For This Child

I have written this post a thousand times in my head, and I just can't seem to get it quite right. There are so many pieces and so many angles and I can't seem to place them together perfectly.  So, now I'll sit fingers-to-keyboard and hope I have better luck this way.

For this child I have prayed...

Before our wedding, Austin and I went through a series of pre-marital counseling sessions with Father Tom, the priest who would marry us.  Father Tom has been a part of my family since I was a baby - maybe before I was born? - so he's known me and my journey along the way.  In one of our sessions when we were talking about the military side of our marriage, deployments and such, when Tom looked at Austin and said one of the most profound things he could have said.  I didn't even know, at the time, just how profound it was.  He told Austin that the single most significant experience in my life was my dad's illness and death and that, because of that, I would always link my future experiences to that one.  I knew he was right, I just didn't know to what degree.

About two months ago, after I had started my period for the 14th painful month in a row, my cousin said "I'm so sorry that God is saying 'not right now'."  Chelsea has been one of the most supportive people over the last year and she has offered me so much strength and wisdom, but when she said that I got so angry.  I was growing very tired of people saying things like "It's just not time yet" or "Soon you'll see, it'll be perfect in God's time" or something of that nature.  It wasn't that I didn't appreciate the support and encouragement.  What bothered me was that all of these people seemed to just blindly believe that I would be a mother of two (or more).  Everyone kept trying to assure me that certainly it would happen, and that I just needed to be patient.  And it was on this day, when Chelsea made that comment, that I realized I didn't have that same faith.  In my heart I really believed that this journey was a part of my life for a reason and it would serve a purpose but that, in the end, I would never have another child of my own.  Maybe we'd adopt, or maybe William would be an only child forever, but I really believed that God's plan was for me to not bear another child.  The reality of my belief brought a pain deep in my stomach like I hadn't felt in a long, long time.  It took a lot of prayer and soul searching for me to put a finger on exactly why I didn't believe I'd be blessed with another baby. 

About a week after Chelsea's comment it hit me:
In all my life, there is one thing for which I have prayed more than anything else.  My dad.  I learned how to pray through my dad's illness.  I learned what it meant to pray when you were sad, pray when you were happy, pray when you were worried, or scared, or joyful.  I learned what it meant to continue to rely on God in the good times and pray even harder in the bad.  And I have never prayed for one single thing more than my dad.  But, in the end, I learned the hardest lesson about prayer and reliance on God: his plan is not always our plan, and when he answers prayers it is not always in the manner which we'd hope.  I prayed he'd heal my dad and deliver my family from the struggle with cancer.  God answered that prayer, yet my dad was still not with me.  It took years to wrestle with that, and if I'm being honest that wrestling match will probably never be over.  There will always be times when I look back and wonder why 3 kids had to lose their dad when he was such a phenomenal parent.  Why my mom had to lose her husband.  Why my grandma had to lose her baby.  Why was that the answer to our prayers?  Why him?  Why not someone else?

Most days I don't ask those questions anymore, as I realize that God has a plan for all of us.  My dad did amazing things in his life and touched people in ways most never will.  He touched people through his cancer and his life has impacted the lives of people fighting cancer for decades to come.  And there are parts of my life which would never have been possible or worked out how they did had that not been God's plan.  God didn't  give me my heart's desire, but he did answer my prayers.  

And so I linked our fertility struggles to my dad's illness and death.  Just like Father Tom knew I would.  The thing I have prayed for more than any other, besides my dad, was to have a second baby and as time went on I began to believe that God's answer to my prayers would end up just like his answer to my prayers 16 years ago.  I would learn a lesson and maybe touch some lives, but my heart's desire would not be granted.

Oh ye of little faith.

If you don't already know, Austin and I are SO thrilled to share that we will be welcoming Wallis Baby #2 in June 2014. I used to wonder how I would ever love a baby the way I love William, but I have learned exactly how possible it is over the last 15 months.  Through endless prayers and aches in my heart a love began to grow long before a baby ever did.  And in some ways, I am more excited to announce my second pregnancy than I was to announce my first.  I don't love this baby any more than I loved William, but I sure did long for it more.  I'm excited to see William as a big brother, I'm excited to see Austin with another tiny baby, but most of all I can't wait for that moment when the nurse lays my sweet baby on my chest and I am able to thank God for his beautifully answered prayers.

Boy, girl…I truly, truly do not care. (although, if I was forced to choose, I think my choice would not be what most people expect it to be)  I love this baby with every ounce of my being and I am so thankful not only that God answered my prayers, but that He taught me this lesson along the way.  

I Wish You Were Here

**may be a tough read**

I saw you at dinner last night.

You sat right next to me in your bright yellow shirt.

It felt like no time had passed. It just felt normal, and right, to be with you.

William had so much fun playing with you. You were as good with him as I'd always dreamed. I hope you don't mind that we didn't tell him who you really are; we thought it'd be too confusing for him. I wasn't prepared to explain why we can only see you at Relay for Life functions.

You accepted Alfredo with more grace than I knew you had. You accepted everything so perfectly.

After dinner when we got home I told Austin it just wasn't right that you had to live all alone, waiting for your next chance just to watch everyone else's lives go on. It wasn't fair that you had to watch It at all. I said I didn't care about the rules or the standards, I just thought we should go pick you up and let you stay with us during the seasons when we are lucky enough to have you.

You and your yellow shirt. Your shirt for those who lost their battle. Your shirt for those who come back to us just for certain occasions.

I got in my car to go back and get you. To invite you to stay in my house.

And then I woke up. Sobbing.

I don't know if it was pregnancy brain, the holidays, or the beast of grief just sneaking up when least expected. But I do know there's not much worse than being afraid to go back to sleep only because you know how much it may hurt to leave your dreams again. I wanted so badly to fall back asleep just to be with him again, and yet I was terrified of being with him and losing him one more time.

16 years and it can still hit me like a ton of bricks. It never goes away does it? I miss him now more than ever, and I'm guessing that will unfortunately be true 16 years from now too.

A Reunion Fit for a Wednesday

I can't really explain why, but Brian has been one of William's favorite people since before he could talk.  

Sometimes I think it's because Brian was present in William's life at a time when he really needed him.  When Brian arrived in Colorado in 2011 William hadn't really interacted with a male in about 3-4 months.  After Austin left we didn't have much free time socially and when we did see people it was usually my girl friends.  William did great with me and great with my friends (and he didn't talk which meant even if he hated every minute of it he couldn't tell me so…ah, the memories)  But when Brian walked through our door for the first time William instantly lit up.  Brian stayed with us for about three weeks while he house-hunted and bought his first house, so the bond continued to build daily.  From then on his entire face and demeanor changed whenever Brian was around.  William and I both began to count down the days and hours until Sundays when Brian would come over for football.  I got a break, and William got some time with his best buddy.  

It's hard for me to really remember, but the first few months of this bond were entirely unspoken.  William had very few words (very VERY hard to remember) and Brian's name was not one of them.  He could say "book" or "more" or "please" or "ball" - beyond that, their interaction was entirely non-verbal.  But it was a special bond that you could see growing and words just somehow weren't necessary.

Once he did start to talk he refused to say Brian's name.  I still don't know why, but I think it became somewhat of a game.  He just never said it!  Then one day in October when we were all in Texas Brian was frustrated and yelled out "Oh GOSH!" in an effort to avoid saying a curse word.  William clued in immediately and yelled "ohhhhhh GOOOOOOSH" and everyone laughed.

That was it.  From then on, he was uncle oh gosh.  William did learn his name - after all, I had referred to him as Brian all that time - but he never calls him Brian.  It's just oh gosh, and that bond has never wavered despite the miles apart. If I could turn back time I would have been sure to have my cell phone ready for their reunion in Texas when we flew down for Thanksgiving.

We had arranged our flights so that we landed about an hour before Brian.  My mom, Alfredo, Brandon, Dana and the kids all got gate passes to go through security and meet us.  Brandon had special "welcome home" shirts made so we all matched and we had our own little welcome home ceremony at the airport.  Welcome home ceremonies are often more special for the families than the soldiers, and if that's true in this case it's just fine with me.  It was wonderful for us all to be able to welcome him home in style like that.  

When Brian FINALLY walked out of the gate William wasted no time - I saw Brian for half a second and then all of a sudden I saw William jumping into his arms.  if you know William you know he's reserved with his affection and he really saves it for special moments.  He doesn't give hugs out like candy on halloween that's for sure.  But he made it into Brian's arms faster than I could even register it happening.  The rest of the week William was living the high life.  He had all of his favorite people in one place - he truly adores all of his grandparents, uncles, his favorite aunt (only one, for now) and his cousins.  But let's be honest - he was living the high life mostly because he had oh gosh there.

Maybe it was the influential stage of his life which built the strong bond.  Or maybe it's just something special they share that's unexplained.  After all, the first time he saw him when he was 9 months old he crawled right up to him and tried to climb up his legs.  Prime stranger-danger time for a baby, and being cautious as he was, he never went up to new people like that.  But he sure seemed to already know and love his uncle.  I don't think I could love watching their bond more than I do.

Now if only his uncle had remembered to say "oh GOSH" over thanksgiving instead of teaching William his first curse word.  Lord, I don't think I've wanted to punch someone (Brian, not William) harder than when I heard that word come out of his sweet little mouth...

William Wednesday

Well, the highlight of the week for me has been watching the swinging pendulum. Translation: currently I outrank Austin in William's order of preference. I will bask in it, because I know it will be fleeting. But for now it feels pretty nice! I get the most cuddles, most hugs, he wants me to take him to school every day, he wants me every night at bed...ok, so it's added work, but I'm ok with that!

He's had a really good week. Last week at this time his teacher had sent a note home asking for a parent teacher conference to discuss his behavior. Being the goody two shoes I am, the thought of a note home from a teacher felt like the whole world crashing down. But, I was able to put that aside and just focus on fixing whatever this behavior issue may be. We couldn't schedule our meeting until Friday, so I called the teacher just to get an idea of what the problem was. Turns out our little ball of energy is always a ball of energy and has trouble calming down for things like circle time or other quiet activities. He does great in his math class and at church, so I don't think it's an attention issue - I think it's a focus and captivation issue. I don't think circle time interests him, for whatever reason, so his personal care is low. We have been working a lot this week with him on his 'jobs' at school. His jobs are to keep his pants clean, keep his hands to himself, listen, and stay calm and focused. We've been reinforcing it and the teachers help remind him - and so far he's been doing great.

This weekend was supposed to be a plan-free no-activities type weekend, but somehow that never pans out. Saturday morning/afternoon Austin and I had a relay committee workshop so William played with some of our friends from church. Then when I picked him up we went up to church to help set up for Sunday's service. We have never helped with setup, but he and I both really enjoyed it and it was amazing to see allthe  work that went into getting it ready for Sunday. (Our church is currently in a high school gym so set up as tear down happens each week. We are hoping to move into our own building in January!!!) William liked helping set up the baby room and he played with baby toys for an hour! Didn't know infant toys were still so captivating :) probably more so now than 3 years ago!

Saturday and Sunday Austin had work all day (besides his attendance at our relay meeting and church) so it was just me and William. Sunday we got some grocery shopping done and some packing. And looooooots of laundry. I had hoped to go get all of our family's Christmas presents to avoid shipping...but, time was not on my side. Guess I'll be paying for shipping later! Oh well.

William is very excited for our trip to Texas this weekend. We leave on Saturday and he has told me every morning since Sunday that it's time to go to the airport. We have a countdown sheet that he marks off every night, so I know he knows, he just wishes every day was THE day. But, before we know it we'll be catching a can at 4:30am to head down south! Look out deer and turkey, William is on his way!

Dear Gary Kubiak

Dear Gary,

I'm writing you a letter on my blog because...well, after 10 weeks of frustration I just can't hold it in anymore. (That bye week was glorious wasn't it?) I have no way of really reaching you, nor do I truly believe you need to hear what I have to say. So, my anonymous blog is all I need to vent and move on.

I'm positive you don't remember me, but we met back in the spring of 2011. You were watching your son's spring ball game at Colorado State and I was there visiting with a high school football player who was talking with the coaches. You stood silently as you watched the game, I assume to be one of the few you are able to see as a professional football coach. And yet, you didn't mind being interrupted by broncos fans and texans fans and people who really couldn't pinpoint how they knew you, but somehow they did. I was one of the people who interrupted your personal time to ask for a picture, and you kindly obliged. You were a very nice man, and we shared gig 'em's as fellow aggies before I went on my way.

I liked you. I liked you before that interaction as you had finally brought a spark to the Texans, and I liked you more after having met you. I liked you all the way up to yesterday, and I like you still.

But I gotta say - you've made it really, really hard.

I know that, as an average fan, I do not know what it takes to play professional sports, coach professional sports, or run a franchise of any sort - much less at that caliber. But I do know about job performance, and yesterday you had me baffled.

I am a tax accountant and I am quite certain that if I turned in 3 tax returns with the equivalent of a 'pick 6' in each one, I would be demoted in my role at work. I'm pretty sure after 2 I would have been on a performance plan. I don't think I would have had a chance to screw up a 4th. I'm also pretty sure that in my first year on the job if I made a mistake equivalent to one interception, I would not be replaced by someone who had done the former. And yet, that's exactly what happened in our QB position. When schaub was throwing points to the other team we were 'standing by our QB in a tough time' but as Keenum learns the game we abandon him when the heat starts to surmount. Where's the support now?

But back to me. My job is to file tax returns timely. Some are harder than others, and I do some to a better degree of excellence than others. It's the nature of life. But essentially, I have one job. If my success rate were the same as Randy Bullock's, I'm fairly certain I would no longer have a job.

Now, these aren't easy things for me to say. I think Matt Schaub did wonderful things for the Texans organization and I think he had a stellar year in 2011. Unfortunately, midway through last season I turned to my husband and said 'I think Matt hit his peak last week. I think that's it'. I supported him, I rooted for his success, and on October 6th I yelled loudly and proudly as he ran onto the field in San Francisco despite the harrassment by less than friendly fans. I was a Schaub supporter. As I am a Bullock supporter. He's an aggie - how could I not be??

But supporting someone doesn't mean you blindly think they're the best for the job. Maybe Case Keenum wasn't going to win the game yesterday, but when I saw Schaub go on the field my confidence (low as it already was) dwindled more. And maybe Case Keenum could never be a Super Bowl willing franchise quarterback, but I know the only way he has a shot is to have the support of his team and coaches behind him. 100%. Not a pouting Matt schaub on the sidelines (as he was during keenum's first start) and not the threat of losing his job when he's just barely earned it.

When I went to the game in San Francisco my eyes were opened to so many things that viewers at home just aren't able to see. A lot of pouting. A lot of missed reads by Schaub. A lot of predictable play calling. A lot of selfish behavior. A lot of dissention among what was once a tight cohesive team.

To sum it up, our most notable franchise player - who made a choice to stick with Houston when winning was but a distant dream - now says 'I'm in a contract, I don't have a choice' in reference to his status as a Texan.

Really? That's what it's come to? Someone, somewhere along the way, has driven Andre Johnson to feel that way about his ball club. And why?

With talent like Andre Johnson, DeAndre Hopkins, Garret Graham and Duane Brown to protect how can we go 2 for 14 on 3rd downs? 

With talent like JJ Watt, Antonio Smith, and almost the entire list of starters in the Bulls on Parade how do we possibly let other teams put up so many points? One of our defensive players once said that all we should ever expect of our offense is 14, maybe 17 points. Anything else proves to be a failure on the defense. Well - how did our stellar defense get to this?

Ben Tate said Houston fans are too wishy washy. Well, he can think what he wants. Fortunately for him, he didn't patiently sit through the agonizing years of 2002-2008 (or 2009? 2010?) as many of his fans did. I'm sure there are wishy washy fans, or bandwagon fans as I prefer to call them. All teams have them. They come out of the wood work when times are good and they're so quick to jump ship when the course is lost. I'm sure there are plenty. But let's be clear: voicing disappointment and frustration is not the same as jumping ship. If I (or the thousands of other Texans faithfuls) was going to abandon the Texans I would have a long time ago. I'd have been a patriots fan for their run at glory, then I would have left them the day tom Brady went down. I would have jumped over to the colts with how electrifying Peyton manning was, and now I'd be wearing orange and blue rooting for Peyton to bring the trophy back to the mile high city.

But I'm not. I'm a sucker for my boys in steel blue (though battle red is my favorite if we're talking uniforms). I'm a texans fan through good and bad, but that doesn't mean I have to pretend the bad doesn't eat away at my heart. No, I'm not wishy washy for being angry. I'm not wishy washy for thinking Schaub had not earned his spot back on the field. I'm not wishy washy for thinking it is absurd that Randy Bullock is still our kicker. I'm a passionate fan who loves her team. I'm a passionate fan who loves to see her team win.

I like you, coach. I am not one of the thousands chanting 'fire kubiak'. I'm not even one of the thousands hoping we go 2-14 to secure the #1 draft pick. I still have childlike faith that our boys can put their heads and hearts together and get us to an 8-8 season. But if that doesn't happen, I want you and the rest of the team to know that there is a difference in wishy washy fans and fans who passionately love the game. If we do go 2-14, and thousands get their wish as you are shown the door, and we do secure the #1 draft pick yet again, I will still be a proud Texan fan. No less proud than I was 4 months ago when all the talk was on a texans/falcons Super Bowl. No less proud, but a lot more frustrated. 

And coach - should that happen, should it come down to worst case scenario - please, please do what you can before you exit to make a spot in the locker room for Johnny Football. It's the least you could do.

Sincerely,

A fellow aggie, one of your loyal fans, and a Texan fan to the end.

Happy Veterans' Day

At the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month we mark Remembrance Day.

A day for us to honor all who have served. I am always very proud of my military family and friends on veterans' day but especially think of those who sacrificed it all. I didn't even know what it meant for them to sacrifice it all until I saw Austin leave his wife and one year son behind, only praying he'd return safely. These men and women truly lay everything down to serve, and it is by God's grace that they may come home.

But this year Austin gave me a new perspective and appreciation. In our small group we've been studying the book of Philippians. Well, we missed all of chapter 1 but were there for the rest. Last week we had a synopsis week - we just went over it all again and we each talked about what spoke to us the most. It's still amazing to me how the words in the bible can mean something completely different to each reader.

Austin said what hit him the most was when Paul talked about being content in all things. In Philippians 4 he mentions that he knows what it means to have everything and he knows what it means to have nothing; he knows what it is to be hungry and he knows what it is to be full. Austin said that struck him so much because he, too, knows what it is to have nothing and to have everything.

He went on to share (yes...Austin...verbally shared. Amazing!) what it was like at times to go days without food or shelter or showers. He said he truly felt he had gone to hell and he had nothing. then the day he came home he suddenly had everything. In all of that he said he had to learn, for mere survival, how to be content despite the circumstances.

What a perspective. Not many people are able to truly see the two extremes and to understand where Paul was coming from, but our service men and women have seen it all and somehow managed to make it through with a servants' heart.

I hope you can take a minute to think of these people who have laid it all down and be thankful. We are fortunate enough to not know what it's like to go hungry, and yet our service members make the choice to step into that on our behalf. They are true heroes, and I'm so lucky to have four of them in my family.

Thank you Brian, Jesse, Chris and Austin for your selfless service. And thank you to the rest of the men and women who have made the same sacrifice.

The Medical Side

I haven't written as much about my 'condition' as I'd hoped to. (Sounds a bit dramatic when described that way don't you think?). But my goal when being translucent (isn't that a step away from transparent?) was to possibly help someone else who may find themselves in my shoes. Or maybe someone will know someone in my shoes and will remember reading some of my Debbie-downer posts and attempt to take a positive spin on them. Either way, I wanted to write today about the scientific side of what I'm going through.

So, I'll start 10 years ago. In 2003 I was a broke college student who read an ad in the school newspaper for a clinical research study for a new acne medicine. Not only did it potentially offer a solution to my long-endured acne trouble, but it also paid $500. All I had to do was have a blood test, take some pills for 3 months and report back.

But, my gravy train ran dry when my initial blood test showed an alarmingly high TSH level in my blood. TSH = thyroid stimulating hormone, and if the level is high it means your hormones are over producing in an effort to stimulate your thyroid, which means your thyroid is under-functioning. Diagnosis: hypothyroidism. Suddenly my severe and sudden weight gain, increased anxiety levels, trouble keeping my body cool (among other symptoms) all made sense.  And once I told people, I learned it is incredibly common for females on both sides of my family, which means I was practically doomed. I began taking synthroid daily, which I'll take the rest of my life, and spent almost 2 years closely monitoring progress to regulate the dosage. In roughly 2005 we settled on a dose and it wasn't increased again until I was pregnant with William. that dose lasted until a few weeks ago.

However, in the time of regulated medicine I went back to the doctor on numerous occasions complaining of my thyroid symptoms. I was gaining weight despite concentrated efforts to lose. My nails were brittle. My hair was falling out rapidly. I was always very hot or very cold, never comfortable. And yet, each time I went I heard back in a few days letting me know my levels were fine.

It was infuriating! I knew these things weren't right and yet my blood results indicated I was fine. I wasn't fine. Last December when my doctor said it was fine I insisted she take more blood and test more indicators (T4, T3, and another that slipped my mind) because I had read in a book sometimes TSH can be fine while these other thyroid hormones are not. So she did, and she found they were just as peachy as the TSH.

I threw my hands in the air in frustration and then quickly found myself in the thick of tax season. Impossible to focus on tiny health issues between January and April, I vowed to revisit the issue after April 15.

So, in April I was referred to my fertility doctor (who I adore) and before doing any testing he went over medical history with me. We discussed my thyroid and other health history and then he went into detail explaining what he anticipated would be the findings of the day: PCOS. He explained what an ovary looks like in a person with PCOS, he explained symptoms related to PCOS and went over treatments. A few minutes later when he did an ultrasound my ovary appeared on the screen and it looked identical to the picture he drew in his office. I was amazed.

I was more amazed, though, to find out that the symptoms I had always associated with my thyroid were also possible symptoms of PCOS. He speculated that I had PCOS that whole time and that it likely developed around the time my hypothyroidism developed. But, because my doctors and I were always so focused on my thyroid nobody seemed to notice the rebel ovaries down there. The majority of my complaints arose in times when I was not on birth control, and birth control is a way of regulating PCOS so it is theorized that when not on birth control my PCOS ramped up, causing my symptoms to flare while my thyroid remained constant.

While it was frustrating to know that my doctor may have been able to find the root of not only my weight gain but also my infertility last December, it was also so freeing to finally have an explanation and understanding of it all. Knowing is half the battle, and it felt so good to finally know.

I think I've mentioned that this only reinforces how much of a miracle William is. I already knew, but this just reminded me that God had a perfect plan for William. He knew the issues inside my body and he knew when he wanted William born. He orchestrated all of the events for the miracle of life to transpire, and it couldn't be more apparent to me. This also offers reassurance that God has his hand in all of this now as well, and His plan is pure and perfect and we will all stand in awe of his power grace in the end.