Are Miracles for Dogs Too?

We have 2 dogs.  Both of them are pugs.  We weren't looking for a pug when we set out to find a dog during our second year of marriage.  We went looking for a shelter dog.  Tucker was the first dog we saw and he was so cute.  I didn't even know what kind of dog he was or anything about pugs.  We picked him out and took him home and thus we became pug people.

He definitely looks older now than he did 10 years ago but he's still adorable

After we moved to our current home 5 years ago I was ready to start our family.  Unfortunately I had a health issue that delayed that process by a year or so.  So what does one do when you want a baby and are told to wait....Get another dog.  This time we went looking for a pug but still went looking for a rescue.  We found a rescue organization about 2 hours away and went down to pick out our new pug.  I wanted the playful one and Ryan wanted the one that just looked sweet.  She had been used as a breeder for the Amish and was sold at the farmers market like produce to someone who gave her to the rescue.  She was six years old and we knew she had lived a hard life already.  We didn't care and we brought home Libby 5 years ago.

Who couldn't love that face?

She doesn't like strangers too much but she loves people she knows.  She's much more typical pug in look and behavior.  She's about the sweetest thing ever and she became my baby.

Well, until we had a baby.  Then Libby and Tucker took their place on their beds and have been living out their lazy comfortable life like good dogs do.  That is until this spring.  We took them in for physicals and the vet said that Libby's stomach seemed tender.  2 weeks later I took her back to the vet because her abdomen had swollen to twice the size.  An x-ray clearly showed a tumor the size of a football growing from her liver.  The vet said that it would be quick since it was a rapid growing tumor and gave us signs to look for that it was "time".

I went home devastated.  I texted my family that we were going to lose her within weeks or maybe days.  We tried to prep Ainsley for the loss of another animal (chicken deaths have been plenty this summer!)  And the tumor did grow.  It stretched her loose skin to the point we thought she might rip open.  She struggled to climb the stairs but that was the only sign of discomfort.  We were just watching and waiting.

We went to the beach and had 2 different people split the week watching her.  She did great at the first but by the time we came home and picked her up from the second I thought I was going to have to take her right to the vet.  She had gone WAY down hill.  Her stomach looked like she was a snake that had swallowed a mongoose.  She couldn't breath.  She was throwing up every time she ate.  But I brought her home so Ainsley and Ryan could say goodbye. 

3 hours passed and she seemed to perk up.  So we decided against any decisions.  Then about a week later Ryan asked me if her stomach was smaller.  Sure enough it was.  It was shrinking daily.  And about 2 days ago we really looked at her.  The tumor is GONE.  COMPLETELY GONE!  I called the vet.  She stammered through a conversation telling me she was shocked and happy and yet had not even an inkling of a guess to what had happened.  She assured me it could not have ruptured or she would have died almost immediately. 

So today we sit amazed at our little miracle dog.  She's fine.  She's eating.  She's happy.  She's climbing stairs.  She's very much alive.

Miracles can happen and not just to people.

So Far

After having the miscarriage in November, I thought that being pregnant again would be the best thing ever.  And while we are very excited, it hasn't been the best thing ever. 

Ainsley's pregnancy was so easy.  I was naive and just assumed everything was fine at every turn.  I never got sick and had very little symptoms.  Although I didn't feel her move until 20 weeks, I didn't know any different.  Each checkup brought excitement and wonderful anticipation. This pregnancy has been 100% the opposite. 

From the day that I found out I was pregnant, the anxiety hit.  Actually, I knew I was pregnant a good week before I took the test.  I am an early tester but this time I was determined to wait until I was sure I would get an accurate result.  So at 4 weeks and 2 days, I took a test.  If you know anything about pregnancy tests, you know you are supposed to do them first thing in the morning.  Feeling like I had already waited an eternity, I didn't wait until morning and took my test after I got home from work.  Before I could even put it down, the test came up blaring positive.  I started to laugh but immediately the fear set in.

I told Ryan the exact same way I have told him each time.  He got home from work and he met me in the kitchen.  I handed him the test without saying a word and the look on his face was awesome, as it has been all 3 times. 

But from that moment on, the anxiety has just grown.  With each trip to the doctor, I have major panic and fear.  It usually starts 2 to 3 days before my appointment.  I start to doubt the pregnancy and fear the worst.  Then the night before I usually end up not sleeping and feeling like a hot mess.  My wonderful husband has been a rock star and continually lays hands on me and prays over me.  It's the only thing that puts me at ease at all.

I have felt sicker this pregnancy than with either of the other 2.  It seems to have hit at night around 4:00 to the time when I go to bed.  This vegetarian could not stand the thought of cooked veggies.  Not the ideal situation for sure.  But through the sickness and shear exhaustion, I was able to thank God for signs that this pregnancy was indeed different.

We were able to go in for an ultrasound at 7.5 weeks and then heard the heartbeat at 10 weeks.  I was scheduled for another ultrasound on July 11th.  After a relaxing week away with family, I came back that Monday morning to another appointment and another round of anxiety.  Ainsley and I were about 10 minutes away from getting to the doctor's office when my cell phone rang telling me that my appointment had been postponed a day. 

Sounds like not a big deal but then I looked at the calendar.  My ultrasound was now scheduled for what should have been my due date.  This seemed to double the anxiety.  I was already dreading that day but now I had the pressure of an ultrasound on top of it.  What if something went wrong.  Could I handle that on an already hard day? 

There are 2 ultrasound techs at our doctors office.  The one who told me we were miscarrying and the other one who has the sweetest heart.  I schedule my appointments with the other one just out of fear.  The one that told us we were miscarrying is fine and good at her job, but that image is permanently ingrained in my head.  When the appointment was rescheduled I didn't even think about it.  We got to the office and I saw her right away.  I looked at Ryan, who seemed to be clueless as to what I was even talking about and asked him to pray again. 

And everything was fine.  And now I am not feeling as sick.  I'm getting bigger by what seems to be the hour, although not according to the scale (which is awesome!).  But I'm not feeling the baby move yet.  And so the anxiety remains. 

Looking back at the past year, I realize that my life is not in my control.  I've lived my whole life that way.  I say that I trust God but really I trust myself.  And now I can't do that.  I only have one option.  Prayer and Faith in a good God.  But a God who promises trials.  A God who stretches us and helps us grow.  A God who loves us and carries our burdens.  And that's enough for me.  I'm not responsible for carrying this burden and this anxiety.  It's not mine to hold, just like this baby isn't mine to hold.  It's His. 

And that is a relief.

Past, Present, and Future

Today I am mixed with emotions.  When you think about your life, it easily breaks down into the past, the present, and the future.  Lately when I think about my life, I think about it in those terms but how that relates to our children and our family.

Past
When I look at the past, I am thinking about the baby that was lost.  Today was my due date.  I think about what could have been.  I can't help to think about the lessons and the growth that I have experienced as well.  In times of great struggle, there is always room for great growth.  I feel blessed to have the people in my life who continually have pointed me to the cross during this time.

Present
When I think about the present, I can't help but think about the child that I have in this world.  Ainsley turned 3 last week.  It's hard to believe that 3 years have already passed.  She is sweet.  She is loving.  She is sassy.  She is funny.  She is full of innocence.  She is pure-hearted.  She is the greatest gift that I have ever been given.

Future
When I think about the future, I am now full of hope. 

 (Apparently I can't scan straight!).

Praise God from whom all Blessings Flow

Found

I once was lost but now I'm found. - Anna Marie

I don't know where she was.  I don't know where she came from.  She just appeared as quickly as she disappeared.  We are happy she is safe!

Crazy Like a Chicken

I haven't written in a while.  I hate being repetitive so I've taken a bit of a break.  But I have some chicken craziness to talk about.

As you know, this winter/early spring we lost our chicken Amy Jo to an unfortunate accident.  We decided to replace her and go 2 new chickens, Cindy Lou and Ginny Lee.

Here's Ginny Lee.  She's kind of shy and won't come out of the coop unless you are far away.

The adjustment was going well.  Ginny Lee and Cindy Lou hang out together and our older black chickens Sadie Mae and Peggy Sue hang out together.  All was good in chicken world.

Then there was another incident.  Peggy Sue broke her leg.  We aren't really sure how it happened but she did.  And there is no way we could fix it.  We offered her to Ryan's coworker who works on a farm to eat.  He came and got her one evening.  In hopes that it wouldn't be too traumatic on Ainsley we told her that the chicken was going to live with God. (I know this theology is wrong and we will correct it eventually, but she's 2.)  When they came to pick her up, we put her in box and nicely said goodbye.  Ainsley later asked me why the man took our chicken if she was going to live with God.  I told her she needed some help in getting there.  That is when Ainsley responded with this classic line.  "Is he going to take her to Sunday School?"  Even now when we pass church on our way home from my nanny's house, she still says something about the chicken living there.  Ooops.  But I love the hearts of children.

Here is mother hen Sadie Mae and little chicken Cindy Lou.

Surprisingly Sadie Mae did not take Peggy Sue's departure well.  She was making tons of noise and looking for her daily.  So we decided to replace her too.  On Tuesday we picked up Anna Marie.  She is another black chicken.  When we brought her home she was scared of her new environment, which we thought was normal.  Sadie Mae just ignored her.  Ginny Lee and Cindy Lou were not so nice.  They would chase her around the coop and peck her until everyone was so tired they just went to sleep.

In order to spare Anna Marie some pecking, we let them loose in the yard.  Last night we were late in getting Ainsley to bed and by the time Ryan went out to put Anna Marie in the coop (the rest go on their own), she was gone.  He looked for her for a half an hour.  And then I looked for her for 20 minutes.  She's gone.  We have looked in every bush and under the deck.  She's just gone.  We thought she would come out this morning.  Nope.  Still missing.

Here is all we have left of Anna Marie right now.  A filthy box.

To Be Continued...

Hands

There is something about hands.  They are so distinct.  I feel like if you know someone, you know their hands.  You know the length of their fingers.  You know how they keep their nails.  You can picture them in your head. 

The other day we were at lunch with Ryan's family.  Ainsley was fascinated with Great Grandma's hands.  It was like she was memorizing them.  Maybe Ainsley knows deep down that Great Grandma, who is 91, won't be with us forever.  Maybe she was taking that mental snapshot. 

 
Or maybe she was just being a 2 year old interested in why Great Grandma's hands have so many wrinkles and bumps. 

Either way, the snap shot is not only here now, but it's in my head.  It will stay there forever because I love both of these people that belong to these hands.

You Taught Me

You taught me to eat

You taught me to walk

You taught me my ABCs

You taught me to swim

You taught me to shuffle cards

You taught me to snap

You taught me to be a good friend

You taught me how to cross stitch

You taught me to eat spaghetti with a spoon

You taught me to bake

You taught me to study

You taught me how to grieve

You taught me how to work hard

You taught me how to let go

You taught me to not take myself too seriously

You taught me how to sew

You taught me how to manage my money

You taught me to make my own decisions

You taught me confidence

You taught me empathy

You taught me how to be a loving wife

You taught me patience

You taught me how to put family first

You taught me kindness

You taught me how to be a good mother

You taught me love

But most importantly, you taught me about Jesus.

Happy Mother's Day to the best Teacher in the world