Victim shaming is shamful.

Recently two very big stories dealing with abuse have hit the news. First the arrest of Sons of Guns patriarch Will Haden on multiple sex abuse charges including the rape of a minor. Then the video of Ray Rice knocking out his then fiance Janay in a pretty brutal elevator fight.

Both stories have shocked their respective communities and the world. Story after story floods my facebook and twitter. A dear friend works in the domestic violence sector and has had almost non-stop interviews.

The thing that has pissed me off though is the victim blaming bull crap. Why did Stephanie Haden stay quiet all these years? She could have done this or that........ Why did Janay marry him? What was she thinking?

Seriously? !? Many victims go throuh a slew of emotions and have a journey they have to travel. They can feel shame, feel denial, disbelief. They can blame themselves or feel like they deserve it. They don't feel safe sharing or don't feel like they will be heard.

It is not for us to judge. It is not for us to force them to tell their stories or accept help. It is not for us to rail at them for making a choice we think we would make differently when we are not walking their road.

I have no real memory of what happened to me. I had years of nightmares. Of being tiny and faceless men. I have the suspicions of my grandmother.  I have my biological mother's police record from the years that followed and her behavior with me that makes those nightmares and suspicions a whole lot more plausible.  That explains a lot of the weird hangups and frustrating issues that have interfered with my life and relationships that took a whole lot of therapy to face. Sometimes I can talk about it but sometimes I can't.  Sometimes the words or thoughts choke me. They press on my chest, they confuse me, they make me feel weak and inadequate.

So please, when you read a story, or even hear something from someone, please just listen and love them no matter what. No matter the path they are on or the choice they are making.

My thoughts on Robin Williams

I tried to think of a witty title. Some catchy phrase or comforting words to convey my thoughts and pull in readers but honestly every article or blog I've seen has covered the gamut and almost all have just felt off. I feel like so many of the pieces I've read have fit into two categories. They either approach things as a tribute and a "he's free" vibe or they bash him as selfish or cowardly.

To me both are wrong, harmful, and so incredibly dangerous. I've battled with depression my whole life. Before my illness had a name and before I had a support system who supported, believed, and encouraged I attempted suicide. Depression, anxiety, bipolar or any other mood disorder is so much larger than a quick fix. It is often a life long battle. I can't know his thoughts, no one can, but I know debilitating illness. The news of his Parkinsons diagnosis I think sheds more light on his motives. No matter what drove him we must be careful in glorifying or condemning. Instead we have to focus on helping others. On his life. Those are the stories I've liked most.

To me the most important part of this is that he hit a point where he felt so hopeless that he made the ultimate irreversible choice and that we must all make sure that we love those around us so completely that they know that no matter what battle they face they are never judged, never alone, and never forsaken. We must listen. We must love. We must be the light in their darkness.

We must also be willing to talk, to seek help, to count on others when we feel lost. I've been in med changes recently and it has brought back some pretty hard core anxiety attacks. At first I was very resistant to even talk about them. I hate adding more issues for the people I love to see. And that just made them worse. I had to count on the people I love, even at 3 AM.

Be a light. I hope I am.

National Sibling Day

Today is National Sibling Day. I have been very blessed in that department. I married into a family of 7. My guy is the middle. I was very close friends with the 6th long before he and I met. So when we married I was added to the fold like another sibling. I talk to his sisters more than he does usually.  And his eldest brother is very protective and great at making me feel loved.

I also have 3 adoptive siblings. They've never made me feel less even though I've lived away from everyone for over a decade. I'm included in everything even if I can rarely make it.

I have 1 biological sibling. He is a couple years younger. Long time readers have seen me boast, fret, worry, and agonize at distance. I've vented when we fight. We're in a place where he has pretty much disowned me. And honestly that's okay. He doesn't understand choices I've made and I can see that. He hasn't seen me every day to watch my health fail. He hasn't been to the monthly doc appointments. He hasn't watched my weight plummet and jump for no reason but that my body is rebelling against me. He hasn't held my hand at heart appointments and hematology workups as we analyze all the ways my body keeps refusing to get healthy. He hasn't held me as I cried because I couldn't climb a hill with my kid or swim the length of the pool. Or cuddle in the same position. Or even stand up.

He has seen me maybe 3 times in 5 years. And those 5 years have resulted in a completely different me. And have meant making horrible choices. Choices to give up work I loved because I just couldn't keep up. Choices to end friendships, to isolate myself more as I poured every ounce of energy into my family. And not even into house work but just into the loving of them. The cuddles and emotional stuff they needed. I had to make hard calls on all sorts of things.

And one was that a relationship with my father was just too stressful to keep fighting for. I love my dad. I genuinely believe he loves me and my kids. I believe he wants the best for us. I even believe he has realized how amazing my husband is. We just communicate in incredibly different ways. And while it isn't his intention I'm often left very hurt by our meetings.  I know that, especially with my health so crappy, I just don't have the energy for that. And I am sorry that hurts my brother and my dad. I know it sucks to be the person cut off. Which is why I don't blame my brother. He is angry and frustrated and feeling protective of our dad. That's a wonderful thing. On days like these I miss who we used to be. Healthy and fun and best friends. And I pray for him often even if he doesn't believe in God.  I do. I believe in him. I'm proud of him. I wish him nothing but wonderful things. I truly hope he has a phenomenal life.

Happy National Sibling Day brother.

I'm Christian unless you're an addict, or an Imigrant, or.....

So the title was inspired by a post by Dan Pierce called "I'm Christian unless you're gay." I loved it for it's truth.

I saw a similar issue on Sunday. A couple things happened of note. Philip Seymour Hoffman died of an overdose and the Superbowl was on in all its billion dollar glory.

It was also the anniversary of Chris Kyle's death.

Many on my feed felt that the later should have been all over the news. And I agree. Chris Kyle was a great guy. He was a returned soldier, a father, a husband. He was also more than that. He was a man determined to help others. A man with demons who refused to give in. And that deserves praise and remembrance.

Some took it farther. They bashed a dead actor for being an addict. They bashed the addiction as weakness, as cowardly. Memes were created that demeaned and denigrated.

Then the Superbowl aired. The usual million dollar commercials played. And Coke became the second major target of the day along with the immigrants singing a beautiful American song in their native languages.

I have never seen so much hate spewed in a single day on facebook and twitter. The crule and vile words honestly made me cry. Not for the targets but for us. Because the group spewing the most hate shocked me. We are the primarily Christian center. We are supposed to be the tolerant, the forgiving, the compassionate. We are the ones who carefully research our rebuttles to the anti rights groups. We are the ones horrified when a soldier is treated badly or a family with an autistic child is discriminated against.

Yet on Sunday I watched as addicts were shamed for being weak and stupid. I watched as immigrants trying to show pride were shown racism more expected 50 years ago.

An addict does not choose to be so. No one looks at a pill or syringe and says "That's what I want to do when I grow up." Addiction is a brutal indiscriminate attacker. It goes after anyone, at any time, in any circumstance. And once it has you it never lets you go. A smell, a sound, a taste, a place, a person, a date can trigger you. And then you crave.  If you have already hit your bottom and are fighting to be clean you hit that craving and move on, focusing on whatever helps so you don't drink or use or eat. If you are back in the blur though and you hit a trigger all you do is seek the empty places using brings. The places where you don't crave because you're there, where you don't feel because you're empty.

I know if I were at my bottom still trapped in the blur Sunday would have destroyed my hope. How is an addict to feel safe asking for help if we tell them they are just weak and stupid and deserve death? And what if the addict needing that help is your child, your sibling, your spouse, your parent ? What about the soldier who fought beside you?

Then we heaped on more hate. Telling those who did it right, who worked hard to be here, who are as American as we are, that their pride is worthless because they don't have as many generations born in this melting pot as we do. That sharing their pride in their birth language was dispicable. Yes I agree everyone should learn English. However we should allow an expression of pride in America be however it is chosen. If someone wants to do it in pig-latin and standing on their heads I say we celebrate. Celebrate that they came here honestly to seek an honest often safer and better life and genuinely are proud to be American.

Stop the hate. Stop the degradation. How do we expect to teach the intolerant anything better if we are intolerant? How are we to show our children Christ like values if we ourselves are not Christ like?

I for one refuse to be the Christian living contrary to Christ. I refuse to judge anyone based on their choices if they are living a life trying to be the best they can be. I also refuse to turn my back on those who might need help. To me that is the most exceptional way to honor my faith, my family, and our point of existence.

Epiphany Dreams.

My favorite dreams are the ones that reveal something, that help us grow and learn. I dream a lot. it is actually a bad thing health wise as I don't slide into that deeper healing sleep easily but for my imagination it is a boon. I get many book ideas from my dreams. I get to be the tough badass supermom in my dreams that my body won't allow in reality. And every so often something pops through my dreams that defines the epiphany.

I usually have many dreams a night. If its a great story idea I try to note it down. This mornings final dream was lovely and one worth sharing.

It was Christmas and so beautiful out. I was in the mountains at some type of resort type place. It seemed like hundreds of people where there. So many families. There were trees and snow and a lake that was weirdly not frozen. In my dream we were doing different family things as a larger group and as just my little family. Games, and snow fights, boat rides and sledding. It was beautiful. But I began to notice a problem. Many of the families, and I recognized a lot of friends, of tv families, of celebrities, were not happy. The kids were fighting, the parents were oblivious. As some tried to decorate for the holiday others were miserable. Then one night we were gathered together for some type of pageant or display and I had decided enough was enough. I stood in front of all those people, many who were bickering and I told them to knock it off. I told them that they had forgotten their purpose. That the purpose of life was to parent a child. That it didn't matter how that dynamic looked. It didn't matter how a family was constructed but every adult had a responsibility to be the best they could be with a thought for the next generation in mind. That our job was to teach them a legacy of strength, compassion, honesty, generosity, and survival. We need to teach them skills that matter by showing them what matters.

Then I woke to my 4 year old Monkey yelling from down stairs for some cereal and I had to chuckle. It was funny to go from such peace to such yelling BUT I realized the thoughts were true. Every adult is a parent. It may be in the role of a teacher or a counselor. An aunt or uncle or just a family friend but we all interact with children and the children in our lives look to us to teach them. Yes the main teaching needs to be from their actual parent however we all need to be striving for more for them. They truly are our future. I know the kind of future I want to see and for them to have. Do you?

Not hard to stay sober.... is it?

I was checking out at the grocery store the other day when the man behind me said something I couldn't help but overhear. It took everything I had to restrain myself actually. I was with my girls and he was with his wife and child so just felt the kiddos didn't need to hear the boiling thoughts in my head.

He was looking at the tabloid headlines and saw one I had noticed that said "Lindsey Lohan fighting to stay sober" His comment was, "I just don't get it. It can't be that hard to stay sober. Just stop drinking the alcohol or doing the drugs. Done. Sober."

Seriously? I wish it were that easy. I've been the child of an addict, the addict, and am the wife of a recovering alcoholic. I have seen every side of that issue. I know how it feels to wake up and crave, to eat a certain meal and crave, to stress and crave, to hurt and crave. I walked my path due to my pain. I hurt and no one believed me so I turned to using to cope. I lied to people. I manipulated. I did a lot I am not proud of and all before I was 17.

I wish it were easy. I wish you just made the choice and then poof....done. But people don't become addicts because it is glamorous and fun. They do it because they need the escape for some reason. They don't want to face something. The using is what is easy. It's the fight to stay sober that takes desire, a day to day effort and choice. It takes a lot of support from loved ones and community. 

Being Thankful..... Mostly.

It is November, the season of thanks. SO I have tried every day to post what I am thankful for in my life. And boy do I have so much. I truly am so very blessed. I have a husband who has always without fail been my knight. He fights for me. He keeps me safe. He knew there was more going on with my health than we thought and pushed for answers even when I had allowed past issues to make me wonder if i wasn't just crazy and lazy and broken. I see so many with this disease who are alone because the people around them abandon them and refuse to believe them. I know a few who still have loved ones close but are abused because they are faking it, or lazy, or liars, or manipulators.

I have my kids and that is incredible. Their births were miracles. They grow more beautiful every day in personality, character, and grace. They are supportive of my bad days and great fun on the good.

I have extended family who always backs me up, parents not by blood who choose to love me and be supportive of me. I have some great docs trying to get me healthy, I have a home that is a bit big for me but perfect for hosting visitors. (We have over 30 at Thanksgiving) I have food to cook. I have a vehicle that I adore that lets me go visiting if I want to. I have my imagination that has led to my writing that hopefully leads to some published books. I have a great page with awesome fans that I hope to get back to some fundraising work on.

Life is good. Honestly almost perfect. Except.... The other day my brother made a post on his fb page for the whole world to see. He posted how excited he was to come visit for a whole week at Thanksgiving. First real visit in over 2 years. I think last time he was here Lexi was turning 2. She is now almost 5. So actually almost 3 years. He then said he just wished he could be with our father and I at the same time and asked my thoughts. On his open facebook.

Talk about put on the spot. I tried to be very polite and somewhat vague as I have multiple coworkers on my page. Yet he pressed and pressed. To the point of telling me he hoped it wasn't his or dad's death that brought me around and that I wasn't being fair to him or my kids or my dad.

Now I know my Dad is upset by the fact I asked for space. Complete space. And I realized I want that space because I do not trust him. When I call is it nice accepting dad or ranting dad who belittles and demeans and expects me to ignore that? I don't trust him to handle my children the way I ask.

And my brother knows this. And I wish, just one time, he said "I don't necessarily agree with your choice but I am behind whatever you need to do 100%. I want you to feel good and feel happy in your life. I understand that stress makes you ill and know that sometimes for that moment you have to make choices that might seem harsh. I love you."

Instead I feel pressured and pushed and stressed and like I am the bad guy when it shouldn't be about good or bad and just about me needing time. I have never had a blood relative (other than my kids) say to me "I back you 100%, I accept you. I am proud of you and I think you are beautiful and perfect just the way you are." I may be an adult but there is still a part of me that craves that. I get it from my in laws, from my adoptive family. I get it from friends who have become family. Yet the 2 people in the world I need it from seem unable to give that unconditional love and acceptance.

I know I'm in my own way but I feel stuck.

I've been looking for inspiration in many places these days. Trying to get back to writing. Sometimes just combing through the #writingprompt tag on twitter works to move me. Today the one that jumped was "Write about what is getting in your way."

Honestly I am in my own way. In my writing career, in my life in gerneral. I just have no idea what to do about it. Blaming my dad and the regular self esteem slaps or my fibro is easy and even truth in a way but honestly it comes down to fear. Fear of failing at writing, at being a wife and mom. Fear of the unknown. Fear of pushing my body into another setback. Fear of letting those I love down even more. Fear of my dreams being permanently taken.

It sucks to realize I am held by fear.

For my next 30 years....

Today is my birthday. The big 30. I have had some teasing, some even apologizing as I hit this number. Like 30 is a bad thing. Honestly as I look back over my life I am so very happy to be having this day and the life I have had up to this point. For a long time I was 100% convinced I would die young. My FMS symptoms started in my teens and with so many saying that it was in my head or that I was crazy I was truly convinced that I either was going crazy or something was so wrong but no one could see it because I was meant to die. So I never really expected to hit this birthday. I have had my share of heartache as well. Loosing my babies was probably the worst emotionally followed by the loss of my grandparents and my love's battle with his own issues. Those things though helped shape the beauty that is my life. They helped form the bounty that is my marriage. Many think I make up our relationship but today when I opened my birthday card J.W. had written, "It feels like yesterday you were 17 and I had just fallen in love with you. I know many years have passed but I promise to make each day feel like it was only yesterday." Yeah that is my guy. All day Maggy has been texting me "Happy Birthday" over and over so I know how excited she is that it is my birthday. My email has been beeping like crazy with messages and my facebook even has some sweet words. It is humbling and amazing to feel so much love from so many. I see all of that love and can't help but be excited to turn 30 and eager for the future. I don't know what it holds. I know there will be heartbreak, there always is in life. I also know that there will be joy and love and passion. Thank you guys for being a part of that even if I have been a bit absent lately!

There are days when a miracle happens....

and you are reminded that every moment is a blessing.

My sister was the driver of this car this past Sunday. She was on a very rural stretch of 2 lane road when a brilliant person decided to cross into her lane to pass 3 semi trucks. She had no choice but to swerve off the road to avoid a collision. Her tires hit gravel and she lost control. She swerved back onto the road right into the path of one of the semi trucks. After the initial head on impact she was spun and hit from behind. The people on scene say that at this point her car should have been pulled under the semi but miraculously she was slammed forward and walked away from the image above with no injuries. This impact happened at 70 mph. Every single responder was stunned to see her breathing out of the car let alone without injury. She hit so hard she bent the drive line on the semi.

All I first knew of this was a phone notification that my brother had updated his facebook. "My little sister was in a head on ......"

I froze. After the fear from 2 weeks ago and the tunnel instability I went right to panic mode. I was just instantly terrified. It took a moment before my husband could calm me enough to get me to call my mom. The moments until she answered seemed to take forever. To hear those words, "She's okay," took my breath away in relief. Then I saw the pictures. How was she okay? I have lost multiple friends to similar crashes. To see the damage and know she was okay just brought home to me how deeply miraculous life can truly be.

Scary dreams.

Something I have learned from my marriage is that the good relationships mean the love is big, the worry is big, the joy is big. All of it is deeper and stronger because you have fought for it and continue to do so. You are such a team that you can share a deeper bond than most expect. Hubby and I are like that. We are blessed. We fought to get here. In march we will hit 11 years when the majority of people who knew us didn't think we would last a year. We married yound but we grew together.

The hard part of our bond is the worry. I worry so much for him sometimes. He just started a very dangerous stage of his current project. This job already is high on the danger level due to the scope of the job, and the fact that the ground he is tunneling through has already offered up enough unstable surprises to put them so far behind schedule. Now we are in a very tense stage. I know he is amazingly capable. I honestly think he can almost speak to these machines. He can run within his safety zones and still beat the other shifts in distance tunneled when they push the machine into the danger zone. He knows what to feel for and see. It is amazing. BUT not everyone around him is as capable and so I worry. With the worry comes the dreams. I am prone to dream often. My FMS means I usually hit the dream stage and get stuck. I have a hard time getting deeper sleep. So I am prone to nightmares when stressed. Now my nightmares are focused on him and it sucks. It has put a damper on the last couple days and has made it hard for me to get back to the book. So I figured if I wrote out the worry that might help.

He is my best friend and my partner in every sense of the word. There is no one I trust more. I am not sure how I would raise these girls if something happened to him. There is no rescue if the tunnel goes. Even recovery would be doubtful. That terrifies me. So I will dream my dreams and continue to put my faith in him and his skill. Of course my extra prayers can't hurt right?

Happy Thanksgiving!

From our family to yours we hope you have a joyful and blessed holiday. May your plate be full and your cup run over. May you overdose on turkey and gravy. May you remember that you are not alone and are very appreciated. Thank you for being you!

The OTHER reason October is important to me.

October 15 is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. Many who read the blog know my story. If you are new though I will share my thoughts again.

I have been blessed with 4 babies! They light my life. They are my world. 2 of them I lost during pregnancy. As my health journey has progressed I have learned that often FMS women have difficulty in pregnancy and that my lack of progesterone is not to surprising once you know I have FMS. Yay! I look around me and know so many women who have lost babies. I know their heart break, their fear as they try again. I know the anguish. Last year Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope started the I Am The Face campaign to help raise awareness and remove the silence surrounding pregnancy and infant loss. I eagerly joined that movement. I love Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope. They provide support online and locally to so many who are now facing loss. I also very much want the world to talk to those of us who deal with this. We want to remember our babies. We want to smile about them and cry about them and be free to talk about them and the pregnancy. There were good moments for all of us. So please spread the hope and the word. 1 out of 4 women will face this huge loss. They need our love and our kindness. They need our hugs. They need to be able to talk about it without being hidden away.

Under attack? Maybe a little but that's okay!

I have realized recently that when I feel upset by things in life my mind instantly goes to the beauty of my marriage. It is as if my coping mechanism when I feel threatened in any way is for my brain to say "Lila yes this person is a total jerk but remember the most important truth in your life. The one person you need to love and accept you unconditionally already does that. Who cares what the jerk thinks." I find that to be pretty amazing. The life that we have is far from what many would define as perfect but for me it is exactly that. We aren't rich, we aren't going to be. (Though I am going to make a best sellers list darn it!) We don't have all the newest or best toys. I don't care. Bash my politics. Bash my religion. Bash even the very concept of faith. Bash my parenting. Bash my looks. Bash away jerks. My husband finds me sexy. My girls are happy, smart, and well rounded. My passion is fed through writing. I am in need of nothing else. I have a strength no one can take from me because I am loved beyond measure.

Do you have something that makes all the crap fade away? What is it?

My greatest wish for all of my blog friends is that they have that one thing. It can be any thing. I am lucky that mine comes in the arms of a good strong man but a mate isn't a requirement. I wish you all joy. So much joy. Passion and health and happiness. So often as we walk this path of preparation and safety through our beautiful weapons we are immersed in sludge and negativity. I am working to make a huge effort to avoid that sludge. It was depressing me. Extended family stress was pulling me down. Jerks were demeaning me. Not going to let it build like it had been. Time to find the good. Find your good and tell me about it!

Books on my shelf?

The book theme is all over today. Brigid, Murphy's Law, and North have all done it! I decided to follow suit. I kind of have to being the book girl. Granted my collection is not as wide ranging or as vast as some listed. I am a fiction junkie. I am also 29 and prone to moving regularly so I have to purge books a bit regularly. It makes me sad. At our last move i cried over the boxes of books I donated. *sniff sniff* I digress, my current collection has a lot of Louis L'amour. Husband is a fan but I sneak them when he isn't looking. I also love Clive Cussler and Dan Brown. The Adventure type action books. Faye and Jonathan Kellerman are great. I love paranormals so I have Laurell K Hamilton, Kim Harrison, Kelley Armstrong to name a few. Romance is also a love of course so Nora Roberts, Johanna Lindsey, Stephanie Laurens, Catherine Coulter both romance and FBI, Julie Garwood. I have a ton of favorite writers and know I am missing a bunch of them but honestly I have so many I am just listing what pops into my head. When we moved in here I had 12 boxes full. Hubby actually drove my books down himself rather than have the movers take them simply because of the weight. I have added quite a bit since then though now I have my Nook Color ereader and I try to put books on it rather than buying the bound versions in an effort to save space, hehehe. Poor husband wants to throttle me. My book cases are stacked to the gills 3 rows deep and up. Makes for heavy book cases! ;)

I am looking to now expand my collection into books we will need in a SHTF scenario. Medical info, food, living off grid, guns, things like that. If you guys know of good refrence books that I should have in a hardcopy form for a TEOTWAWKI life I would be very appreciative!

Texas Fires

I spent a lot of my growing years in Texas. Summers and holidays were spent with my grandparents on their  large spread outside of Bastrop. Right now the area is burning. So far it seems the family and other people I love have been lucky. Fire has come close and is licking at the boot heels but hasn't burned anything of ours yet but some reports say that half of Bastrop is gone and that it is going to get worse before it gets better. With Katia steaming up the gulf winds could pick up and the largest fire is at 0%  containment. So please everyone pray. Pray for those hundreds of families who have lost their homes, pray for those evacuated, pray for those at risk, and I selfishly ask for an extra little prayer for my family. While my grandparents are no longer alive to see a city they loved and raised their sons in burn we do still have family there and they are at risk and need that love.

Thanks guys!

Mind numbing fear and the blessings that come with it.

Lately a few of our fellow bloggers and real life friends have been having health fun. Health issues are never fun or easy. Some talk about it and some don't. Both ways are fine. Watching people i care about struggle has brought up some memories and so I thought to share some feelings as a show of support and a reminder than even when it feels overwhelming you are never alone in your fear.

When we first moved here my amazing guy decided it was time to push me to really figure out my health. I was tired all the time, bruises took days or even weeks to heal, I looked just plain sickly sometimes even though my weight stayed the same and higher than I would like even though I ate little. Nevada is a specialist state. The rate of lawsuits here are so high that your primary doc handles little stuff and passes you on for big stuff so she sent me to a hematologist. He discovered something odd. While my white blood cells are in the normal to sometimes low count range the percentage of them that are lymphocyte cells are very elevated. He tested again and again and always got the same results. Elevated lymphocytes. Well this can be a fluke or it can be a big deal. Two big deal options were cancer. One would kill me very fast and one may never kill me at all. So while we waited for some very extensive testing results and time between tests to check for accuracy I felt like my life was in this horrible holding pattern. 6 weeks of wondering about my life, my future, my children and their future. I have never been so freaking scared. I rarely slept. Every bruise was a new reason to worry. Every time I had a migraine I was terrified. I researched until I was blue in the face.

Then the results came back. Not cancer but no clue why you have the abnormality. My bruising was chalked up to being so fair. So it was on to more tests, this time to the endocrinologist. I was tested for everything he could think of. More waiting and worrying. Luckily most of his tests wouldn't result in a fatal diagnosis.

Once again I was healthy. I was the healthiest sick person they had ever seen. Sure my blood had weird oddities but nothing that pointed to a specific diagnosis. Then came the rheumatologist. The guy was a complete jerk but was sure it was FMS. And so I had an answer.

Of course sometimes answers don't feel like comfort. The answers can be scary and life altering. They can feel like an awful weight pressing down on our world and forever changing things. I tend to be grateful for answers even when they suck because I would rather know what battle to wage than stand on that bleak precipice and hope I jump the right direction to flee the demons chasing me. It truly is in how you look at it.

So if you are facing challenges please remember that you are not alone, you are loved, and the worst result you can ever get is "Inconclusive". Test on. Push on, fight on. Get your answers and know that whatever the outcome you won't face it alone.

Why my mom is my mom.

The woman who gave birth to me did only two things that I can thank her for. She gave birth to me and she gave birth to my brother. Otherwise her drugs were more important to her and still are. She was out of my life when I was 5 and I did not see her again until my father flew her in for my wedding. She hardly spoke and did not add to it at all. I thought seeing her would be this amazing reunion. I was the little girl who dreamed of a mother who adored me but just couldn't be there. I learned that day who my mother was. It was not the woman who gave birth to me and ignored me for years. Instead my MOTHER was the woman who lovingly handmade my wedding dress out of my old prom dress because I could not afford anything else and my dad wasn't to keen to help either. (He later did help.) She went to all the appointments to pick flowers and food and she altered the bridesmaid dresses that needed it. She helped me get ready while the woman who carried me in her womb hid in a hotel nearby. When my first child was born she drove 2 hours to be there to help coach me through labor and keep my hubby from passing out as he watched me in pain. When my second was born she flew 2 states away just to be backup in case hubby couldn't handle the surgery and to help me through that first day. She loves my children more than anything. She treats me like she does the children she birthed. The true miracle of this is that she and my dad divorced not long after my marriage. She had no reason to keep me in her life. Every other woman my dad brought into our lives left when the relationship ended. She stayed. She is my Mom in ever single sense of the word and I am so amazingly grateful for her and for that. On days when it feel like no one is on my side but my husband I know she has my back. She calls just to check on me or say hi. My dad doesn't even do that. It is pretty amazing to feel like I finally have a mom. (I also got 2 pretty awesome sisters out of the deal and a brother who is pretty great too!!)

Random Acts Of Kindness!

Friday was a busy day for us. We were due in Utah for a family reunion of sorts. For the first time in years the majority of my husbands siblings were all getting together with their families in one place so it was all about packing and driving and going, going, going....... It also was a day about random acts of kindness. A dear friend was celebrating the first birthday of her child. Her sweet girl was born still and to honor her she and everyone that loved her were going to do some random acts that day. Having had my own losses this hit me hugely. My losses had been early and while I grieve them still in moments of reflection I have never really done something purely to honor those lost lives so I took up the call not only to honor my friend and her precious one but to honor mine and all the lost ones. It kind of became almost obsessive. I think my poor brother-in-law had no idea what to do with me. All day as we went about prepping and packing I would ask to stop here or go there as an idea popped into my head for my RAOK. He just kept going. I think he ignored me as a safety because he thought I had lost my mind. I think he also did it because the one I was supposed to help hadn't come around yet. By evening I was getting frustrated. My sunny disposition was taking on a little bit of an edge as I became more insistent that he help me fulfill my pledge. Then we stopped to fuel up. I decided as we were pulling in that my RAOK would be to fill up the gas tank of someone. I looked around. I saw a minivan pull in and perked up until they pulled to a stop and the door flew open and I saw a woman holding her infant in her arms with not seat in sight. Couldn't bring myself to want to help there when that lack of safety for such a sweet life made me mad. Then I turned around and in pulled an Explorer. Seated inside was a cute young Hispanic couple and in the back seat were twin infant carseats. He pulled out $40 which I knew would never fill that tank since I drive and SUV and I knew they were exactly who I needed to help. So I asked if I could buy his gas. I know he thought I was crazy but he said okay. As we approached $20 he stopped the pump and tried to give me his cash. I restarted it and told him no. As we hit $40 he did it again and I repeated my step. I explained that it was important to me. I needed to do this for him. NEEDED. I filled his tank to the brim and told him to take his family out for Valentine's Day. I am sure he thought I was a crazy person but I felt so uplifted and full to bursting with love. Love for my friend and her angel. Love for my little lost ones. Love for life. I also felt so amazingly thankful for my blessings. It reminded me how much I enjoy doing things for others and how truly joyous it makes me feel to see the wonder on someones face when a stranger is kind to them. So make today your day to do a random act of kindness. It can be big or small but trust me it will leave you feeling so amazingly proud!

NO child is disposable.

In the news every day we here of a missing child, or a dead child, or an abandoned child. Our society is flooded with foster kids. It is common place for a grandparent, an uncle, a friend, or even a co-worker to be raising a child not their own. My question is when did children become so disposable? Oh, your child was born with a handicap? Pass him off to someone else. Your teenager 'to much to handle'? Foster care will take her. It makes my blood boil. When you CHOOSE to raise a child you make that child a promise by that very act. You promise unconditional love. You promise to be a support and a comfort NO MATTER WHAT. I don't care if money is tight because of your child's needs. I don't care if she needs more medical assistance than you like. I don't care if he is skipping school and fighting. I DON'T CARE!! Suck it up and take care of your child. Children are rarely easy. They have ups and downs, they have needs and wants and dreams that we as parents are obligated to fill because we promised. I know that there are problems and hardships in raising a child. I know that as individuals one child's struggle can be much harder than another. That's humanity people. Fight for your children, not with them. Give reasonable boundaries. Stop what you are doing for one moment and hold your child close no matter how old they are. Tell them you love them and show them. Make each moment be a chance to let them know that no matter what they can count on you.