More "Lessons from Spain"

I tell you what…if finding out I was pregnant after a trip to Spain was a way to learn things such as, the sky is the limit, throw caution to the wind, live life to the fullest, OR, say, the opposite, like, be careful, look both ways when crossing the street, always bring an umbrella, well, then the last week has been good for me, in a hellish sort of way.

The age I would be at time of delivery. (Graffiti in Barcelona)

And by “good for me” I mean, “Holy Ship My Pants, Batman!”  Please know, I don’t mean this disrespectfully.  I know, KNOW, know many women who have longed to be mama’s in their life time’s…some never experiencing it, others having only gotten to treasure it for a short time, some never getting to hear their sweet babies cry, or meeting their child face to face.  I, too, have had 2 miscarriages and lost a yummy sweet boy sooner than I ever imagined possible.  I am not discounting these longings, whatsoever.

Translation:  Do not let your dog ship its pants here in this public space.

But I won’t lie when I tell you that for the last few days I have had irregular breathing patterns thinking about the “what if’s” if I were, indeed, pregnant.  And I won’t lie.  Those days were dark in my head and heart. 

Last night as I fell into bed I told my husband I didn’t even need to lower myself down, I simply collapsed under my own body weight.  Still not having shed all my “Viva Espana” weight, then getting PMS like nobody’s business (I NEVER have it, NEVER, no cramps, no tenderness, nada), I was sure we were in for a surprise, and not like, “Ooooh, awesome!”, but more like, “Holy Ship My Pants-ness, Ryan’s going to be a big brother?! #$%^&*.”

I named off two friends I’d consider giving our baby to, since they are looking to adopt.  My heart was heaving and not thrilled at the thought…at all. 

What can I say?  Yes, I celebrate and love children, but these are the real thoughts that went through my head and heart.  I’m sure you’ve never thought this.  Clearly, I suck more than you.

Before I drifted off, however, I told Jason, “If it’s a girl, I’m naming her Georgie.”

This morning I looked at my calendar, counted days, tried to remember what I was thinking or if I had been thinking and, HOLY SHIP MY PANTS, were we even thinking?  I rolled out of bed, pulled up my bootstraps, and actually smiled at the new found peace that had settled into my heart over night. 

“Georgie…totally.  We’ll name her Georgie, and maybe her middle name will be Madrid or Barcelona.” 

I headed into what is usually one of my favorite days of the week:  LAAAAAAA!  Thursday.  My day.  A day where Ryan hangs with our fabulous babysitter and I head to the library, word-nerd heaven, where I sit amongst books and thoughts and dreams to read and write and enjoy the quiet.

First stop, the coffee shop for something with almond milk, “to-go”.  Second stop before setting up my portable office at the library:  the ladies room.

(The following is a text conversation)

A:  “You’re lucky…”

J:  “That made me laugh.”

A:  “I’m glad my bleeding uterus is funny to you. I almost shipped my pants with worry!”

A:  “But, the name Georgie for a little girl IS fabulous!”

A:  “Maybe it’ll be my pen name…hmmm, yes!”

J:  “Your pen name should be Georgie or Bleeding Uterus?”

A:  “Probably Bleeding Uterus.  It’s raw, catchy, authentic…”

I’m not sure I’ll use “Georgie” or “Bleeding Uterus” or something else entirely as a pen name, but I do know this:  I will always write vulnerably and with authenticity, because this particular lesson from Spain is:  life doesn’t always turn out as we plan, but I already know from experience, it can be more beautiful than we ever imagined.

*And, a couple bonus “Lessons from Spain:” menses symptoms are greatly affected by how clean one eats.  It was a reminder, and a heck of a way to re-learn this, but my body tells me things and I need to listen.  Moderation.  And, make that appointment...

Foods that contribute to monthly bloating, mood swings, and cramps: amazing churros from Barcelona

A picture my husband said I'd never post since it's not flattering...I don't know what's not flattering about eating an entire crab by yourself, soaked in butter, but arrrrrr, I love crab!  Living it up, eating without regrets/symptoms in Espana.

Laguardia, Espana, aka, Wine Country, being kissed by my prince on top of a castle...*alcohol, another contributor to monthly swings.

More on the food tour: constipation and bloating,  I mean ice cream and molten chocolate cake with some sort of awesomeness on the side... 

Reminder, Adrienne:  you feel healthy when you eat healthily

So, no.  There is no Georgie Madrid Graves on the way.  The only baby we brought home from Spain is this Spanish Mater.  #vivaespana

SAHM Ships Her Pants in the Big City

Yesterday I woke up sure I was dying of colon cancer.

I actually had all the signs according to the NIH.
 
The last month has proved to be a loose operation around here...and by "around here" specifically I mean me, my toilet, and I.  Almost a month ago I decided to do a Daniel Fast to pray about some specific things in my life and a lot of people in my life, and also to clean up my body a bit.  God put certain people on my heart and my times of study were really rich.  It's always easier for me to fast while Jason is out of town and since he was headed to India for a week and a half I chose that time frame.  In true anal (huh) fashion, I typed up a schedule of my Daniel Fast, what foods were allowed, pretty much just veggies, and also wanted to be smart and take certain supplements to be sure I was cleaning out impurities as they released over the course of the week and a half.  All I know is, after a few days and some research and re-calculating, I "discovered" (since the evidence wasn't enough?) that I was ingesting enough fiber for me and my family of 4...and probably your family of 4, as well.

photo courtesy of 4unews.com

Those are times I'm grateful my husband is out of town...I kid you not, I could barely breathe in bed every night.  And I'm not talking about sinus congestion.

Jason got home from India bringing some sort of foreign guest along in his colon.  Poor guy was way more worse off than I was, speaking of "loose operations" and all.  He finally got some meds and he was back in regular business after a couple of days.

Anyway, with him home, once he was able to eat again, I re-introduced fish and a little more lean protein to my "fast".  And, since he got home prior to the weekend and we had a birthday party and I had been solo with the kids for 10 1/2 straight days and I'd eaten clean all that time and lifted, did Yoga, and hit the treadmill each day, I had a glass of wine on date night.  And some popcorn.  And split a gluten free dessert after dinner, but I was writing a "Trip Advisor" review, so that was important because, of course, no one cares and I'm not getting paid for it...but I was going to go back to clean the next morning.

And I got back to pretty clean/balanced eating but none of my "deposits" had gone back to "normal."  In fact, at night my liver was hurting so I'd wake up and flip onto my left side to get back to sleep.  This, of course, put Jason in a trapped state, but since he sleeps through most things, I mean, what can you do? 

And then there are a few details I'll leave out...

Finally I decided to back off my protein powder supplement laden with fiber, as well as my other fibrous supplements, and just let the regular fiber in my veggies do the trick to get me back to a regular pooping kind of girl...not to mention, I was headed to New York City for the upcoming weekend and didn't want to become familiar, like some old person, with all the restrooms in the City.

This plan worked well.  Over the course of the weekend, walking miles and miles, hanging out with friends, hitting gluten-free foodie restaurants and strolling the tulip lined streets all over the City, I realized my bowels and I were, again, at one with the Universe.  Except for on Sunday evening when I looked and felt 7 months pregnant, without exaggeration, and could not for the life of me figure out what the culprit was because even though I had indulged a little in the City, I still didn't eat my allergens.  I went to bed that night, sleeping on my left side, holding my baby belly, hoping all would be well in the morning.

The next morning was our day to leave.  We hit a local diner for breakfast and shared blueberries and an omelet.  I don't eat eggs.  I haven't had eggs in probably a year and a half because my blood work shows it to be my most extreme allergen.  But I thought, "Eh, it won't be that big of a deal...it's cleaner than me eating something like a straight up donut or piece of cheesecake or something..."

We got to the airport, seated on the plane, I fell fast asleep after take off with one of those horrifying open-mouthed plane deep sleeps we've all experienced.  All was well with my little world.  About a half an hour prior to landing I woke up because I was 7 months pregnant again.  My baby was raging mad...kicking...wanting out.

I wasn't quite ready to "deliver" on the plane.

We de-planed and headed to the ladies room, but I guess it was just premature labor.

After a 45 minute drive home, I walked in the door and, let's just say, it wasn't pretty...at all...for four days straight.  The first night, in what is shy only a month of 20 years, Jason had to hit the couch for the first time because I was in and out of bed every 4 minutes.  "Hi, I'm home!  I'm sure you are so happy to have me home from NYC, huh?!"

Anyway, thankfully my sister was here during this time and was so very helpful with the kiddos while Jason was at work and I was "in my office."  He said, "I bet you got food poisoning or something."  I kept thinking, "I split meals with my friends and none of them are sick so it must just be some hidden allergen." 

When things slowed a bit I started doing a little research about bowels and guts.  I researched the Mayo's site, several natural health and infectious disease sites, read a few books on Crohn's and colitis and inflammatory bowel disease.  I researched the causes, the symptoms, the underlying factors.

Jason said I probably got what he had when he got home from India.

I reminded him of my already tender digestive tract prior to my trip and told him it was more likely a sudden onset of Crohn's...but deep down, I knew it was colon cancer and I was sad because I had heard two stories of people finding out they had cancer only two weeks prior and they left their families prematurely and my grandma had several inches of her colon removed and my parents have gut stuff and so do my sisters and with all my "fasting and cleansing" and eating clean and chocolate and wine binges, I'd probably jacked up my whole system and I was weeping because I wanted to watch Emily and Ryan grow up to love God and live boldly for Him and I had so much I needed to write down so they would know how much I love them and what kind of people they should marry and that they could be whatever they wanted to be if God was at the center of their lives being honored in it, and I wanted to renew my vows with Jason on our 20th, but now we weren't going to Spain until August and would I make it until then and had I really left the world a better place than I found it or had I just wasted space and time and talents and there was so much to do if I was going to die, even though I wasn't afraid of it...

Jason said, "Sweetheart, please just make an appointment with Dr. Snook and Dr. Julie and they can do some tests.  You probably just have a virus or something, but you won't ever know until you go.  And you need to stop doing research on the Internet for a while.  Like, take a 5 day break or something...I mean it."  He prayed for me in the kitchen and headed out the door for an overnight to Florida for work.

I got the kids in the car, did carpool, and headed up during rush hour traffic to a last minute appointment my friend had available.  The back pain was worse.  The cancer has spread.  And now nausea.  Last stages.  I was no longer seven months pregnant but rather, skinny from my week of steady trips to the loo.  My doctor friend (who I have known for 10 years and we are very, very close and she knows me all too well) said, "Hey, you look great!  What are you doing?"  I said, "I've been shitting in my pants all week non-stop...I'm not sure there's a secret to it...you just loose weight?!*&%$#"  

She said, "What's going on?"

I said, "I'm a mess! (*Insert BAWLING...)  I think I have colon cancer or Crohn's or something..."

She checked me out, did a couple tests and said, "You have a virus..."

And then she said, "You need to take this because this will help, but I'm pulling out the Big Guns..."

And then she prayed for me.  Not just for my guts but for my mind and my train of thought and my heart and some of the details I can't share here yet and God gave me His peace.

Life is short and I do need to write a few things down for both Emily and Ryan.  But I also need to live right here.  Right now, with INTENTION.

And I don't know when my life here on Earth is meant to come to an end because I'm not in charge of that but I trust the One who has my days numbered in His grand plan.  I'm taking a break from digestive research even though it's fascinating and I know from self-experimentation and documented research the benefits of clean eating on disease and health.

But for now, I will live with INTENTION.

My thoughts had become cancerous, not my bowels. 

I will not allow my head and heart to run on rabbit trails, but when and if I do, I know the One, my loving, steadfast Savior, who remains faithful even when I go darting off.

I guess I just needed the reminder:  It's the slow and steady tortoise who wins in the end.

*Ever had a crazy "end of the world" kind of day?  You can leave it in the comment section so I don't feel like the only one, or you can NOT and that's okay, too...either way, it felt good to write it out...

Have a good weekend!

Sweet Chorus of Chaos!

Setting:  Suburbia, one of the best towns to live in USA, kitchen/nook/great room, 36 animal flash cards strewn about, 37 large Lego's also strewn, 2 baskets of clean unfolded laundry, one counter top covered with after school paraphernalia, another counter top covered in veggies for food prep, cup stacking mat and florescent green cups in center of kitchen table, the other 14 animal flash cards stuck upright in long crack of old schoolhouse kitchen table, 3 squashed grapes on floor, 4 pieces of paper with crayon sketched nay nays and moo moos on floor under table, left side of sink filled with clean dishes, right side stacked up to Jesus with dirty ones.

Characters:  One 10 year old 5th grade girl who rides the fence of wanting to be a little kid and a young lady; one 2 year old boy who knows the sound of every animal on the planet (or at least his 50 flash cards) who also, incidentally, had a temp of 102.5 earlier today which broke during his nap which woke him up early which plays a key role in his behavior in this particular setting; one 40 year old mom just trying to make dinner; one beautiful 30 year old friend who was gracious enough to endure the setting, characters, plot, conflict, and lack of resolution, who also brought fabulous fresh berries for dessert; one 4 pound black and brown full grown Maltipoo with a quarter pound bark collar on her neck who still yips and yaps regardless of said collar.  (Character NOT in play: suburban dad/hubby...)

Plot/Exposition:  40 year old mom who has had one shower this week would love to enjoy adult interaction with 30 year old friend (since suburban husband can't hang out on phone while overseas on work trip) while making a yummy dinner for all characters involved, then to tuck animal loving 2 year old into bed early since his fever from the night before had kept him and said 40 year old mom awake until 1:30 am, and tuck in 10 year old daughter because those moments are so great for old mom's heart, and finally to finish up chatting with young, beautiful, energetic 30 year old girlfriend who has no wrinkles.

Conflict:  Little boy wants his dinner now, not when hazelnut and herb crusted salmon, sauteed squash, mushrooms, and broccoli are finished, but EN. OH. DOUBLE YOU.  NOW!  Exhausted but not completely worn thin 40 year old mom who did get in a 1 1/2 hour yoga routine today gets mushrooms done first, then zucchini, then finally broccoli...Bubbly awesome young friend cuts peels off apple slices for little boy who is yelling, "Opples!  Opples!  Moose!  Moose!  Nay Nays!  Nay Nays!  Moy!  Moy!"  5th grade girl is on front porch reading because it's part of her homework, however, could be helping saute SOMETHING!  Little boy without a fever but with lots of energy dumps plate of leftovers on his freshly cleaned hair and shouts, "DONE!  DONE!  DONE!  MOOSE!  MOO MOO!  CAMEL!"  Needy, but sweet, 4 lb dog sitting by front door where her 10 year old master sits just inches on the other side.

Ongoing Internal Conflict:  Smelly shower-less 40 year old mom keeps eye-balling the half bottle of red wine in the refrigerator, all the while thinking if she just drank it, it would calm the chaos, or at least take the edge off...but said mom knows better than to drink alone since gorgeous helpful 30 year old is on a cleanse so red and white and tequila and all other indulgences are off limits.  And then 40 year old mom snaps to and remembers she's detoxing, too, so that's the end of that internal conflict.

Continued Conflict:  Truly, truly, an inability for either grown-up to complete any given thought or sentence or story or...

• In the MIDDLE of dinner, "Hey, can I show you guys a hand stand?"
• "Moo moo!  Nay Nay!  Done!"
• "I'm so sorry you had to go to a funeral..."
• "Do I have to eat all of this lettuce?"
• "Ooooh, Mommy!  Juice!"
• "Can I have chocolate when I am done?"
• "So were you able to spend time with family or see...?"
• "Um, before it gets too dark will you guys come out in the backyard and watch me do a hand stand?"
• "Moy!  Moy!  Moy!  Moy num nums!"
• "Done!  Done!  Moose!  Done!"
• "Can you send chocolate in my lunch tomorrow?"

Climax:  While piecing together the scene and series of events, 30 year old amazing helper friend with great hair and arms says to mom whose head has collapsed onto old schoolhouse table in an attempt for a solo retreat, "I think I'm starting to piece together why you asked me earlier to pray for you and God's purpose in your life...I will definitely be praying for that, friend."

Resolution:  10 year old clears dishes from the table after asking politely if she may be excused, then proceeds to do a fabulous hand stand in back yard.  2 year old escapes out the back door into backyard and does somersault while saying hi to the neighboring woof woofs.  Faithful and selfless 30 year old friend cleans the kitchen, the way her 40 year old friend would clean it.  Amazingly strong yoga momma climbs stairs with 27 pound 2 year old in her arms and has success on 2nd attempt to tuck in said toddler, albeit 2.5 hours after first attempt.  5th grade girl gets ready for bed, including feeding/watering/pottying of furry friend, without being asked by Super Mom who is still dressed in all black from working as a secret agent with the CIA, uh, doing yoga 8 hours earlier and smelling like it.

I love my best friend of 22 years, 19 of them married...

I love my nose-picking toddler..

I love backyard nudity...

I love being shot with water guns by my 10 year old...

*Note water drips from being shot...

I love that, thankfully, colored hair extensions and feather earrings aren't moral issues...

I love Gary the Cowboy who let me shoot off a little steam recently..

I love that my toddler can say words like:  "Done!  Moose!  Nay Nay!"

I love the beautiful gracious gift of God who has taught me so much over the last 10 years...

I love that even though she is growing up, she still wanted to have a tea party at American Girl...

I love being a mom.  I really do.  I mean it.

And I love being a wife.  I really do.  I mean it.

These are two hats I wear and two roles I'd like to think I play decently, at least in my family.

However, what if I had never gotten married or what if I'd never had kids.

Who would I be?  

Not like, "Oh, I wish I hadn't!" or "What am I missing out on?" This isn't a mid-life crisis question or anything like that.

BUT:  Before I was a mom I was a wife.  And before I was a wife, I was a young woman...one with dreams and passions and ideas, some of which have really and truly come true...namely: Jason, Em, Noah, and Ryan.  Others that seem they are so covered in dust and cobweb perhaps on their way to fossilization. 

The other night before my husband was leaving for a week-long trip to the Dominican Republic for his job with Compassion International, which incidentally is my dream job since I was in college of traveling the world, working with nationals in country to reach their countrymen, and help women and children...we were just laying in bed talking for a few minutes after the house was finally quiet.

I said, "You know, buying a sports car, getting a tattoo, or having an affair are obvious mid-life crisis symptoms.  I don't want any of those things, but I can't even begin to tell you how out of my element I feel lately.  Your job is literally my dream job, I'm not coveting it, but it's crazy that you are living out my passion for missions.  And then I love to write but haven't written anything in forever and haven't felt inspired to write, or even read anything, either.  I mean, I love my Bible and have been reading that tons and actually, the only writing I've been doing is with pen and paper, writing scriptures, but it's like for the first time in years, I have nothing to say or convey.  And, I feel like I'm supposed to encourage other women but don't even know where to begin, and the truth is, I really MISS encouraging women and being used in that way.  I know I am supposed to be a wife and mom, and I love those things very much, I am not sure if I remember what I love or am good at in addition to that anymore...I just want to be faithful with the gifts and strengths God has given me, however I don't really know what they are at this given moment."

This isn't discontent or dissatisfaction with my life.  I love my life.  I am so very grateful to God for each person and every blessing.  Believe me, we talk about our thousands and thousands of gifts, and write lists of gratitude...

Presently I simply feel purposeless.  Do you ever feel that way?  And if so, do you have encouragement of how to become un-purposeless?