2017 Ear Surgery

As someone who has had a good deal of physical sickness in my life the Lord blesses me each time. 

 

This past year I struggled with frequent headaches and vertigo that was almost unbearable some days.  I was also keenly aware that I was not hearing so well.  My hearing has never been great – but I had noticed a huge difference in not hearing normally.  My biggest struggle was in a “loud” place.  All other sensors would go into overload due to the excessive noise that I couldn’t decipher through.  In crowds the million conversations made me not able to hear what the person in front of me was saying.  In a setting where drums were played the literal hair on the back of my neck would cause a horrible headache due to my eardrum vibrating but not being able to hear the sound.

 

The ENT doctor, as awesome and wonderful as they are, are my least favorite doctor.  I’d rather get my teeth cleaned and visit my OBGYN before the ENT any day of the year!  They take long skinny metal rods and put them in the ear.  They use said rods to poke around inside of the ear and remove debris.  They also have vacuums.  They are loud and extremely scary – especially when they vacuum the physical eardrum.  They also have picks.  Yes, the kind that is required to scrape the inside of something – it just makes one cringe at the thought.  It’s also true that ENT doctors have amazingly steady hands. 

 

Dr. Gannon at Dothan ENT has great bedside manner.  At my first appointment he did a little “looking and poking around”.  He noted that my eardrum didn’t look great and was retracted.  He began to prepare me for the possibility of “Menier’s Disease”.  He gave me some drops to use and sent me home.  I would return 2 weeks later for a hearing test and to look better at the drum.  At this appointment it was noted that I had lost 10 decibels of hearing in both ears in a matter of 8 years…not a good report at all. 

 

I was extremely distraught over the news.  To not hear in the near future overwhelmed me.  There is something about hearing your children laugh and express their feelings verbally.  The thought of that literally shook me.  And so, I began praying that God would restore my hearing.  I was referred that day to Dr. Rogers in Birmingham.

 

The next week I met with Dr. Rogers.  He, like Dr. Gannon, took out all the above referenced tools and began, in  his words, “looking and poking around”.  During these “looking and poking around” sessions, I’m usually death gripped on the arm of the chair with my eyes clinched shut.  With each breath I am reminded by the doctor to “breathe” and that “I’m not pulling your eardrum out, it just feels like that”.  Poor Luke, I had the death grip on his hand also – and as big as  his hands are, I am always somehow able to squeeze them hard enough he compliments my grip. HA!

 

At that appointment an MRI was scheduled.  The MRI showed 2 huge issues.  Dr. Rogers walked back in and wouldn’t sit – with his tall thin frame he leaned against wall.  “Well, Rachel, we have an issue…a rather serious issue” and with that he told me the following.  #1 – there was a large infection in my skull, specifically in the mastoid bone.  #2 – there was a cytoma that appeared to be covering the prosthesis ear bone that was put in 8 years earlier.  You need surgery as soon as we can get you on the schedule.  He explained that part of the reason I struggled with energy and not feeling well was simply because I had a sick head.  HAHAHAHA!

 

Of course, we had this long talk about “not overdoing it” and “staying out of the gym” and “resting as much as possible”.  Some doctors crack me up – they start those conversations much like this… “So, tell me, are you as active as you look?  I see you have in shape shoulders and you look like you work out.”  I typically respond, “is there any other way to be?  Of course I’m very active.”  I would be lying if I said it wasn’t a blow to the spirit when you are told you have to stop doing that in order to heal.  But, like I tell my clients often – eating well will keep you looking great because what you look like is 70% what you eat and 30% what you do – so that self-pep-talk went on for 6 weeks!

 

Surgery was set for March 10^th and recovery would be up to 5 weeks.  With that Luke and I drove to Birmingham where we spent the night before my surgery.  I had to be at the surgery center by 5:00 am.  Hello my usual 4:15am wake up call.  It was a cool morning and my nerves were in check.

 

Upon check-in I was called back to get weighed and vitals registered.  I weighed in at 64.4 kilograms.  I’ve never understood why Americans want to use pounds in lieu of kilograms…64.4 sounds wayyyyy better than 142.0 pounds!  Anyway, my heart rate was excellent and my blood pressure was “amazing”.  Healthy as a horse and the nurses and doctors complimented it.

 

As they read the name of procedure, I asked if they would write it for me.  The name of my procedure is right here.  Yeah, exactly!

 

 

Luke was so loving and supportive of me.  He held my hand the entire way.  They told us that this type of surgery would cause a good bit of sickness after surgery but they would give me as much anti-nausea medicine as they could.  He loved on me and hugged me, prayed with me and for me and watched them wheel me away.

 

My next memory was laying there with my eyes closed hearing the nurse say, “Rachel, open your eyes and smile for me.”  I could not for the life of me understand why she wanted me to smile for her – everything inside of my body was spinning and so heavy.  Of course I was non-responsive because at that moment the request was not more important that sleeping some more.  At one point I can hear voices and noises…my eyes however would not open.  I heard Luke, “baby, just smile, we need to see you smile.”  Of course, I’d do anything for that man – so I smiled.  With that the words of the nurse, “great her face is symmetrical.”    Ummmm…yeah, duh!  I didn’t realize until after surgery but the ear bone replacement and the cytoma was removed from around my facial nerves – and these nerves don’t typically get repaired if they are damaged in surgery.  Told you the doctors have delicate hands.

 

 

 

 

Dr. Rogers explained that the surgery was more intense than he originally thought.  He was 2 mm from my brain scraping infection (pseudomonas) and removing cysts.  He put in a new prosthetic ear bone, scraped infection, removed the cyst, built a new ear drum and packed the ear.  He said once I recovered I should feel 100% better!!

 

That same night my son would attend his senior prom.  Part of me was incredibly sad I couldn't be there to take pictures and help him get ready.  The other part of me was excited that he decided (last minute) to even go.  I received pictures from him throughout the night that made me cry and smile all at once.  Time be still.

 

 On this same night, our daughter Haley hit her very first out of the park home run!  Her whole life she has worked hard on getting that accomplishment and this night was the night it happened.

 

 

Recovery was very hard – I spent the first 6 days in the bed.  Every single thing spun constantly.  Luke would help me walk and sit up.  The ear, specifically the inner ear, is connected to every limb on the body.  I would have to hold my head to even sit up.  Turning my head was a chore.  Picking up anything heavy that pulls on the delts would kill my ear.    Luke came down with the flu that Wednesday and he was just as miserable as I was.  By day 12 post surgery, things were finally on the up!  I was feeling better and ready to get back into my full schedule – of course with no gym time. 

By day 10, depression was setting in due to my inability to just have energy and get going.  My wonderful love woke me up early and took me to the beach.  There is just something healing there.  With toes in the sand, the sun in the sky, my hand in his and riding shotgun - my body was finally starting to feel better.

 

 

 

 I am currently hearing so much better and will have another recheck in a few weeks. 



Reconnected and Love Ignited

New life began.  A new husband.  New children.  A family of three was now a family of six.  Life was busy from the moment we hit the ground running.  I dated this man for a little over a year and we married.  Life was challenging learning to balance pre-teen children and an entire house, especially at 21 years old.  We settled into a new home and kept busy schedules with school activities, church activities and sports. 

Within 2 years life began to change quickly.  The announcement came that the shuttle program would be down-sized and many jobs would be lost.  We decided to move to Alabama and get a fresh start.  The plan was to help with a family owned business and all of the kids to be in a small town school.  The move was seamless and rather easy.  We soon built a home and life in Alabama was full swing ahead.  Helping with the family business was short-lived.  Life went from busy to a much slower pace.  In many ways it was nice.  We knew every kid in the school – the teachers were all on a first named basis and a house was built for each of our needs.  The house we built was constructed on land that belonged to my family – my grandparents homesteaded there decades before so it was extra special. 

Getting the kids into school was rather easy.  The decision was made to ask Luke to sign over all of his rights so that we could enroll Haley with the same name as her new older sisters.  The adoption was easy and seemed to be the right move at the time.  Haley would not be asked why her name was different or who her dad is.  As I begin sharing this part of the journey I weep.  God is a good and gracious God.  He gave us what we thought we needed and we were so grateful. 

Haley has always been a momma’s girl.  She clung to me like a leach from day one.  Only mommy could hold her and fix her boo-boo’s and tummy aches.  Only mommy could tuck her in.  Only mommy could brush her hair, wash her face and make her plate.  She literally clung to me in every way.  I loved it – she was such a loving child towards me.  She sang and danced all the time with me.  She would lay down with me and tell me how much she loved me.  Precious memories – how they linger.  She also connected with her older step-sisters.  She loved them and appreciated their need to “mother her”. 

As Haley grew she would say the funniest things.  Her blue eyes would become lighter as she aged.  Her hair stayed dirty blonde.  Her smile would fill any room.  Her athletic ability was out of this world.  Her need to always be talking made me shake my head often.  Her personality was nothing like anyone else in the house.  Every single day, in those small things, I saw Luke.  Deep down his memory went from hard to soft.  In her was love and that love was pure and perfect. 

We talked about her dad Luke.  It was no secret to her that she was adopted – she was 5 years old when it took place.  When she would do something that reminded me of him, I would tell her.  We would sit down and talk about “when mommy was pregnant with her and married to her dad Luke”.  She loved doing that.  One day when she was about 7 years old, my then husband and I sat her down and opened a box of her baby things.  In that box was her adoption paperwork.  We told her to ask us questions and she did.

Haley: “What does he look like?”

Me: “Well, he looks like you”
Haley: “He looks like a girl?”
Me: laughing “no, but you look like him.”
Haley: “Can I talk to him?”
Me: “One day, yes you can”
Haley: “Ok” And off to play she went.

Truthfully, those words hurt.  They stung like venom.  I wasn’t sure how to answer that.  She was still so little and it was obvious her love for him was pure – there was no hesitation in asking questions nor was there doubt that he loved her.  God had really moved on me that day.

Each time I would tell her “girl you are too much”, she would reply “do I get that from my real dad, Luke?” With a smile I’d say “Yes, baby girl you do.” And she always was satisfied with that.  It was if her imagination of him was whole and love filled.  As I poured those words into her, I watched her become completely comfortable with herself.  I never denied the love he had for her or she had for him.

Around the age of 10 she put in again to meet her dad.  I gave her some generic answer of “I’ll see what your (adopted) dad says and maybe soon you can.”  He and I talked about it and agreed that it wasn’t time for them to meet.  It would create a whirlwind of emotions and complications for everyone and the timing didn’t feel right.  I began praying for God to give me peace and to guide my thoughts in this entire situation.

Later, I sat down alone and opened up social media and found Luke.  He was now married and had a little boy.  This was one of those stinging moments – Luke had a son – a baby boy that would carry the legacy of the Day family.  His name was Hunter Riley – after all of these years, he kept the original name had Haley been a boy.  I would be lying if I said that didn’t hurt.  I stared at the screen for what seemed like hours.  Thoughts raced through my mind of that day in 2000 when our life abruptly ended.  I didn’t feel malice or hate – I only felt pain and yet contentment.

Nonetheless, right there on the computer screen we both were living very different lives.  He appeared to no longer be in the military.  His look was different – lots of facial hair – pink hair – long hair – short hair – no smile.  It seemed he was a professional or semi-professional fighter.  His son looked so much like Haley I would cry looking at him.  He still had that free spirit about him – that same spirit that was in Haley.  That spirit that drew me even though I denied it.

The internal struggle was real.  I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs to get Luke to see Haley.  I wanted to watch Haley find that missing piece she didn’t even know was missing.  For a while I would look online at least once a week just to see if a new picture had been uploaded.  I wanted to print a picture of him to put in Haley’s room but never did.  Some nights I couldn’t sleep thinking about their reunion. 

At the age of 13 Haley asked again about meeting Luke.  (You can read this whole story HERE)

Before the end of her freshman year, at the age of 15, contact was made with Luke – and he reached out to me through my step-daughter and now friend.  The day was May 9, 2016.

The first words exchanged between us in 16 years read, “Once upon a time in a land far, far away in Cocoa Florida you met a handsome charismatic guy…guess who?”

My.  Heart.  Sank.  My pulse raced.  My eyes watered.  My thoughts went into a million directions.  This text proved that I had not failed Haley in knowing her real daddy – the one who gave her that hilarious charisma, charm and love of life.

That first day our text message exchanges were long and full of information about Haley.  I could not stop smiling.  He could not stop texting.  As scared as I was to actually have to share her with him was overcome with emotion of peace and excitement. 

He shared with me the void he had – I shared with him the love she had.  He shared with me the nervousness he felt – I shared with him the excitement that awaited him.  He shared his disappointment in leaving – I shared the satisfaction of a child’s innocent and untainted love.  He shared the fear of her rejection – I shared the acceptance that awaited him.  Some of his words stung my heart.  We talked war and regrets.  We talked what ifs and what not’s.  We talked here and now.  Deep in my mind I wanted to ask him questions about leaving but Haley's needs trumps that.

After 2 days of texting I asked if he would call me.  He put it off and said texting was better for him.  One night at midnight I still wasn’t asleep.  During this season of my life I worked on average 60 hours a week – exhaustion came easy for me and each night sleep was my favorite thing.  On this particular night I was unable to sleep because Luke said he couldn’t wait until school was out to come and meet Haley he wanted to meet her as soon as possible.  My eyes would not shut that night.  I had been face down on the floor singing and praying to God.  I needed emotional strength.  His return was fast approaching and I was ready but doubted myself.  My recent divorce had left an emotional strain on me – I was dealing with a toxic relationship and was physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted.  Fear crept in for a moment so I went directly to the source.

Here is where I poured my heart out once again – “God, I’ve prayed for this door opening for a long time.  All these years I’ve waited for this opportunity.  It is upon us and now I’m fearful.  I don’t want to confuse my little girl – I don’t want to expose her to anything you don’t have for her.  You know the struggle of our last 10 years.  I trust that as this door opens it swings in the direction of Your will.” And with that I began to sing… “You're a Good, Good Father.  It's who you are, it's who you are, it's who you are and I'm loved by you. It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am. Oh, and I've seen many searching for answers far and wide But I know we're all searching For answers only you provide 'Cause you know just what we need Before we say a word You're a Good, Good Father!”  I sang this over and over – I don’t remember how many times but finally the tears stopped and I stood up and got in the bed.  As I laid my head down, the phone rang.

With my heart racing a thousand beats a minute I looked at the screen and “Lucas” name was on my phone.  This was the first time I was going to hear is voice in 16 years. Truthfully, I was scared to answer and all I kept thinking was “God is answering your prayer Rachel, just answer.”  I said “hello” – or at least I think I did.  My heart was beating so hard I couldn’t hear myself breathe.  As he spoke I was in disbelief.  He didn’t sound like I had remembered – maybe I dreamed of how he sounded and changed it over time so that the pain of losing him would be easier – whatever it was the sound of his voice was different and he was not from south Alabama.  As I sat quietly and listened to him ramble for the first little while, I had no tears.  I laughed and smiled until my face hurt.  He almost spoke faster than my mind could comprehend.  For 2 hours we talked, shared and laughed.  He told me that he was ready to come and meet Haley and see me again after all these years.  When those words came out of his mouth deep down I thought "he really wants to see me too?" 

That night he asked me something that made my mind race, “Rachel, what are your expectations?”  As I shared that I was only worried for Haley and wanted assurance that his presence would be what she needed and to fill a void in her life, I had no other expectations.  What I also wanted to say was "have you missed me?  Can we talk about what happened 16 years ago?  What are your expectations?"  But I didn't, I just spoke of Haley and the reality was, she was the only thing that mattered.  As I shared that Haley was the priority he got quiet.  I could feel emotion running through his voice, “Rachel, I have loved Haley from the moment I found out about her.  I’ve let her down more than any one man could and I live with that regret every day.  Do you think I could live up to her expectations?”  My heart hurt for him.  For the first time I realized that Luke was the gentle and loving giant I remembered.  The choices and decisions that were made years ago haunted him as it did me.  I ached as I heard him share his heart.  He felt unworthy to even be coming but the thought of healing drove him.  He was unsure how to even handle or process what was to come.  He feared her rejection.  He feared disappointing her and then said, “Rachel, I’m afraid of disappointing you too.”  At that moment, tears streamed down my face.  Disappointing me was something I also feared.  He shared that for 16 years he had been missing something – and for the first time in those 16 years he felt life and hope and was afraid that he couldn’t handle it.  He shared that he was in a place of being withdrawn because he never really knew happiness.  I reassured him that even though he was scared it would be ok - that as soon as he met Haley he would know immediate happiness.  She was after all the happiest child in the world - it melted off of her.  Haley needed him more than he even realized, and as her mother, I needed his presence and help also.

Every single day that week we texted.  We talked on the phone almost every night until Friday.  I woke up early that Friday morning.  Today was the day of reuniting.  Again, Haley’s story is (HERE).  But for me, every emotion that I had was in check – at least I had thought it was.  I would not allow myself to get in my personal feelings.  I would keep everything in me in perfect check - if we were talk about anything other than Haley the conversation would be redirected....yet deep down, I wanted to know and talk about "us".  I left work early that day.  As thoughts raced I kept thinking and reminding myself this was going to be everything Haley wanted – but that feeling of love for Luke crept to the surface and I would talk it down because I had surrendered to the thought of "that love was a teenage love and it wasn't real - that's why it didn't work."  It at least helped me get through the day.

He texted me that morning and asked for my address.  As I typed it in, he texted me back “ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” Me, “Yes.”.  See when we met in 1999, we met at King Street Baptist Church.  This day, May 9, 2016, we would meet again on King Street, which is the street I live on.  I knew the smile on his face matched mine.  Divine appointment!

The moment had arrived.  Luke called and said he was almost there.  I had been pacing the house for over an hour.  I sat in the front room waiting for the car to pull up. What would I say first?  Do I walk outside and meet him?  Do I make him ring the doorbell?  Words?  Smile? Before I could make a definite plan, he pulled up, he got out and he began to walk up.  In his flip-flops, shorts and shirt I watched him walk halfway up the walkway before I walked to the door to open it.  His pace was slow – all I could feel and hear was my heartbeat.  His eyes met mine and we both smiled.  It was awkward.  He came up the steps and into the house.  As he walked into the foyer, he said “I guess a hug would be appropriate” and for what seemed like a lifetime we hugged. 

I remember thinking that I fit perfectly in his arms.  That his heart beat was loud and his hands were warm.  I remember he smelled so good and his words were soft “gosh Rachel, thank you.”  For the next few seconds (maybe minutes) we didn’t exchange any more words – only allowed the hug to speak for us.  Feelings rushed over me like dam breaking in the middle of the night with no where to run.  This was drowning yet not suffocating.  He broke the silence by referencing “King Street” and we walked into the living room and sat down.

For the next few minutes our words were scattered.  Conversation wasn’t hard but it wasn’t easy.  He shared.  I shared.  He asked questions and I answered.  I asked questions and he answered.  I remember not being able to stare at him for long periods of time.  I didn't want him to know my personal thoughts.  He would talk about life and I would listen with my heart and ears but not look at him.  To me the eyes are the ticket-booth to the soul and that's exactly where his imprints were.  I can remember feeling him stare at me – and at one point he said “Haley sure gets her beauty from you.”  Those words melted me.  The stories he told of being hard and distant from people were hard to believe listening to him talk there in the living room.  Whatever I was feeling was something I had no intentions of dealing with – we were at different places in our life and I wasn’t going to go down a romantic road. 

The weekend was fun and happy.  Ballgames and trips to the store for new supplies.  Laughter and jokes.  New smiles and deep love from a father to a daughter is all we shared that weekend.  We all stayed up late talking – we all woke up early to talk some more.  Sleep wasn’t easy for those few days.  Haley wanted her dad to take her to school Monday morning and as I left for work that day I can remember feeling some sadness that this first encounter was almost over and life would resume.

We talked about him returning soon.  However, it was very quickly he returned.  Actually, the following weekend.  He said he couldn’t wait for very long – he wanted to come back and stay a while.  He felt like he had found a place in life he was supposed to be.  His visits and time with us was great.  He and Haley were amazing together – life was about her and him catching up.  Haley met Hunter and instant love was there.

Upon one of his returns he and I began to talk more deeply.  He would stand close enough to me that our shoulders would touch.  He would hug me for what appeared to be no reason - I wouldn't fight it.  Ballgames were fun and his gentleman ways of holding doors, helping make dinner and tidying up the house while I was at work was refreshing.  We talked about what happened 16 years ago and how it affected us and the life paths we chose.  In his eyes was self disgust and hatred.  In my eyes he saw compassion and understanding.  He truly loved us and with each passing day he showed us that.  He raved at how wonderful both the kids were – teenagers and so respectful and loving.  How I worked all the time but the kids didn’t seem to be missing a thing.  He actually made me feel accomplished and proud.  It wasn’t long before the conversation of his and my feelings finally came up.

This was by far the hardest part for me and I truthfully think for him also.  I was so scared to even allow myself to feel anything other than the love a mom has for a child’s father.  But the reality was, I felt so much more than that.  The words to explain those feelings are still hard to put into words.  Each time we talked my heart fluttered - my face hurt - my eyes didn't want to close.  I remember sitting on the couch and he came and sat beside me – he looked at me and laid his head in my lap without saying a word.  We stared at each other while time stood still – I stroked his soft thick beautiful dirty blonde hair while looking into his crystal blue eyes.  My touch was soft and my heartbeat was easy.  My hands didn’t tremble nor did my eyes look away.  His hands folded across his chest and a smile on his face.  His eyes said everything I wanted to hear without either of us uttering a word.  I felt in some ways he wanted to see my response at his gesture.  The truth was I wanted him to stay there in that moment.  I wanted to say "I love you Lucas"!!  After a while he sat up and grabbed my hand to hold it.  His hands were warm and big – I looked down at our hands - mine inside of his - and my internal fibers were firing in all directions.  I was instantly overcome with emotions.  This – this was a feeling I hadn’t known.  I didn’t fight the thoughts or the questions – I allowed them to flood me.  Something inside me woken in that moment and I didn’t want to move – I wanted time to stay just like this.

The silence was broken when Haley got home that day.  By October we had really began connecting and expressing our feelings.  I won’t bore you with the details of our exchanges, but they were amazing and much like a fairytale.

I will never forget the first time Luke told me he was in love with me.  I was silent.  It was if he had been waiting to say it.  He had literally taken my breath with those 11 words "I'm in love with you Rachel and I always have been."  His stare was deep into my soul.  With palms sweating and heart racing I allowed him to kiss me.  Every fiber of my being melted into a puddle.  I had no anxiety nor any worry.  I had peace and unexplainable contentment.  His hands so gently cradled my face. His lips were sweet, moist and soft.  His voice was pure love.  His touch brought fire to the surface of my skin.  He grabbed me close and squeezed me so hard I could feel and hear his heartbeat in my chest.  For the first time we were in sync.  If this was a dream, I didn’t want to wake up.

I had never seen the movie “The Notebook”.  He said it was a classic and wanted to watch it with me.  There was something about the movie that connected me to him.  And so, one night the kids were gone and he and I sat on the couch and watched it.  As the house was being built and I intently watched the love and detail that went into building that house and my physical body lost it.  I wept.  Haley had been exactly that – the house – and I had always built her to hold the love I had for her daddy, and to love this man who was now sitting there on my couch watching this movie.  He had bottled up the love he had for me and went on about life all while in the back of his mind thinking back to the times we were together and this precious daughter he helped create.  That movie, that night, the words “I love you” rang from one side of my soul to the other.  I knew I loved Luke – actually, I knew he was built for me and I was built for him. 

I remember a time when I would say to myself “I’m homesick for a place I’ve never even been before.”  With Lucas that feeling went away.  I can’t wait to wake up each morning to talk to him and tell him about my dreams.  I can’t wait to come home from work to see him and get a hug from him.  I can’t check my phone enough times just to talk to him.  I can’t kiss him enough.  Literally there are no words to describe the love I have for him.

I can’t say bringing our life back together has been seamless.  There is so much more to write about – but these moments and this love was a fire that ignited me.  So, I’ll close with this…

A blurb from my wedding vows….I’ll post that soon.

To know you is to love you.  To touch you is to desire you.  To hug you is to feel your soul.  To kiss you is to see your heart. Being in love with you makes sense.   It brings joy, happiness, peace, contentment and sound mind.  It is beautiful and perfect.  Being in love with you is more than just the simple I love or I miss you – it is fulfilling, breathtaking, perfect, true, pure and forever.  It is the light in the morning and the goodnight’s rest each night.  It is the reason to smile and laugh.  It is the tears of joy and contentment.

You are an answer to a prayer I forgot how to pray.  You have been a light to remind me that God still loves me and you help to show me that every day. And the truth is, I gave my heart away a long time ago, my whole heart, and I never really got it back.  I love you baby and I’ll love you tomorrow and every day after that!  I know that I was created to love you and be loved by you!

 

 

Testimony Part 2 - Rededication - Marriage

This part of my testimony is the most difficult to write about.  It is the saddest for me personally – and took the biggest toll emotionally.

Plagued by teenage pregnancy, I struggled with self-worth.  I guess truth be told I never felt worthy of many things in life.  It was a dark cloud of depression and anxiety. I remember having it most of my life.

 

I’m going to pause here for a minute to address what depression and anxiety looks like to me.  It is waking up each morning and getting dressed.  It is putting on the best outfit I can, the make-up that flatters my appearance and making sure I have great hair.  It is a constant battle of thoughts and purpose.  It is dark to me yet looks like light to the world.  It is being held down by nervous feelings, a queasy stomach and feelings of fear. It is not eating one minute and overeating the next.  It is hiding from people in public to avoid their stare, gaze or even smile.  It is sleeping as late as I can in  hopes the day will go by faster.  Depression and anxiety often go hand in hand – for me, depression feeds anxiety.  Depression was getting up every day and attacking the day as thoughts, fear and anxiety attacked me and hindered me.  It is answering the phone with a happy voice yet feeling worthless in my attempt to hide my self-assigned shame.  It is smiling at everyone around while holding my breath hoping no one else saw me.  Anxiety is a silent, yet powerful sense of fear and doubt.  It literally teaches you to live inside of a shell that others can’t see.

 

Ok – back to the story….

At 17 years old I had to finish high school, learn to be a mom, work full time, pay for childcare, live, love, become an adult and still be me.  And I had no idea who me was.  Talk about a whirlwind of struggle.  I had this little human life – this perfect most undeserved gift, a baby boy – depending on me to get it together.  He was definitely a holding baby.  He loved to share kisses and be swaddled.  He adored the sound of my voice and slept so well. He loved to be rocked and hear me sing.  Holding my hand while I talked to him always melted me.   He often saw angels and shared with me what they looked like and who they were there looking over (more of this later).  He was perfect in all ways a tiny human could be.  He was breath when I couldn’t breathe – he was life when I couldn’t see – he was warmth when I felt alone and cold.  He was my heartbeat when my heart wanted to stop beating.  He was my reminder that God’s perfect love was given just for me. This perfect baby boy Chandler, the molder of my life, gave me purpose this side of heaven.  I may not have felt worthy, but I knew letting him down was no option after all; he was my gift from God.

 

My parents were our lifeline for a while.  Mom helped guide me with motherhood – dad helped remind me that I was still beautiful – my sisters were the only friends I could count on.  That was life as I knew it.  There were some people in the church who made it a point to speak life into me every Sunday.  I knew they were praying for me – but I was ashamed they were.  I had lost sight that prayer is what changes people.  Prayer is what makes us whole.  Prayer is what carries us in good and bad times.  Others standing in the gap for you is often times what carries you through.  Somewhere in the mist of life some of us, like myself, lose ourselves.  We go out and perform permissive will and pray that perfect will be done.  We seek for acceptance of those around us when in all reality, the Father is the only one we need, and He has already accepted us.  In this season of my life I knew God hadn’t forgotten about me.  Actually, I began to realize not only had He not forgotten about me, he loved me more now than I remembered. 

 

One Sunday in church, I felt the Holy Spirit grab me – I was shaken to the core.  Growing up Southern Baptist there was no Pentecostal praise and worship, jumping over the pews or anything like that.  There, in that pew, God settled my lonely spirit and I cried out to Him to free me from my own bondage –and, He did.

 

The door opened for a full-time job at a local real estate office.  I didn’t have to apply for the job – the lady told me that she knew I was the perfect one.  An elderly lady of the church gave me a vehicle.  This was a 1984 Ford LTD that was red in color.  This car was super ugly.  I’ll give you a moment to look at it. 

 

 

Trust me, not my choice, but proud of it I was!  It would get me to work.  It would get Chandler to daycare.  It would bring groceries home and get us to the doctor.  Granted, the radio in it was push button – the dial would jump clear to the other side but it worked.  That car was so hot – no air conditioner – could not get below a half of a tank in fuel or the carburetor wouldn’t work….but, she was mine.  Remember, I’m still very much at home.  I am a newly graduated 18 year old girl with a baby who worked at TJ Maxx.  I really enjoyed that job – but GOD!  God came through for me a full time job.  I was given the job of an office coordinator and went from minimum wage to $8.00 per hour and from 20 hours per week to a full on 40 hours.  I had not been that excited about anything in a very long time.  The owners of the company and the agents I worked with were amazing.  They all played a huge positive role in my life.  I met so many people and really began to feel as if life might not be so bad.  God was showing me that He was there and He was still very much my Father who loved me just as I was.  This new job was a sign of independence and a feeling of being on the right track.  Nights were not nearly as hard and days were not nearly as long.  I received a promotion soon after I started and was making an extra 50 cents per hour – talk about feeling rich! HA!

 

I had finally started dating again.  To me it had been an eternity of being alone – but looking back, it wasn’t long enough.  The inner most parts of me God wanted to work on, I wanted to fill with people and noise.  I often think about Adam in the garden – before Eve he had God himself…yet, he was still lonely.  I was in that place.  I had a big God, great parents, amazing sisters and a church family – but I was so lonely.  I allowed myself to be plagued by silence and the sheer thoughts of not being independent enough to live on my own.  The relationship I chose was, once again, an unhealthy one.  A person too old for me – a person too needy for me – a person that wasn’t in God’s will for me.  As our relationship rocked along, I convinced myself I could be happy with this person – but GOD.  God, got a hold of me and shook me to the core.  After a big argument with this guy and a horrible break-up, I knew that being with him was not where God wanted me.  So, I regressed back into the shell of comfort and isolation.  Church was the only place you would find me outside of work and the house.

 

I was in the Sunday School class of the pastor’s wife.  Looking back I truly feel like she picked that class because of me.  She spoke life and laughter into me every Sunday morning.  She went to doctor appointments with me and would bring me food.  She made me the class leader and told me that God had big things for me – I just had to believe it.  Of course, I didn’t.   Nonetheless, my friend since childhood, Helen came in that class with me.  She and I had finally started hanging out some and she was a new breath of fresh air.  One Sunday morning, the Sunday School teacher told me to be sure to introduce myself to the “new guy” in church and to invite him to class.  Eyes rolled hard in my head and I giggled, to play off the eye roll and said “OK”.

 

This blonde-haired guy was sitting with his parents.  As I walked over to shake his hand and welcome him, his eyes met mine.  For a brief moment I remember thinking “I think he saw my soul”.  Immediately I went on defense with myself.  “He didn’t want what he saw” – “Rachel, you are not going to see him anymore, he won’t come” – you name it, I said it.    With a nervous voice I introduced myself, invited him to Sunday School and walked away.  Sitting in church that day, I couldn’t help but keep thinking about that stare – the one that looked deep into my eyes.  His smile was big and his words were simple – wait, did I even speak back?  What did he say?  Did he say he would come?  I’m such an idiot, I was so caught off guard with that stare I didn’t hear a word he said.  Ironically enough, this boy who called himself Luke came back to church that evening and talked to me.  He came to Sunday School the following week and from there we began hanging out and talking. 

 

Time with Luke made my face hurt and my heart skip beats.  It made work days super long and nights extra short.  There were not enough hours in the day to spend with him or talk to him.  You can read the best part of our life story here (Click here).

 

It wasn’t long before we talked about being married.  For me, I wanted to be a wife because after all I was a mother.  I was in love with the thought of a family – actually, I wanted nothing more.  This boy, Luke, seemed to love me for me.  He invested in me and took care of me.  We took long road trips and laughed and even got pulled over by the cops.  We sang songs at the top of our lungs in his black ford Ranger truck.  He would bring me lunch to work and take Chandler on car rides.  We went to church and hung out with his friends.  It was just a good time all the time.

 

We took a road trip to North Carolina that November.  That was the best trip of  my life.  We got lost following directions.  We took some back roads to try and make up time.  Barney Fife, a back woods sheriff pulled Luke over for speeding and swerving all over the road.  See, Luke was fun – so as delirious as we were and in an effort to keep the trip fun outside of our inability to understand the directions correctly – he would tell me to keep my side of the truck on the road.  It wasn’t long before Sheriff Fife saw us and put his lights on.  Little did we know that he followed us for several miles before we saw him.  By the time we saw him, we were laughing so hard we didn’t believe we were actually being pulled over.  Luke stopped and as Sheriff Fife got out of the car, Luke in famous fashion said “Rachel, that is Barney Fife walking up!”  I turn and look and there he is outside the driver window.  Laughter filled my soul – holding my breath was impossible.  As Luke rolled his window down, Sheriff Fife asked, “is something funny?” – I’m literally crying – Luke manages to say “no sir”.  He asks me if I’m ok and implies he thinks I’m in danger.  I cannot get myself together – laughter is seeping out of my body.  He explains that he is charging Luke with reckless driving, speeding and I don’t remember what else.  I was scared but could NOT get rid of the giggles.  Mr. Fife was so got off with our laughter, he tells us to follow him to the station to fill out paperwork.  So, 18 and stupid, we follow him all the way to the station where we get arrested!  We had to post bond and everything.  It left a bitter taste, but back on the journey to get to the correct place because we had family waiting on us. 

 

We finally arrived and enjoyed Thanksgiving with my parents and family.  While there with my family, the sweetest grin on his face, Luke got down on one knee and popped the question “Rachel, will you marry me?”  I of course said “YES”…and there we were, engaged with the world ahead of us.  Happy – excited – in shock – ready.  I was all of those things.  I remember spending the next few days and weeks not being able to sleep – I loved this boy and he loved me.  His laughter infected the inner parts of me.  His love of life gave me life.  His ability to find the humor in all things made me feel lovable on a human level. 

 

We married shortly after – 30 days actually.  Our wedding day, December 28, 1999,  to say it was an interesting day doesn’t do it justice.  I paged him to let him know I was at work – cell phones were not what they are today.  We talked on the phone, “Rachel, are you really going to marry me today?”  Me, “yeah, if you really want me to.”  He said, “ok, I’ll be there at lunch to pick you up.”  And he did.  We spent an  hour at the court house getting married.  Giggling and truthfully not understanding the seriousness of marriage.  But we were not fearful or regretful.  We were not upset or distant.  We were now husband and wife – a mom and a dad – a unit – one. 

 

I remember sitting in his truck afterwards and not having words – just a smile.  I was totally in love with being in love and a wife.  No secret – my view was way off of perfect will of God, but I honestly felt complete in a weird way.  As I walked back into work with a small gold band on my finger, I was proud – happy – absolutely purposed and ready.  I shared with coworkers what happened and most of them, mothers and fathers of grown children themselves, smiled and shook their heads with mild disbelief and gave me a congratulations.  As soon as work was over, I rushed to Luke’s house because he had already had Chandler.  We loaded up and went to my parents’ house to tell them. 

 

I was nervous about telling them.  At this time in my life I never really expressed my feelings verbally.  Fear of disappointment crippled my words.  I have been this way since a young child.  I was not a child who was coddled or held a lot.  I don’t have memories of laying on the couch snuggling with my parents or anything.  So, I was always quiet.   I would make a decision and do that decision and wait for the aftermath.  This was obviously no different.  We went into the house and I can’t remember what was said – but I know I told them we got married at lunch.  My sisters were there.  Mom’s eyes filled up with tears and disbelief.  Daddy didn’t say much but “ok”.  At least now, in my mind, they didn’t have to worry so much about me. 

 

Our life together started in the home of our parents.  We soon saved enough money to get our own place.  A 2 bedroom apartment not far from my parents’ house.  It was roomy enough for the 3 of us.  I knew I was pregnant and that we needed our own space.  And so, life began.  I started working part time to save on childcare and keep up with keeping things in order at home.  Luke’s parents were generous and purchased us a washing machine and dryer.  I realized very quickly that I was a horrible cook.  I made hamburger helper and sandwiches while growing up – mom & dad made everything else.  Bless Luke – I attempted to fry chicken one night.  Little did I know that I was supposed to leave the skin on it and put enough oil in it to cover the meat.  There was smoke everywhere – and the inside of the chicken was red and bloody.  It was awful – but Luke ate it.  On another occasion I was so excited I made steaks.  I told him about it while he was at work and he seemed genuinely excited about it – once he arrived home, he realized I had purchased the smallest cuts of pork steak you could buy.  The meat was dry and tough – marinating it and cooking it slow was not something I knew how to do.  He didn’t complain, he just smiled, kissed me on my cheek and thanked me. 

 

Luke was patient with me as I was learning to be a wife.  I for the most part had mothering down pat.  I loved being a mom and now a wife.  I wasn’t great at it – but I worked hard at getting better.  We had friends come over from time to time.  We stopped going to church regularly and made every excuse in the world.  Chandler got very sick with rotavirus and was admitted into the hospital.  He was very, very sick.  I stayed with him in the hospital and Luke came to visit after work.  He ended up with the sickness also.  It took over a week to get everyone back to normal.  Soon after that, Luke ended up losing his job.  He was very upset over it and it caused a lot of financial stress in the house.  He started working with his dad to make ends meet.  It was at this time I should have went back full-time.  Finances were stressful but life was still good.  I had no idea the stress Luke was under and because I didn’t talk to my family about our issues, the only advice being received was from Luke’s parents. 

 

One night, Luke and I got into a huge argument.  I can’t tell you what about, but I can tell you that it changed my entire life.  Luke was so angry.  I remember thinking – its ok Rachel, husbands and wives fight.  I left the apartment for 2 hours to let him cool off and for me to gather my thoughts.  When I got back he was cold – distant – withdrawn – different.  He had no words to give to me.  He was laying on the couch and I went over to sit down beside him and he told me to get up – which I did.  I remember going to bed that  night crying my eyes out.  It was the first time in several weeks I actually prayed.  I could feel in my heart that I was about to lose my family – but kept saying to myself, this is normal, it is just a fight.  I woke the next morning praying it was all a bad dream and things would be back to normal – they weren’t.

 

I went onto work and came home that afternoon to Luke and his dad unpacking our apartment – the date was April 25, 2000.  Everything I owned was in bags like garbage.  There was no explanation.  There was no talking.  His dad didn’t attempt to talk or explain.  It seemed as if I deserved this.  I mean, I had nothing before Luke and they were doing me a favor by putting what was now mine in garbage bags.  Horror.  Disbelief.  Tears.  Agony.  Disappointment.  Failure.  Lost.  Those were just a few of the words I was thinking in that moment.  I got back in my car and went to my parents’ house.  My dad and hugged me and consoled me.  Literally carrying me to the car.  “Daddy, I don’t know what I did that was so bad?”  I didn’t understand at all – and neither did my parents.  If you know me, you know my relationship with my parents isn’t what it is with some and more of what it isn’t with others.  My parents didn’t involve us in adult talks and situations growing up so this was an utter shock in trying to deal with it or understand it.  Because they didn’t know the story or what happened, they didn’t have words…just hugs and reassurance that it would be ok.

 

Off to the apartment we went.  Dad went inside – I stayed outside.  Luke was coming in and out of the apartment with an expression I never forgot.  It was absolute anger and disgust.  My thoughts raced – I begged him to stop and talk to me – nothing.  I began picking up the bags and carrying them to the car.  How?  What now?  Really?  This?  With all that was in me, the life that was growing inside of me, the life that was at mom & dad’s waiting on me….what now?  Starting over again?  Surely this is just temporary.  I put my entire life savings into getting that apartment.  There was nothing left of it that was mine.  All the furniture was Luke’s – all the stuff aside from my clothes and Chandler’s clothes.  It was all his.  But the money for the place – I would get none of that back to start over.   My savings was for a life for my son and I and when I met Luke, I saved even more.  All of it – gone in the blink of an eye.  I remember begging the apartment manager to give me just half of it back – “I’m sorry Mrs. Day, legally I can’t do that – you broke the lease!”  Wait a minute…I didn’t break the lease – Luke and his dad broke the lease!  She told me, “you are welcome to stay in the apartment, but you will have to pay full rent.”  Something in me died that day.  It literally died right there. 

 

I left that day and don’t recall speaking for a couple of days.  Sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for the phone to ring or for a knock at the door.  Nothing.  Silence.  Grief stricken and feeling totally worthless, that bondage of depression I gave to God crept back in.  I’ve heard the old saying “don’t let the devil keep mashing replay…hit the stop button and remove the disc.”  I didn’t know how to do that.  I didn’t want to do that.  I wanted to wake up from this  nightmare.

Life after Luke started out very hard.  Plagued by feelings of worthlessness and unwanted, hiding is what I did once again.  You would only find me at church, work or home.  There was comfort there that I never found anywhere else.  It wasn’t the comfort I wanted, but it was the comfort I needed.  Daily co-workers would speak life into me.  Daily and even hourly, my parents and sisters would speak life into me.  The church rallied around me to pray for me.  There were days my mom made me get up.  For 5 long months, life was very hard - and I held out hope that Luke would return. 

 

He contacted me one day and asked me to meet him.  Hope filled my body and spirit.  We met at Malibu's - I was very pregnant - feeling huge and ugly.  He sat across the table from me and told me he was going into the Army.  He asked me if I would go with him.  Wait, you want me to GO with you?  I'm super pregnant - there is another baby at home and I'm just supposed to say yes?   I told him that I couldn't right now.  He told me we could start over - I didn't understand at that time that God could have saved our marriage.  I was plagued by fear and doubt!!  I knew he wanted me to go - to trust him, but my flesh wouldn't let me.  He told me how he wanted to be a solider and be a man - I didn't wan to take that from him.  I honestly don't remember much about that conversation other than feeling as if I was dreaming.  I can't go with you, Luke, we don't see each other, you don't come visit or talk to me on any kind of regular basis.  How could I?   

 

I labored our child without Luke – a long very stressful labor.  Haley Elizabeth was a huge baby – 10 pounds and 1 ounce.  2.5 hours of pushing – literally feeling as if I was dying.  I was ok with dying that day – I remember telling my mom I was going to die.  I had not seen her cry since the birth of Chandler – but that day, in that moment, she knew that’s what I was feeling – grief stricken death.  She told me I wasn’t going to die – and reminded me that things were going to be ok.  She kept saying “Rachel, time will heal this, I promise!”

 

There isn’t much I remember about that hard delivery.  I remember exhaustion.  I remember afterbirth being hard.  I remember feeling sick and weak.   The hospital memories I have of her birth are sending her get hospital pictures made and the elastic cutting off her circulation.  My daddy had to cut the elastic out of the wrist bands because her hands were purple.    I also remember spending the 2 nights of recovery alone there – putting the baby in the nursery – I know they brought her to me to nurse, but I don’t remember it.   I have no memory of bringing her home, getting her dressed or feeding her for the first time.  I have no memory of the first several weeks of her life.  I don’t know who visited or who called.  I don’t remember the paperwork or the doctor coming to check on me.  I’ve been told that was a grief thing.  Not remembering is part of healing.

Luke and I wrote letters back and forth - hope filled the inner most parts of me.  I remember him calling me once - he sounded so fragile yet strong.  Our conversation was very short, but it felt so good.   He really seemed to love me and boot camp seemed to redirect us back together.  On his brief return home, the kids and I saw him for a day.  We took pictures and laughed.  He held Haley and kissed her face.  He marveled at what a big girl she was and how he couldn't believe how fat she was.  We agreed that we could make it together and that we would work towards reconciliation.  That was the last time I saw him.
 

Once a routine was established and I accepted the fact that I was going to be a single mother of two small children, life got more bearable.  I can’t say I remember when it happened or how it happened, but it happened. 

One day at a red light my son Chandler asked me, “mommy do you see that?” 

Me: “See what?”
Chandler: “That angel on the red light?”
Me: “Which red light?”
Chandler: “that one mommy!  He is watching over that boy in the black car!”
 

Tears filling my eyes, God spoke through my son.  He was watching over us and we were going to be ok!  God ignited a fire in me giving me determination to be better than before.  He showed up and showed out by opening more doors for me.  Before Haley was 6 months old I was working full-time at the space center for a NASA affiliated company and still had a part-time job on the weekends at the real estate company.  I was making enough money to have my own apartment.  It was 1 bedroom & 1 bathroom…but it was mine.  My awesome co-workers at the real estate office helped me get furniture to get my apartment furnished.  I had never been so proud of a $40 living room suite or a $100 bedroom suite!  My “master bedroom” was decked out with a crib, double-bed and a dresser.  My bathroom was full of bath time toys and 4 towels.  My kitchen was full of cookware from my giving momma.  My parking space was right outside the door of my apartment and there was a pool onsite.  At least 3 times a week, momma called me to come eat at their house.  Truth be told, I prayed she would call me every day!  My parents were once again my lifeline to being normal and feeling worthy.   I was proud – yet physically lonely – I was grace-filled and forgiven – I was searching for new life and God started giving it to me.

 

In the next part of my testimony I will share about my second marriage and my reconnection with Luke after 15 years.