Most of these thoughts are based on the notes from a talk I gave in May. I want to write frankly about a topic that I have become passionate about.
"Life is beautiful"
In college I had a friend and roommate named Matt. He would get up every month in front of our Christian congregation and during a brief thought, he'd grab the pulpit with both hands, grin from ear to ear and beyond, and exclaim, "Brothers and sisters, life is beautiful". He did it when life was easy and when life was hard.
"He Loves You No Matter What"
I will echo Matt's thought, "Life is beautiful". I think that often we have no clue just how much God loves us. He loves us when we are sick or healthy, when we are sad or happy. When we have good hair days and bad. When our clothes fit just right and even when they don't. He loves you no matter the language you speak, the clothes you wear or don't wear. Most importantly, He loves you the same when you keep his commandments or not. His love for you never changes. It is always there. Infinite. Eternal. Only equaled by our own divine potential.
Life is a Test
Because of His eternal love He understands that life needs to be hard. This life is a grand test after all, to see where we want to end up. Ultimately, we will go where we are most comfortable, be it in the presence of God or far from it because no unclean thing can dwell in the presence of God.
So in this great test of ours is it any wonder that we experience trials? Job loss? Death? Bullying? Illnesses of the body. Illnesses of the mind. Illnesses of the heart.
It is of the illnesses of the mind and heart I want to address as clearly as I can.
"You Don't Deserve This"
You don't deserve this. This is not some horrible punishment or curse that came upon you. God is not punishing you. He is purifying you. He loves you. Jesus Christ understands perfectly what you are going through, that Man of Sorrow, acquainted with Grief. He suffered all sin. He suffered all sorrow. He did what He did because Christ knew you would need him today. You would need someone to understand. So when you need someone to lean on, lean on Him.
"There is Always Hope"
I am here to tell you that there is hope. There is always hope. I have seen miracles happen. What was once pain and darkness was lifted in a moment to become peace, and light. There is always hope. Recognize the miracles in your life. Sometimes God calms the storm. Sometimes God helps us weather the storm. We can't command God any more than an ant could compel us. And if your miracle seemingly never comes. Then endure it well. The Savior Himself asked for the bitter cup to be taken from Him, yet He partook. This may be your Gethsemane, your Golgotha, but it will end and peace will fill your heart again.
Accept the Miracle You Need
If you struggle with depression, anxiety, or some other mental illness, get medical help. Who are you to say that medical advances in this field are not the very miracle that God has prepared for you? When Naaman, mighty man of valor, captain of the hosts of Syria, and leper, sought healing, the message came to bathe in the River Jordan. He almost didn't because of the simplicity of the task. After all, how could some great miracle happen by so simple a solution? Luckily for him he listened to a friend's advice. He went and bathed in the simple waters and received his mighty miracle.
So pray and plead for miracles but accept the medical help you need. It is a lie of the Devil that a mental illness means you are somehow broken, somehow less of a person. It is a lie of the Enemy of Life that you should be ashamed, that perhaps by getting some exercise, by reading a self-help book, by some forced smiles and positive thinking you will be alright. We can no more expect to cure depression with simple positive thinking than we can expect to cure cancer with the same. There is no shame in getting help. So do it. It may save your life.
If you had a broken leg, no one would expect you to run a marathon. If you have depression and anxiety, take off the plate the things that matter least so you have the health to handle the things that matter most. Then rest your body and your mind as best you may. There is a strong correlation between sleep and sanity.
"Put On Your Own Oxygen Mask"
To those that may not be currently suffering from mental illness. I plead with you to have compassion on them. To those of you who may be the caregivers. I pray you will have patience.
This darkness of the mind heightens stress, negativity, and those suffering with such an illness may lash out at you in anger. They may lay the blame of all the troubles of the world at your very feet. I pray you are able to discern the truth, that they are sick and that you can make a difference. But before you can make a difference you need to, just like every flight attendant has ever said, "put on your own oxygen mask". Make sure you are doing what you need to to remain healthy of body and mind so when your loved one yells at you and so adeptly points out all your flaws, that you respond not with anger, but with humility and with love. It is always far more important that they know you love them than they know you are right. I pray God will strengthen your shoulders to bear the burdens placed upon them.
"The Light Will Shine Again"
I know that there is a God, that He is our Heavenly Father, and that He sent His Son, Jesus Christ to suffer for all our sins and sorrow. I know that God is at all times our loving Father in Heaven. That He loves us no matter what. God will never give up on you.
I know there is always hope and that the long dark night of our trials will end. Death is not the end. The light will shine again in our lives and hearts.
I'm going to channel my inner Matt. "Brothers and Sisters, Life. Is. Beautiful." God lives. God loves you. Don't believe Satan's lies. Have hope. Have compassion. We can conquer this. Let's do it together. Because no matter how lost you may feel, we are never alone.
Saturday, July 1, 2017
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Confessions of An HG Husband: The Darkness Does Pass
I believe in Angels.
No, not the kind with wings that have super powers and fight demons with super powers. I believe in those awesome beings who do God's work, spread joy, peace, love, comfort and support upon the face of this earth.
In the hour of need.
I've shared before how when my wife was pregnant with our daughter and had hyperemesis gavidarum the first time around I had H1N1 (swine flu, remember that?), my son had it and Carrie had HG. While on the way to the hospital, wondering how I was going to take care of everything an angel came to our rescue. Right then a woman from our church called my cell and asked if we needed anything. She took my son and cared for him so I could spend hours and hours in the hospital with Carrie.
That was just one of the tiny miracles I experienced during the pregnancy of our first daughter. During the pregnancy with our second daughter there have been many more miracles.
Meals have poured in. Frozen meals I can thaw and cook when I need something. Hot meals, chicken noodle soup, enchiladas, prime rib, chicken and rice casserole and more. We have had a neighbor clear the sidewalk with a shovel, we have had another clear the driveway with a snow blower.
There have been moments when I needed to try and get some sleep between Carrie's IV's, working graves and caring for kids. Angels without complaint or question gladly took my little Lydia so I could rest.
No, not the kind with wings that have super powers and fight demons with super powers. I believe in those awesome beings who do God's work, spread joy, peace, love, comfort and support upon the face of this earth.
In the hour of need.
I've shared before how when my wife was pregnant with our daughter and had hyperemesis gavidarum the first time around I had H1N1 (swine flu, remember that?), my son had it and Carrie had HG. While on the way to the hospital, wondering how I was going to take care of everything an angel came to our rescue. Right then a woman from our church called my cell and asked if we needed anything. She took my son and cared for him so I could spend hours and hours in the hospital with Carrie.
That was just one of the tiny miracles I experienced during the pregnancy of our first daughter. During the pregnancy with our second daughter there have been many more miracles.
Meals have poured in. Frozen meals I can thaw and cook when I need something. Hot meals, chicken noodle soup, enchiladas, prime rib, chicken and rice casserole and more. We have had a neighbor clear the sidewalk with a shovel, we have had another clear the driveway with a snow blower.
There have been moments when I needed to try and get some sleep between Carrie's IV's, working graves and caring for kids. Angels without complaint or question gladly took my little Lydia so I could rest.
During the bitterly horrible pregnancy there were so many angels to lift us up. My Mom would take Lydia for the day and get Tyler out the door to school. Often she was in obvious pain but did it anyway. We later learned she had a condition that can be extremely painful when it flares up.
My Mother-in-law shouldered so much. She practically became the kids' mother during the worst of the hyperemesis. I look back now and I don't think I would have been able to mentally handle it all without the help of my two moms. For some people "I don't think I would have been able to handle it" is an expressive saying. For me, it was a harsh and cruel reality. Angels saved me.
What is an angel if not a messenger from the Divine? What better messenger than the one that lifts, strengthens those who are too weak to go it alone or comforts someone even though they can't fix the problem.
The Brightest Star
During Christmas time the women's organization at my church asked if I would narrate a story for their Christmas party. Of course I would. I practiced and sob that I am, couldn't make it through the story without crying. It was so silly. It was just a little book. In the story an old man without a family travels to Bethlehem, he encounters Joseph and the pregnant Mary. He also can't find a room in an inn, he can't find food, he is cold and alone. Yet bit by bit, through the kindness and sacrifice of strangers, he is fed, comforted and eventually finds shelter in an already occupied manger. There he becomes one of the first to hold the Christ Child. I guess I wept because in some way I felt like that man. I knew where I was headed. I knew the journey would end but I couldn't do it on my own. I hated that I couldn't do it on my own. I felt like I should have been able to. I shouldn't have been so weak. I should have been able to handle it all just fine. But reality is harsh and it is wise to see our own limitations and reading that little story gave me hope. For me that silly little book and the story it told were a miracle. A message God needed me to hear and understand.
Somehow during that actual program I managed to read the story for the first time without crying.
The Miracle of Prayer
Through the months that Carrie lay in bed suffering we felt lifted up by the love of others. I know that at one time there were people praying for us on at lest four continents. There is such a unifying power in such a prayer. I cannot prove anything tangible but I tell you I felt it and those prayers lifted me up. In those moments when Carrie would utter a whisper-plea to me, to anyone and to Heaven, "please, please, please" I found strength in knowing her pleas were not alone.
The Miracle That Has Blessed Our Life
I don't get much sleep these days because our little princess thinks she should be up until 4AM. It's not hard to hold her close and count the blessings instead of sheep. She is beautiful. She is healthy. She is ours.
I've been thinking about this battle with HG. It could have killed my beautiful Carrie. But it didn't.
I love my Carrie for having the courage to survive HG again, for knowing what she faced and being willing to get pregnant again when we felt like there was one more princess waiting for us in heaven.
Someone asked me on my blog how my wife could put me through this. The question shocked me, but only because this is something we decided together, this is something we wanted together, this is something we survived together and this is something that has brought us closer. Closer to each other and closer to the incredible people around us.
We don't shy away from hard things just because they might be difficult. We do them because we knew our lives will be changed for the better, forever. Our baby Kate is living proof of that.
My Mother-in-law shouldered so much. She practically became the kids' mother during the worst of the hyperemesis. I look back now and I don't think I would have been able to mentally handle it all without the help of my two moms. For some people "I don't think I would have been able to handle it" is an expressive saying. For me, it was a harsh and cruel reality. Angels saved me.
What is an angel if not a messenger from the Divine? What better messenger than the one that lifts, strengthens those who are too weak to go it alone or comforts someone even though they can't fix the problem.
The Brightest Star
During Christmas time the women's organization at my church asked if I would narrate a story for their Christmas party. Of course I would. I practiced and sob that I am, couldn't make it through the story without crying. It was so silly. It was just a little book. In the story an old man without a family travels to Bethlehem, he encounters Joseph and the pregnant Mary. He also can't find a room in an inn, he can't find food, he is cold and alone. Yet bit by bit, through the kindness and sacrifice of strangers, he is fed, comforted and eventually finds shelter in an already occupied manger. There he becomes one of the first to hold the Christ Child. I guess I wept because in some way I felt like that man. I knew where I was headed. I knew the journey would end but I couldn't do it on my own. I hated that I couldn't do it on my own. I felt like I should have been able to. I shouldn't have been so weak. I should have been able to handle it all just fine. But reality is harsh and it is wise to see our own limitations and reading that little story gave me hope. For me that silly little book and the story it told were a miracle. A message God needed me to hear and understand.
Somehow during that actual program I managed to read the story for the first time without crying.
The Miracle of Prayer
Through the months that Carrie lay in bed suffering we felt lifted up by the love of others. I know that at one time there were people praying for us on at lest four continents. There is such a unifying power in such a prayer. I cannot prove anything tangible but I tell you I felt it and those prayers lifted me up. In those moments when Carrie would utter a whisper-plea to me, to anyone and to Heaven, "please, please, please" I found strength in knowing her pleas were not alone.
The Miracle That Has Blessed Our Life
I don't get much sleep these days because our little princess thinks she should be up until 4AM. It's not hard to hold her close and count the blessings instead of sheep. She is beautiful. She is healthy. She is ours.
I've been thinking about this battle with HG. It could have killed my beautiful Carrie. But it didn't.
I love my Carrie for having the courage to survive HG again, for knowing what she faced and being willing to get pregnant again when we felt like there was one more princess waiting for us in heaven.
Someone asked me on my blog how my wife could put me through this. The question shocked me, but only because this is something we decided together, this is something we wanted together, this is something we survived together and this is something that has brought us closer. Closer to each other and closer to the incredible people around us.
We don't shy away from hard things just because they might be difficult. We do them because we knew our lives will be changed for the better, forever. Our baby Kate is living proof of that.
Friday, December 13, 2013
Confessions of a HG Husband: When Will This End?
I call every week to get Carrie's order from our favorite take-out place. No, not chinese, pizza or anything else so tasty. I get drinks delivered. They come in 1 liter bags, 10 mL syringes and small vials filled with phenergram and vitamins. The pharmacist knows me by voice. She knows my bizarre sleeping schedule. I don't even know my sleeping schedule.
I go anywhere and do anything to help the love of my life feel better. Target. Walmart. Cafe Rio. Jamba Juice. Kneaders. Pizza. Indian Food. Make a shepherds pie. Go to that other grocery store. Pickles. A specific kind of ice cream. That store doesn't sell the yogurt she likes, go to the other store. I'm not complaining, not at all, because as least she is eating, at least she is drinking, at least the retching is mostly over.
She's doing okay. By okay I mean, she's not throwing up, she's not asking to be put out of her misery. She talks, sometimes we even chat. She had a rough week though. There were a few days when she refused to eat, "I just want to feel better".
Sunday mornings have to be the worst part of the week. I try to get my Carrie medicine, get the kids fed and dressed and myself at least decently dressed all before church starts. There was this one Sunday the kids didn't fight, they didn't destroy their rooms in the few minutes it took to give Carrie her medicine and they didn't dump breakfast out all over the kitchen. Tyler got himself dressed. Lydia didn't argue about the cloths I put on her and I somehow had a clean, unwrinkled white shirt. We were only 2 minutes late. I was saying prayers of gratitude the rest of the day.
She wanted to be well by Thanksgiving. She wasn't. She wanted to go to Thanksgiving dinner with us. She wasn't well enough. Instead, I gave her medicine, I got the kids ready, and left my beautiful, pregnant wife home alone on Thanksgiving. I bought a turkey. I offered to make it for her. She said no. It is still sitting in the deep freezer. I ditched her and brought her left-overs. I'm a real prince aren't I?
Like I said, Carrie was hoping to be well by Thanksgiving, I was thinking more along the lines of Christmas or New Years. The reality is, we have NO IDEA. The only sure thing is that it will at least end sometime around May because that is when baby is due.
Seriously, when will this end?
I go anywhere and do anything to help the love of my life feel better. Target. Walmart. Cafe Rio. Jamba Juice. Kneaders. Pizza. Indian Food. Make a shepherds pie. Go to that other grocery store. Pickles. A specific kind of ice cream. That store doesn't sell the yogurt she likes, go to the other store. I'm not complaining, not at all, because as least she is eating, at least she is drinking, at least the retching is mostly over.
She's doing okay. By okay I mean, she's not throwing up, she's not asking to be put out of her misery. She talks, sometimes we even chat. She had a rough week though. There were a few days when she refused to eat, "I just want to feel better".
Sunday mornings have to be the worst part of the week. I try to get my Carrie medicine, get the kids fed and dressed and myself at least decently dressed all before church starts. There was this one Sunday the kids didn't fight, they didn't destroy their rooms in the few minutes it took to give Carrie her medicine and they didn't dump breakfast out all over the kitchen. Tyler got himself dressed. Lydia didn't argue about the cloths I put on her and I somehow had a clean, unwrinkled white shirt. We were only 2 minutes late. I was saying prayers of gratitude the rest of the day.
She wanted to be well by Thanksgiving. She wasn't. She wanted to go to Thanksgiving dinner with us. She wasn't well enough. Instead, I gave her medicine, I got the kids ready, and left my beautiful, pregnant wife home alone on Thanksgiving. I bought a turkey. I offered to make it for her. She said no. It is still sitting in the deep freezer. I ditched her and brought her left-overs. I'm a real prince aren't I?
Like I said, Carrie was hoping to be well by Thanksgiving, I was thinking more along the lines of Christmas or New Years. The reality is, we have NO IDEA. The only sure thing is that it will at least end sometime around May because that is when baby is due.
Seriously, when will this end?
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Bottoms Up: Confessions of an HG Husband
8:25 AM
Home from work. I've been up since 5PM the day before. I give my children hugs and kisses. Tyler leaves for school minutes later. Lydia goes with her Grandma. I start Carrie's morning IV. I mix phenergan with saline in a syringe. Push 10 ml of saline solution through her PICC. Now the phenergan for the next 5 minutes. I go slow. Careful. It's over. Time for 10 ml more of saline. Then the IV. I make her food. I eat. I wait.
10:00 AM
I check her IV. Half has drained into her body. She's cold. I cover her with more blankets and kiss her softly. She closes her eyes. I wait.
10:30 AM
I check her IV. Is it finished? Almost. I wait and watch. She is sleeping now. She's not in pain. She's not nauseous. She's peaceful. It will come back when she wakes up. The IV is finished. I clamp her PICC and unscrew the IV tubing. I wipe down the end of the PICC with alcohol. I push more saline and heparin now. I try not to wake her, to let her sleep, to let her be peaceful. I fail. She sits up. She throws up. She doesn't want me near. She doesn't want me to hold her hair. She doesn't want me to be grossed out. I leave the room. I try not to think about all the things I can't do. I distract myself. Food? Cleaning up the IV and medicine? Reading through material "try this if you have morning sickness". She's finished. I return to help her sleep. I try to get her food. I know she needs her energy. I make plates, syran wrap them so they keep and save. I ask if she needs anything. She lays down. I tuck her in. I leave her alone so I can sleep.
10:45 AM
I lay down. A couch, Tyler's bed, the floor. It doesn't matter. I sleep.
1:00 PM
I'm awake. Carrie's still sleeping. I get ready. The kids are coming. Tyler from school, Lydia from grandma's house.
2:00 PM
The kids are home. I give Carrie medicine. I push more saline. I push more phenergan. Again I go slow, careful. Push, 1.. 2... 3.. 4.. 5.. 6.. 7.. 8.. 9.. 10... push. Just a little at a time. More saline and more heparin, more questions of "can I get you anything?" The medicine makes her loopy. The medicine makes her drowsy. She sleeps.
3:00 PM
I take the kids to the park. They are happy to run around. They are happy to get out. I take my camera. Carrie will want to see this. Lydia runs. She falls down. She calls for me and I scoop her up. I kiss it better. She smiles. She wants a drink. Tyler runs straight for the merry-go-round. He hops on. It goes fast. He lifts his legs up and starts to fly. Lydia wants to swing. "Higher Dada." Tyler runs around. His arms are out. I know he is an airplane. He runs so fast. He goes back to the merry-go-round. "Faster," he calls. Lydia is done with the swing. "Help me Dada". I lift her up so she can go down the slide. Again. Again. Two more times. She explores. Tyler spins in circles. I capture what I can with my camera. Carrie will want to see this.
4:30 PM
It's time to go. I chase the kids. I warn the kids. I hug the kids. They come. Lydia holds my hand. Tyler asks questions about everything. I answer. He asks more things. We see a quinceanera party. Lydia asks, "Dada, is she a princess?" Yes. I ask he if she knows who my princess is. "Lydia is and mama is." I smile and she squeezes me tight. "You are a prince Dada!" She says it with such excitement. Tyler has a stick. He swings it. "It sounds like a whip Dada." He's right. "Do you know I like sticks Dada?" I do but we have to leave the stick at the park so other kids can play with it. I take them to Pace's and order them small slushes. They both order Tiger's Blood. Tyler because he likes it and Lydia because Tyler ordered it.
5:00 PM
We're home. Carrie is still asleep. I make the kids PBJ's. It's what they wanted. I make them eat their sandwiches before they can drink their slushes. We chat. I learn about school. I learn about recess. "And Dada did you know I can run SO FAST?" Wow Lydia. They finish.
6:00 PM
They're tired. I bathe them. I dry them off. I brush Lydia's hair. I help them brush their teeth. I trim their fingernails. I pray with them. I read them stories. They snuggle on my lap. They love me. I scoop up Lydia. I rock her. I sing to her. I lay her down. "Dada, did you know I love you SO much!" I love you so much Lydia. I turn on Dada's songs for her, close the door and leave. "Wait Dada, blow me a kiss." I do. She catches it and rubs it in. She blows me a kiss. "Catch it." "Rub it in." I smile and obey. I close the door. I talk with Tyler. He has a lot more to say. I give him a hug. I kiss his forehead. I tuck him in. I turn on "Tyler The Wizard Boy Stories". I open the door just right. I turn on the correct lights. I tell him I love him. He loves me too.
6:30 PM
I check on Carrie. She needs something to eat. "What would you like?" She makes a face. I bring her food. A creamie, yogurt, my mom's homemade mac'n'cheese. She eats.
7:00 PM
Both kids are asleep. They were tired. I leave to go shopping. Milk. Eggs. Juice. Where is the Unisom? Carrie texts. She wants a jamba juice. Mango a go go. I'm relieved. She wants food. I rent a redbox. An action movie.
8:30 PM
I'm home with her jamba juice. I get her evening IV read. Open the needled syringe, draw out the first mutli-vitamin. Draw out the second multi-vitamin. Push it into the IV bag. Draw out the phenergan. Shake. Push saline. Push phenergan. Again I go slow. Again I count. Five minutes. More saline. I connect the IV bag. I fold laundry. I wait.
11:00 PM
The IV is finished. I push more saline and more heparin into her PICC. She sleeps. I cook a frozen meal a neighbor brought over. I eat. I sit to watch my movie. I blink. I missed much of the movie. I'll finish it some other time. I blink again and fall asleep.
12:30 AM
I wake up. I crawl into bed. Tyler's bed. He is sleeping on the "little matress". We're having a "sleep over". He's still asleep. I turn my phone up so I can hear if Carrie calls. She calls if she needs me. She doesn't call.
Sometime in the night
Tyler wakes me up. He needs to go to the bathroom. He goes to the bathroom. I tuck him in. I kiss his forehead. We go back to sleep.
I Try.
I often fail. I'm not perfect.
"If you are the one afflicted or a caregiver to such, try not to be overwhelmed with the size of your task. Don’t assume you can fix everything, but fix what you can. If those are only small victories, be grateful for them and be patient. Dozens of times in the scriptures, the Lord commands someone to “stand still” or “be still”—and wait.6 Patiently enduring some things is part of our mortal education."
"For caregivers, in your devoted effort to assist with another’s health, do not destroy your own. In all these things be wise. Do not run faster than you have strength.7 Whatever else you may or may not be able to provide, you can offer your prayers and you can give “love unfeigned.”8 “Charity suffereth long, and is kind; … [it] beareth all things, … hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth.”9
I Pray. I Plead. I Drink It Up.
"Hope is never lost. If those miracles do not come soon or fully or seemingly at all, remember the Savior’s own anguished example: if the bitter cup does not pass, drink it and be strong, trusting in happier days ahead." - Elder Jeffrey R. Holland
Sunday, October 6, 2013
How am I doing? Confessions of a HG Husband
Simple Request
Read to the end, it's long, I know but just do. In case you haven't heard Carrie is pregnant and she has hyperemesis gravidarum. I explained what that is in a previous post.
How are you doing?
Short answer: I'm fine.
You Wanted the Long Answer?
It doesn't make sense to me. All I have to do is work graves, give Carrie her medicine and take care of her as well as take care of the kids in the evening and put them into bed. It shouldn't be that difficult. So why is it?
This Week
This week I would get home at about 8:20, see Tyler for a few minutes before he catches the bus, spend a few minutes with Lydia and then watch her leave with one of her two blessed grandmas. I'd then get the AM IV going and try to sleep a bit before waking up a few hours later to finish the IV. I'd then try to get some more sleep before 5PM. The kids then come home and I feed them, spend a little time with them, bathe them and put them to bed. Then I do the evening IV and try to get some sleep. As soon as the evening IV is done, I leave for work. The longest stretch I slept was for four sweet hours. When I do sleep I'm not sleeping very well. It is like I never fully get to sleep anymore. Usually I can fall asleep in 5 seconds flat now it feels like 5 hours flat which isn't good considering how frequently I have to wake up.
Grateful and Guilty
It's hard dropping my kids off with my parents or my in-laws. Not because they won't be loved and well taken care of, but because I should be able to take care of them. I'm a grown man. They're my kids. I should be the one breaking up the fights, playing with them, doing homework with them, greeting them as they get home from school, taking them to dance and putting them down for naps. But I'm not. For that I feel so grateful and yet still so guilty.
Why am I so Overwhelmed?
I only have two kids. I only have one job. I only have one wife. There's the cat and she can be a little much, always wanting me to pet her, smashing her face into my leg, wanting to be fed twice a day.
I even withdrew from school for a little while so I don't have that to worry about. The grandmas take the kids during the day and sometimes longer. I've even gotten help from friends. Even more friends are helping to feed our family. Seriously we've had some wonderful meals delivered by even more wonderful people. So why am I so overwhelmed?
My Flip Flops Don't Match
I was spending some time with Lydia when she kindly pointed out my flip flops didn't match. It was painfully obvious even to a 3 year old and I only noticed when she pointed it out. Sure enough I had on one bright blue one and one brown one.
I did laundry. Sort of. I put it in the washer. I put it in the dryer. It is now sitting in the cloths bin. I've been meaning to fold it since Tuesday (it is now technically Sunday). I don't want anyone else to do it because I can do it.
People may see my house and think it is a disaster but I am doing the best I can and you know what, if cycling the laundry through and leaving it unfolded in a basket for the next month is how I do laundry, people are just going to have to get over it.
I vacuumed too. You can't tell now because while I was doing a morning IV the kids decided they wanted to crumble frosted mini wheat all over the rug.
I washed down the table but only because Lydia spilled the flower vase and Tyler spilled a VERY full glass of milk.
A Dark Place
I debated sharing this and only do it because maybe it will help someone. There was a night when I was trying to get a major project done for a macro economics class. I had to go to work in a few hours. Carrie looked like she was dying and needed to go to the emergency room. And did I mention my grandma had just died? I needed to do it all. I couldn't give up on my dream. I couldn't leave my wife. I had to go to work. This project needed to get done and I wasn't understanding it and would need to spend several more hours before I did understand it. I was so tired. I had slept for about six hours total the previous two days. I had to hyper focus, I had to compartmentalize. I had to check the boxes but there were too many boxes. I needed five minutes to just breathe but I didn't have five minutes. I didn't have five seconds.
I panicked.
I could not think.
I could not act.
I was shutting down in body and in mind.
I prayed.
I acted.
I made a decision.
I put my dream on hold.
I will not graduate as early as I had hoped but I will still earn an MBA. For now all I can handle are Faith, Family and Work and I barely handle that. It felt like I was giving up, like I was a quitter, like everyone would look at me and think "there's the guy that couldn't handle it just because his wife got sick". Still I have made my decision. I will finish school but for now the plan has changed.
Whispers of Thought
I was upstairs trying to sleep on my couch when I got the thought: check on Carrie. So I did. She needed me. She needed my help. I don't remember with what but that is because this is not a singular experience. "Check on Carrie" has come into my mind on numerous occasions over the past several days. Each time there is a reason. Each time she had needed something. I tell you that there is a God and he knows what we need. There is no other explanation for it.
Help Me, Help Me
As I mentioned before, Carrie frequently says "help me, help me". She's not necessarily talking to me.
Friday night at 7:00 I checked Carrie's phone (btw don't call her, call me). There was a message from the pharmacist to call by 6pm if we needed more IV supplies. We did. It was too late. The on call nurse called Saturday, I asked for more supplies which got a process rolling. The pharmacist called me and said they tried to call Friday, now she has to pull in 3 people on a Saturday. They left a message even. I explained Carrie doesn't talk on the phone right now, I asked her to call my phone from now on. The pharmacist asked me about what supplies I needed and as I talked with this woman she softened. Have you tried this? This? This? She spent half an hour on the phone with me. That wonderful woman then called our doctor and arranged some changes. She called and texted several more times. "I just thought of this, you should try this..." She was on call and went in to work, spending 4 hours getting Carrie's medicine ready. She later texted me and wrote, "If she would have called yesterday none of this would have happened in the madness of Friday, so I am glad it worked out, and hope she feels better soon." It hasn't been very long but already it seems to be helping a little.
The Divinity Within Us
People have brought meals. They've watched Lydia, made her feel like a princess, an artist and a super hero. They've picked Tyler up from school, done homework with him. There are so many people who have offered to help. Who have asked for ways they can help, that it is impossible not to see the hand of God in this. I pray He blesses you wonderful, beautiful people. You are our angels.
Little Angels
Tyler and Lydia over the last few days have provided me a gift. Tyler put Mr. Potato heads on a stuffed animal and brought it to me. He made funny voices and so I scooped him up and snuggled him. "There, now you can smile again Dada." He has done this a few more times. So had Lydia. Same glasses, different stuffed animal and an incredible amount of love. This is why we are doing this.
Lift up, With Wings of Eagles
In my moments of desperation I have turned to the Lord again and again. He truly does hear me. Not always does he solve the problems before me, sometimes he takes the burden away and sometimes he makes me stronger so I can more easily shoulder the weight. To have my heart feel light, to feel the surge that it can be done, to have clarity of thought is a great gift that God gives to His children. I have experienced that lifting up. Critics of religion call faith a crutch that allows people to hobble through their adversity in life. They have it wrong. My faith is a set of wings that allows me to rise up and be better than I can be on my own.
I pray you may feel God's love for you as I have.
Long Answer Short
Life is a trial, it was meant to be, but we have our family, we have our faith and we are so, so very blessed.
Read to the end, it's long, I know but just do. In case you haven't heard Carrie is pregnant and she has hyperemesis gravidarum. I explained what that is in a previous post.
How are you doing?
Short answer: I'm fine.
You Wanted the Long Answer?
It doesn't make sense to me. All I have to do is work graves, give Carrie her medicine and take care of her as well as take care of the kids in the evening and put them into bed. It shouldn't be that difficult. So why is it?
This Week
This week I would get home at about 8:20, see Tyler for a few minutes before he catches the bus, spend a few minutes with Lydia and then watch her leave with one of her two blessed grandmas. I'd then get the AM IV going and try to sleep a bit before waking up a few hours later to finish the IV. I'd then try to get some more sleep before 5PM. The kids then come home and I feed them, spend a little time with them, bathe them and put them to bed. Then I do the evening IV and try to get some sleep. As soon as the evening IV is done, I leave for work. The longest stretch I slept was for four sweet hours. When I do sleep I'm not sleeping very well. It is like I never fully get to sleep anymore. Usually I can fall asleep in 5 seconds flat now it feels like 5 hours flat which isn't good considering how frequently I have to wake up.
Grateful and Guilty
It's hard dropping my kids off with my parents or my in-laws. Not because they won't be loved and well taken care of, but because I should be able to take care of them. I'm a grown man. They're my kids. I should be the one breaking up the fights, playing with them, doing homework with them, greeting them as they get home from school, taking them to dance and putting them down for naps. But I'm not. For that I feel so grateful and yet still so guilty.
Why am I so Overwhelmed?
I only have two kids. I only have one job. I only have one wife. There's the cat and she can be a little much, always wanting me to pet her, smashing her face into my leg, wanting to be fed twice a day.
I even withdrew from school for a little while so I don't have that to worry about. The grandmas take the kids during the day and sometimes longer. I've even gotten help from friends. Even more friends are helping to feed our family. Seriously we've had some wonderful meals delivered by even more wonderful people. So why am I so overwhelmed?
My Flip Flops Don't Match
I was spending some time with Lydia when she kindly pointed out my flip flops didn't match. It was painfully obvious even to a 3 year old and I only noticed when she pointed it out. Sure enough I had on one bright blue one and one brown one.
I did laundry. Sort of. I put it in the washer. I put it in the dryer. It is now sitting in the cloths bin. I've been meaning to fold it since Tuesday (it is now technically Sunday). I don't want anyone else to do it because I can do it.
People may see my house and think it is a disaster but I am doing the best I can and you know what, if cycling the laundry through and leaving it unfolded in a basket for the next month is how I do laundry, people are just going to have to get over it.
I vacuumed too. You can't tell now because while I was doing a morning IV the kids decided they wanted to crumble frosted mini wheat all over the rug.
I washed down the table but only because Lydia spilled the flower vase and Tyler spilled a VERY full glass of milk.
A Dark Place
I debated sharing this and only do it because maybe it will help someone. There was a night when I was trying to get a major project done for a macro economics class. I had to go to work in a few hours. Carrie looked like she was dying and needed to go to the emergency room. And did I mention my grandma had just died? I needed to do it all. I couldn't give up on my dream. I couldn't leave my wife. I had to go to work. This project needed to get done and I wasn't understanding it and would need to spend several more hours before I did understand it. I was so tired. I had slept for about six hours total the previous two days. I had to hyper focus, I had to compartmentalize. I had to check the boxes but there were too many boxes. I needed five minutes to just breathe but I didn't have five minutes. I didn't have five seconds.
I panicked.
I could not think.
I could not act.
I was shutting down in body and in mind.
I prayed.
I acted.
I made a decision.
I put my dream on hold.
I will not graduate as early as I had hoped but I will still earn an MBA. For now all I can handle are Faith, Family and Work and I barely handle that. It felt like I was giving up, like I was a quitter, like everyone would look at me and think "there's the guy that couldn't handle it just because his wife got sick". Still I have made my decision. I will finish school but for now the plan has changed.
Whispers of Thought
I was upstairs trying to sleep on my couch when I got the thought: check on Carrie. So I did. She needed me. She needed my help. I don't remember with what but that is because this is not a singular experience. "Check on Carrie" has come into my mind on numerous occasions over the past several days. Each time there is a reason. Each time she had needed something. I tell you that there is a God and he knows what we need. There is no other explanation for it.
Help Me, Help Me
As I mentioned before, Carrie frequently says "help me, help me". She's not necessarily talking to me.
Friday night at 7:00 I checked Carrie's phone (btw don't call her, call me). There was a message from the pharmacist to call by 6pm if we needed more IV supplies. We did. It was too late. The on call nurse called Saturday, I asked for more supplies which got a process rolling. The pharmacist called me and said they tried to call Friday, now she has to pull in 3 people on a Saturday. They left a message even. I explained Carrie doesn't talk on the phone right now, I asked her to call my phone from now on. The pharmacist asked me about what supplies I needed and as I talked with this woman she softened. Have you tried this? This? This? She spent half an hour on the phone with me. That wonderful woman then called our doctor and arranged some changes. She called and texted several more times. "I just thought of this, you should try this..." She was on call and went in to work, spending 4 hours getting Carrie's medicine ready. She later texted me and wrote, "If she would have called yesterday none of this would have happened in the madness of Friday, so I am glad it worked out, and hope she feels better soon." It hasn't been very long but already it seems to be helping a little.
The Divinity Within Us
People have brought meals. They've watched Lydia, made her feel like a princess, an artist and a super hero. They've picked Tyler up from school, done homework with him. There are so many people who have offered to help. Who have asked for ways they can help, that it is impossible not to see the hand of God in this. I pray He blesses you wonderful, beautiful people. You are our angels.
Little Angels
Tyler and Lydia over the last few days have provided me a gift. Tyler put Mr. Potato heads on a stuffed animal and brought it to me. He made funny voices and so I scooped him up and snuggled him. "There, now you can smile again Dada." He has done this a few more times. So had Lydia. Same glasses, different stuffed animal and an incredible amount of love. This is why we are doing this.
Lift up, With Wings of Eagles
In my moments of desperation I have turned to the Lord again and again. He truly does hear me. Not always does he solve the problems before me, sometimes he takes the burden away and sometimes he makes me stronger so I can more easily shoulder the weight. To have my heart feel light, to feel the surge that it can be done, to have clarity of thought is a great gift that God gives to His children. I have experienced that lifting up. Critics of religion call faith a crutch that allows people to hobble through their adversity in life. They have it wrong. My faith is a set of wings that allows me to rise up and be better than I can be on my own.
I pray you may feel God's love for you as I have.
Long Answer Short
Life is a trial, it was meant to be, but we have our family, we have our faith and we are so, so very blessed.
How Is She Doing? Confessions of an Hyperemesis Gravidarum Husband
It's a Vein, Not a Goldmine.
How is Carrie doing? The same. As in not well. She is now getting IV's. Which on the one hand means she is at least getting fluid on the other hand it means she is getting poked. A lot. 4 times for one IV. And they dig. Carrie cries. I hate seeing her in that much pain.
20 Minutes
She eats very little and when she does eat, she throws up. Sometimes she throws up even when she doesn't eat. Our goal is 20 minutes. If we can just keep something in her tummy for 20 minutes then at least she will get SOME nutrients.
What Can She Eat?
Popsicles, yogurt, apples, mashed potatoes, soup, and bread are among the things she has thrown up. She can eat pretty much anything. She just throws it up after eating it. I am supposed to meat with a nutritionist next week. Maybe that will help. I'll try anything.
Is she taking medicine?
Within the last day we have effectively tripled her anti-nausea medication. Maybe it will help. At the very least the extra dosages of Phenergan will make her sleepy enough she might not notice how nauseous she is.
Every morning I give her a bag of IV's along with various medications I shoot into her arm. It takes about 15 minutes. I then wait two to four hours for the IV bag to finish draining into her body. Then I unhook the IV and shoot some more medicine into her arm. Then I repeat the process at night before going to work. Now we will add a third medicine time without the IV bag.
Is She Able to Get Up and Around?
Today the pharmacist and the nurse warned me not to let Carrie drive. I laughed to myself. Not the funny jovial laugh but more of a macabre laugh. Carrie can barely walk 10 feet to the bathroom. One day she was missing the kids. She got herself out of bed. Walked up the stairs. Went up some more stairs to see if Tyler was home from school. She pretty much collapsed in his bed. I bring the kids to her now.
Okay, but How Is She Doing?
This is hard on her. She frequently asks, "Why did we do this again?" She says repeatedly, "help me" which is both a weak whisper for help and a well practiced prayer. There's not much I can do for her. I can't take away the pain. I can't make time go faster. I can't bring her things to eat she can keep down. She is hungry but doesn't keep food down and gags on anything more than a few teaspoons.
May 15th feels like an eternity.
How is Carrie doing? The same. As in not well. She is now getting IV's. Which on the one hand means she is at least getting fluid on the other hand it means she is getting poked. A lot. 4 times for one IV. And they dig. Carrie cries. I hate seeing her in that much pain.
20 Minutes
She eats very little and when she does eat, she throws up. Sometimes she throws up even when she doesn't eat. Our goal is 20 minutes. If we can just keep something in her tummy for 20 minutes then at least she will get SOME nutrients.
What Can She Eat?
Popsicles, yogurt, apples, mashed potatoes, soup, and bread are among the things she has thrown up. She can eat pretty much anything. She just throws it up after eating it. I am supposed to meat with a nutritionist next week. Maybe that will help. I'll try anything.
Is she taking medicine?
Within the last day we have effectively tripled her anti-nausea medication. Maybe it will help. At the very least the extra dosages of Phenergan will make her sleepy enough she might not notice how nauseous she is.
Every morning I give her a bag of IV's along with various medications I shoot into her arm. It takes about 15 minutes. I then wait two to four hours for the IV bag to finish draining into her body. Then I unhook the IV and shoot some more medicine into her arm. Then I repeat the process at night before going to work. Now we will add a third medicine time without the IV bag.
Is She Able to Get Up and Around?
Today the pharmacist and the nurse warned me not to let Carrie drive. I laughed to myself. Not the funny jovial laugh but more of a macabre laugh. Carrie can barely walk 10 feet to the bathroom. One day she was missing the kids. She got herself out of bed. Walked up the stairs. Went up some more stairs to see if Tyler was home from school. She pretty much collapsed in his bed. I bring the kids to her now.
Okay, but How Is She Doing?
This is hard on her. She frequently asks, "Why did we do this again?" She says repeatedly, "help me" which is both a weak whisper for help and a well practiced prayer. There's not much I can do for her. I can't take away the pain. I can't make time go faster. I can't bring her things to eat she can keep down. She is hungry but doesn't keep food down and gags on anything more than a few teaspoons.
May 15th feels like an eternity.
Saturday, September 21, 2013
Confessions of a HG Husband: Hyperemesis Gravidarum
Baby #3 is coming this Spring. I should have made more calls than I did but given the circumstances I hope you will forgive me.
I wouldn't be honest if I didn't say I am super excited, worried, stressed, concerned, overwhelmed and lost. We've been here before. When Carrie was pregnant with Tyler she was so sick. She threw up several times a day. Her doctor prescribed some medicine that was supposed to help. She was on a combination of Zofran and Phenergan(sp?).
It was hard on her but we made it through. We didn't get pregnant as quickly as we would have because of the "morning sickness". Still as time passed we began to think, who knows, maybe it wouldn't be so bad the next time. Maybe it just happened that one time, we thought. We were wrong. So wrong.
During Carrie's pregnancy with Lydia we learned her sickness has a name. Hyperemesis gravidarum. Doctors will tell you it is severe to extreme morning sickness, that it is brought on by the production of the hormone "human chorionic gonadotropin" which is released by the placenta. In other words, "Congratulations because you're pregnant! Sorry you don't feel so well".
Here's what Hyperemesis really means:
It means making trips to the emergency room or urgent care because your wife is not eating and when she eats, she throws up. She is not drinking. When she drinks anything, she throws up. Since she is not drinking and what she does drink gets thrown up, she gets dehydrated. The dehydration leads to more trips to the hospital. It means watching the woman you love sleep as much as she can not because she's lazy but because when she's asleep she's not in pain. Hyperemesis means her entire body aches and there is nothing you can do about it. It means that you will at least once hear her say "I just want to die." And when I say once, I mean once a day. Most of the time she may just look at you, too in pain, too weakened by the ordeal that she wants it all over with and it hurts to see her like that because there is nothing you can do. Then what do you do? You leave her, alone, in her bed with the lights out because you have to go to work, you have to take care of your kids, you have to go to school or take a test. Yeah, that's what hyperemesis gravidarum really means.
Hyperemesis means you will get suggestions from friends, acquaintances, family members and anyone else. Did you try saltine crackers? Yes, we tried saltine crackers. In fact I smashed them up so small they were barely even crumbs and then I'd feed them to her one by one. Any bigger and they'd come right back up. Even then there were no guarantees. Did you try this great drug, it's called Zofran or Reglan or Phenergan. A drug? You mean there is medicine she can take that will help? Of course we know about that. During the last pregnancy I had a precise schedule set out for Carrie, she was on all three. Did it help? Um, no. Not really. I mean maybe it did. Maybe she would have been even worse but that's not something I can really wrap my head around because I saw how bad she was.
Hyperemesis means calling doctor after doctor, tracking down nurse after nurse. They would try to give her IVs to give her liquid. I'd pray they'd be able to find a vein. Once she was poked 4 times and they finally found a vein after DIGGING AROUND. I still can picture the tears on her face.
If hyperemesis is severe morning sickness, the plague is a severe cold.
She had a picc line because I was tired of the nurses trying to poke her. We made half a dozen trips to urgent care or the emergency room in two weeks. So hyperemesis means changing IV bags in a process that could take between six and nine hours just to keep her hydrated. At least that worked.
Maybe you're like I was, you hear about someone having "severe or extreme" morning sickness and you think, oh, buck up, you'll be okay. I was so, so, so very wrong. You have to understand these are the same medicines they prescribe to patients undergoing chemo. Chemicals are killing things in their body and they give them this stuff to make them feel better, and it didn't really help Carrie. We're not talking about throwing up 14 times during a pregnancy, we're talking about throwing up 14 times A DAY! People smile and think, "you'll live". It's true, there is a VERY small chance of someone dying from HG. Yet most people never understand.
To the hyperemesis mothers.
You are brave. You are amazing and you are warriors. I am so glad we have our little Lydia now. I hope you are blessed as we have been. Carrie and I always say, "Everyone needs a Lydia." My 6 year old son, while I was putting Lydia down, ran downstairs to help Carrie while she was throwing up. Every mother needs a Tyler.
I honestly feel for you. I weep for you. You mothers have to be so brave already during pregnancy and to have such a disease compounded upon everything else is not fair in any way. I pray for you. I hope you have help, a wonderful husband a supportive extended family, friends you can rely on and who will drop everything to come to your aid and children who are adoring and understanding in every possible way. That is the only thing that got us through it and honestly there were times when I wasn't sure Carrie was going to make it. I'm no doctor so please go talk to your doctor but seriously consider a PICC line, frequent IV's, small easily digestible foods, following a strict and frequent snack schedule, telling your husband he is never allowed to cook anything beyond opening up a package of bread, demanding being treated like a queen (with jewels) every Mother's Day and taking whatever medication a doctor may recommend. If your husband doesn't believe me about the cooking let him know that I am banned from ever having buffalo wings in my house. I made the mistake of cooking them early on during Carrie's pregnancy, now they always make her nauseous.
Medication Tip:
Your Rx drugs can get expensive, you may have to buy a lot of them. Don't just call your favorite pharmacy. Call around. Ask for the cash price of your medications. You will be surprised at how much they vary, in some cases by as much as 60%. True story. In our own experience one pharmacy sold the prescription for less than the co-pay at another pharmacy.
Congratulations on your pregnancy. May God bless you and help you and your family through this trial. I'm praying He helps us through ours.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Grilled Triptip
Marinade:4 T of Worchester Sauce
2 T of Red wine vineger
2 T Ground mustard
1 tsp Salt
1 tsp Beef Bouillon granules
1 tsp Chili Powder
1 tsp Garlic Powder
1 tsp Onion Powder
1 tsp Ground cumin
Mix up the marinade. It makes sort of a liquid mud type concoction. Get messy. Pour it and rub it on your meat. You should cover that baby like the naked piece of meat it is. Pour the rest over the triptip. Put it in a bag or otherwise sealable container and pop it in the fridge.
Let it marinate for at least 6 hours (I prefer letting it sit overnight before grilling)
When you are ready to cook it up, let it sit out for an hour at room temperature.
Preheat your grill to about 300 degrees farenheit.
Sprinkle both sides of the tritip with Montreal seasoning. Put it on the grill over indirect heat, you wouldn't want to burn it.
Grill over indirect heat for 30 minutes. Flip and grill another 15 minutes.
Now for the best part: EAT IT UP!!
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Tender Mercies
19 years ago today my baby brother Tanner was born. It was an exciting time. I remember his bith the most out of my siblings because I was so much older than him. We shared a room. When he'd cry during church I'd take him out in the hall and hold him until he fell asleep in my arms. He didn't learn to say a lot before he died but he did start calling me Titan. I didn't correct him. I'd lay in bed reading, he'd come in, climb up on my bed, bound up and down on my stomach and then leave. Five minutes later he'd do it again.
Earlier this month I visited a Phoenix area hospital. My sister-in-law was pregnant at the time with my newest nephew. There were complications so she was on bed-red and under the watchful care of specialized doctors. My little miracle of a nephew, Caleb, was born not too long ago.
As I stood in the hospital my mom mentioned that it was the same hospital, possibly the same floor where Tanner had died. It brought back the memory of it. I never doubted that God had the power to save Tanner from death. I prayed for the faith to accept His will. Perhaps for the first time, without saying the words, my prayer fell along the lines of "Lord I believe, help thou my unbelief."
I remembered, and my mom mentioned this so perhaps the Spirit was working similar thoughts on both of us. I remembered how for my Eagle Scout project I helped organize a gymn full of people and together we made hundreds of quilts. Those quilts went to provide some measure of comfort to grieving families struggling as they watched their sick little ones fight for their lives. I didn't make the delivery but in a beautiful tender mercy, there in that place of life and death, I felt the grattitude of those families and of the little children that God had called home.
During that trip I learned from my younger brother Dustin the "rest of the story" about a family I had home taught. My companion was in the bishopric and we spent hours every month talking and teaching this family. They were awesome. I learned so much from them. That sister is part of the reason why I love traveling. The rest of the story: the son, who was a few years younger than me, served an honorable mission. He was sealed in the temple and was still good friends with Dustin. Somehow I had played a small role in that.
There was a family I hometaught. I didn't really visit them for very long in the grand scheme of things but I sure love them. I will always feel a strong connection with them. It has now been years since we moved out of that congregation. Yet my wife recently received a facebook message from our friend. Their children still talk about some of the things I shared while I visited with them.
There are eternal bonds of friendship that are formed through shared sacrifice, spiritual experience and Christlike love. God teaches us that the same relationships we form in this life continue with us after death and our resurrection. In many ways, I can't wait for that joyous reunion when time and distance no longer seperate me from my loved ones.
I remember two singular moments growing up. One, when I was a Freshman in High School, the homecoming king, captain of the football team and all around awesome guy made me feel like I belonged. He went out of his way, he remembered my name and he brought me in. The other, another older teen I looked up to treated me like an equal, like I mattered, like I was important. Those small moments were such tender mercies to me. I have tried to pattern my life after their example. I have tried to see the good in others, even when it took a while to spot it. I am not perfect, far from it. Yet I declare without hesitation that there is so much that is good and right and beautiful in this world.
I declare with Nephi, with Elder Bednar and with many others, that the tender mercies of the Lord truly are over all those whom He has chosen through their faith.
I learned a beautiful lesson. The day after my 17th birthday I prayed and asked to say goodbye to my brother. I felt I had never gotten the chance. The answer was no. I learned a powerful lesson that day and the Spirit has seared it upon my soul. Families are forever. Have no fear, don't you cry. No need to say goodbye. Don't you know the ones you love will always be nearby.
I share with you my knowledge the God lives. Jesus is the Christ, the Savior and Redeemer of the world. If we will look to God, we will live. I know this because the Spirit has whispered to my soul of its truthfulness.
I pray that whoever reads this may find the faith to allow God to bless their lives forever.
Earlier this month I visited a Phoenix area hospital. My sister-in-law was pregnant at the time with my newest nephew. There were complications so she was on bed-red and under the watchful care of specialized doctors. My little miracle of a nephew, Caleb, was born not too long ago.
As I stood in the hospital my mom mentioned that it was the same hospital, possibly the same floor where Tanner had died. It brought back the memory of it. I never doubted that God had the power to save Tanner from death. I prayed for the faith to accept His will. Perhaps for the first time, without saying the words, my prayer fell along the lines of "Lord I believe, help thou my unbelief."
I remembered, and my mom mentioned this so perhaps the Spirit was working similar thoughts on both of us. I remembered how for my Eagle Scout project I helped organize a gymn full of people and together we made hundreds of quilts. Those quilts went to provide some measure of comfort to grieving families struggling as they watched their sick little ones fight for their lives. I didn't make the delivery but in a beautiful tender mercy, there in that place of life and death, I felt the grattitude of those families and of the little children that God had called home.
During that trip I learned from my younger brother Dustin the "rest of the story" about a family I had home taught. My companion was in the bishopric and we spent hours every month talking and teaching this family. They were awesome. I learned so much from them. That sister is part of the reason why I love traveling. The rest of the story: the son, who was a few years younger than me, served an honorable mission. He was sealed in the temple and was still good friends with Dustin. Somehow I had played a small role in that.
There was a family I hometaught. I didn't really visit them for very long in the grand scheme of things but I sure love them. I will always feel a strong connection with them. It has now been years since we moved out of that congregation. Yet my wife recently received a facebook message from our friend. Their children still talk about some of the things I shared while I visited with them.
There are eternal bonds of friendship that are formed through shared sacrifice, spiritual experience and Christlike love. God teaches us that the same relationships we form in this life continue with us after death and our resurrection. In many ways, I can't wait for that joyous reunion when time and distance no longer seperate me from my loved ones.
I remember two singular moments growing up. One, when I was a Freshman in High School, the homecoming king, captain of the football team and all around awesome guy made me feel like I belonged. He went out of his way, he remembered my name and he brought me in. The other, another older teen I looked up to treated me like an equal, like I mattered, like I was important. Those small moments were such tender mercies to me. I have tried to pattern my life after their example. I have tried to see the good in others, even when it took a while to spot it. I am not perfect, far from it. Yet I declare without hesitation that there is so much that is good and right and beautiful in this world.
I declare with Nephi, with Elder Bednar and with many others, that the tender mercies of the Lord truly are over all those whom He has chosen through their faith.
I learned a beautiful lesson. The day after my 17th birthday I prayed and asked to say goodbye to my brother. I felt I had never gotten the chance. The answer was no. I learned a powerful lesson that day and the Spirit has seared it upon my soul. Families are forever. Have no fear, don't you cry. No need to say goodbye. Don't you know the ones you love will always be nearby.
I share with you my knowledge the God lives. Jesus is the Christ, the Savior and Redeemer of the world. If we will look to God, we will live. I know this because the Spirit has whispered to my soul of its truthfulness.
I pray that whoever reads this may find the faith to allow God to bless their lives forever.
Sunday, January 20, 2013
SOOC Photos: Snow and Train
The world seems so much more peaceful when it snows. Stay away from the chaos on the roads and there is something so comforting about a soft snowfall.
When I took these pictures it was 10:30 at night. I was waiting to catch the commuter train to work. I love how there is so much light even late at night, all thanks to the snow.
I love the contrast between this picture and the previous. Here I focused on the 1st lamp. In the previous I focused on the snow covered walkway.
When I took these pictures it was 10:30 at night. I was waiting to catch the commuter train to work. I love how there is so much light even late at night, all thanks to the snow.
I love the contrast between this picture and the previous. Here I focused on the 1st lamp. In the previous I focused on the snow covered walkway.
Chicken or Paneer Tikka Masala Recipe
Making This recipe was a lot easier than I thought it would be. Don't let all the spices fool you into thinking this is hard. If you can melt butter and dump in ingredients, you can make the sauce. With the paneer, just be patient. If you try it out and recommend any adjustments let me know. Sorry I didn't take any pics of the finished product. I ate it before thinking about it. I tweeked slighlty recipes from Food network and Mattawamum's blog They looked good but I thought they needed slight adjustments. I thought it turned out really well. I bought Lamba Tikka Masala from my favorite Indian restaurant and I thought it was pretty comparable. The restaurant's tasted like it had a little bit of beef stock in it. That could be from the lamb though. I'm definitely making this one A LOT.
Let me know what you think if you try it. My only complaint is that the first time I made it I didn't double or triple the recipe. It is seriously so good.
Ingredients:
1 1/2 Lbs chicken tenders, chopped into bite size pieces
(Marinade)
1 cup plain yogurt
2 Tbsp lemon juice
2 tsp cumin
2 tsp red pepper (I use less when cooking for my low-heat tolerante loved-ones)
2 tsp black pepper
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp salt
1 tsp ground ginger
(Paneer)
8 cups whole milk
¼ cup lemon juice
1 tsp salt (more or less to taste)
(Sauce)
1 Tbsp unsalted butter
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 jalapeño, minced
2 tsp ground coriander
1/8 tsp pepper
¼ tsp cayenne pepper (add more for more “heat”)
½ tsp ground ginger
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp paprika
1 tsp garam masala
1/2 tsp salt
1 can (8oz) tomato sauce
1 c heavy whipping cream
(Garnish)
Cilantro to taste
Chicken
- Cut the chicken bite size.
- Mix all the marinade ingredients in a dish, add chicken.
- Coat the chicken.
- Let marinade in the fridge (at least 30 minutes, no longer than 24 hours)
- Stovetop: Add 1tblsp olive oil (uh oh, extra ingredient, can you handle it?) to a skillet with high sides. Heat the oil, add the chicken. Try not to add all the marinade. Cook on med-high for about 8 mins.
- Grill: Use a grill plate with small slats so smaller pieces of chicken don’t fall through. (I haven’t tried this method yet. Though my guess: 3 mins each side on med-high)
Sauce
- Measure all your spices into a bowl (so you can dump them in all at once)
- Open up your can of tomato sauce
- Melt the butter over medium heat
- Add garlic and jalapeño and cook for 1 minute.
- Dump in the spices. Stir. (it should look pasty)
- Enjoy the amazing smell (seriously, if you don’t, why are you cooking?)
- Add tomato sauce. Stir and cook on medium for 15 minutes. It should be thick when you’re done
- Add in the cream: 1 cup is the standard. You can add more to dilute the heat (you pansy).
Paneer
- Line a large colandar with cheese cloth (I bought mine at Wal-Mart in the fabric section. I ignored the weird looks I got going up and down the fabric/craft aisles) Then end goal is to dump cheese curds in this thing and twist and tie it off so make sure you leave enough cloth to make tying easy.
- Boil the whole milk in a non stick pot (because it will stick) over medium heat. It takes a while for it to get all foamy. That foam is what you want.
- Add the 1/4 cup of lemon juice. It will almost immediately seperate into curds and whey.
- Turn down heat to simmer/low
- Stir, trying to clump the curd together
- Pour out the curds.
- Rinse with water (It is bathed in lemon juice after all)
- Squeeze the water out
- Add salt and mix (seriously please salt to taste. The first time I made it I didn't add salt. It tasted like milk. Only more bland)
- Wrap tightly in the cheesecloth and try to squeeze out even more water.
- Tie it and hang it over your sink and leave for 15 mins. Hopefully it will drain some more
- Give it another squeeze to try and get out any more moisture
Let me know what you think if you try it. My only complaint is that the first time I made it I didn't double or triple the recipe. It is seriously so good.
Ingredients:
1 1/2 Lbs chicken tenders, chopped into bite size pieces
(Marinade)
1 cup plain yogurt
2 Tbsp lemon juice
2 tsp cumin
2 tsp red pepper (I use less when cooking for my low-heat tolerante loved-ones)
2 tsp black pepper
1 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp salt
1 tsp ground ginger
(Paneer)
8 cups whole milk
¼ cup lemon juice
1 tsp salt (more or less to taste)
(Sauce)
1 Tbsp unsalted butter
2 garlic cloves, minced
1 jalapeño, minced
2 tsp ground coriander
1/8 tsp pepper
¼ tsp cayenne pepper (add more for more “heat”)
½ tsp ground ginger
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp paprika
1 tsp garam masala
1/2 tsp salt
1 can (8oz) tomato sauce
1 c heavy whipping cream
(Garnish)
Cilantro to taste
Chicken
- Cut the chicken bite size.
- Mix all the marinade ingredients in a dish, add chicken.
- Coat the chicken.
- Let marinade in the fridge (at least 30 minutes, no longer than 24 hours)
- Stovetop: Add 1tblsp olive oil (uh oh, extra ingredient, can you handle it?) to a skillet with high sides. Heat the oil, add the chicken. Try not to add all the marinade. Cook on med-high for about 8 mins.
- Grill: Use a grill plate with small slats so smaller pieces of chicken don’t fall through. (I haven’t tried this method yet. Though my guess: 3 mins each side on med-high)
Sauce
- Measure all your spices into a bowl (so you can dump them in all at once)
- Open up your can of tomato sauce
- Melt the butter over medium heat
- Add garlic and jalapeño and cook for 1 minute.
- Dump in the spices. Stir. (it should look pasty)
- Enjoy the amazing smell (seriously, if you don’t, why are you cooking?)
- Add tomato sauce. Stir and cook on medium for 15 minutes. It should be thick when you’re done
- Add in the cream: 1 cup is the standard. You can add more to dilute the heat (you pansy).
Paneer
- Line a large colandar with cheese cloth (I bought mine at Wal-Mart in the fabric section. I ignored the weird looks I got going up and down the fabric/craft aisles) Then end goal is to dump cheese curds in this thing and twist and tie it off so make sure you leave enough cloth to make tying easy.
- Boil the whole milk in a non stick pot (because it will stick) over medium heat. It takes a while for it to get all foamy. That foam is what you want.
- Add the 1/4 cup of lemon juice. It will almost immediately seperate into curds and whey.
- Turn down heat to simmer/low
- Stir, trying to clump the curd together
- Pour out the curds.
- Rinse with water (It is bathed in lemon juice after all)
- Squeeze the water out
- Add salt and mix (seriously please salt to taste. The first time I made it I didn't add salt. It tasted like milk. Only more bland)
- Wrap tightly in the cheesecloth and try to squeeze out even more water.
- Tie it and hang it over your sink and leave for 15 mins. Hopefully it will drain some more
- Give it another squeeze to try and get out any more moisture
- shape into a flat wheel with the knot/twist on the side, lay on a plate, put another weighted plate ontop and let it sit in your fridge for 20+ mins
Friday, December 21, 2012
On Faith, Adversity, 26 Lives And Why
On Monday Decemeber 17th, two families met on seperate occassions. Both families were embraced by loved ones. They listened to music. They listened to preaching. They shared memories. They were at funerals. One funeral program reads Jack Pinto. Age 6. "A Brave Boy." Noah Pozner's family described him as "smart as a whip." He called his twin sister, Arielle, his best-friend. She lived because someone made a decision to put her in a different class at the beginning of the year.
Why did this have to happen?
Ana Grace was one of 20 students killed. Her family wanted people to know their beloved little girl was "a child devoted to Christ." Charlotte Bacon, 6, was wearing a new pink dress and boots to school. The last outfit she would choose in this life. Jack was a Giants fan. Receiver Victor Cruz wore his name on his cleats and gloves Sunday in his honor. He was buried wearing Cruz's jursey. Noah's Aunt asked of talking to her nieces and nephews, "How do you tell them that's how their brother died?"
Grace McDonnell was 7. She loved art, gymnastics, soccer and her dog 'Puddin'. Her grandma said "I think everybody should know about these beautiful children whose lives were cut short."
I agree. I pray we never forget the lives of all children wherever they are cut short by violence.
I saw someone post on Facebook. "Where is God in Newtown?"
Earlier this year in Syria video captured a father holding his 5 year old child. It looked like he was sleeping but the tears in that father's eyes told a different story. The boy was dead. Killed in a mortar attack by the Syrian army. The man wasn't even a rebel, part of the opposition. He asked over and over, "Why?"
Sunday a CBS anchor asked a guest, "Why did God let this happen?"
This is not the first time someone in their hour of need has asked such a question. It is often in our trials that we feel the most alone but never once has God abandoned us. That designation belongs to the Son. Matthew 27:46 reads "אלי אלי למה שבקתני" ie. Eli Eli lama sabachtani" which is to say, "My God, My God, why has thou forsaken me? Jesus Christ, the greatest of us all, has descended below it all so that He might understand.
This mortal life of our was designed to be a test. To prove us and see what we would choose in even the most horrible of circumstances. Would we be godlike or not? Would we follow Him or not? The Savior of ALL Mankind has his hand stretched out to us and invites us to walk with Him. "Wherefore say unto the people, Choose ye this day to serve the Lord God who made you. Wherefore my spirit is upon you therefore all thy words will I justify. And the mountains shall flee before you and the rivers turn their course and that shalt abide with me and I with you, therefore, walk with me."
The road He traveled was not an easy one. Yet He allowed his tormentors to persecute Him in so terrible a fashion because He loves us. That torment caused God, the Greatest of All to suffer and bleed from every pore and desire not to partake of the bitter cup. But He did partake and because of that, Glory be to the Father, we may all be clean and we may yet live again.
This life is not the end. Our spirits are immortal. The same socialities and relationships that we have in this life will continue with us into the next. My brother Tanner died when he was just 2-years-old. That was more than 15 years ago yet I am still Tanner's brother as he is mine.
These 20 little children, they will live again. And when they died their spirits were taken straight home to that God which gave them life. For blessed are the children for they are innocent before God and have no need of repentence, since they have no need of repentence they have no need of baptism. All children who die before the age of accountability are saved in the Kingdom of God, and are joint-heirs of Christ.
Where was God? Weeping. Comforting. Bringing a few dozen of His little children home. He has engraven us upon the palms of His hands. A father or mother would sooner forget their child than God would forget us.
I work in the news. I'm not blind. There is much that is evil and wrong in the world. Mothers, fathers, teachers, a President, a nation and even God weep because of the choices of one invidividual on Decemeber 14, 2012. Those choices were evil.
Why does God allows His children to make evil choices? Because that's what Christ died for. That's what His sacrifice was all about. Jesus gave us a choice. Here on Earth during this mortal test of ours we can decide where we want to go. Do we want to follow Him or not? Do we do good or not? Do we go to Heaven or not? Our choices here will determine where we go because sinners will not be comfortable in the presence of God. We will go where we feel most comfortable. If that is in the joyous presence of God or as far from Him as we can get. Bad things happen. Sometimes they happen as a Divine punishment but more often they happen because there are horrible people who do even more terrible things.
Their choices do not define us. It is our own. While there is so much evil in the world there is also much that is good. The twitter hashatag #26Acts is proof. Kristen Beart wrote, "@kbeard137
#26Acts donated to New England Equine Rescue in memory of Jessica Rekos who loved horses". Another man tweeted, "@JRBuckley68 Act #4: Paid for the toll for 26 cars behind me on the Sunshine Skyway Bridge #26Acts" and again someone else "@bdub969391
#26ACTS Paid 4 Breakfast for the first 26 cars in the drive thru after 9:30 at #dunkindonuts - match me please $130 - #newtown". The world is so full of beautiful. I have faith in humanity. I have faith in God. Some may call my faith a crutch that allows me to hobble along through adversity. I call my faith wings that allow me to rise up and be more than I could be alone.
Why did this have to happen?
Ana Grace was one of 20 students killed. Her family wanted people to know their beloved little girl was "a child devoted to Christ." Charlotte Bacon, 6, was wearing a new pink dress and boots to school. The last outfit she would choose in this life. Jack was a Giants fan. Receiver Victor Cruz wore his name on his cleats and gloves Sunday in his honor. He was buried wearing Cruz's jursey. Noah's Aunt asked of talking to her nieces and nephews, "How do you tell them that's how their brother died?"
Grace McDonnell was 7. She loved art, gymnastics, soccer and her dog 'Puddin'. Her grandma said "I think everybody should know about these beautiful children whose lives were cut short."
I agree. I pray we never forget the lives of all children wherever they are cut short by violence.
I saw someone post on Facebook. "Where is God in Newtown?"
Earlier this year in Syria video captured a father holding his 5 year old child. It looked like he was sleeping but the tears in that father's eyes told a different story. The boy was dead. Killed in a mortar attack by the Syrian army. The man wasn't even a rebel, part of the opposition. He asked over and over, "Why?"
Sunday a CBS anchor asked a guest, "Why did God let this happen?"
This is not the first time someone in their hour of need has asked such a question. It is often in our trials that we feel the most alone but never once has God abandoned us. That designation belongs to the Son. Matthew 27:46 reads "אלי אלי למה שבקתני" ie. Eli Eli lama sabachtani" which is to say, "My God, My God, why has thou forsaken me? Jesus Christ, the greatest of us all, has descended below it all so that He might understand.
This mortal life of our was designed to be a test. To prove us and see what we would choose in even the most horrible of circumstances. Would we be godlike or not? Would we follow Him or not? The Savior of ALL Mankind has his hand stretched out to us and invites us to walk with Him. "Wherefore say unto the people, Choose ye this day to serve the Lord God who made you. Wherefore my spirit is upon you therefore all thy words will I justify. And the mountains shall flee before you and the rivers turn their course and that shalt abide with me and I with you, therefore, walk with me."
The road He traveled was not an easy one. Yet He allowed his tormentors to persecute Him in so terrible a fashion because He loves us. That torment caused God, the Greatest of All to suffer and bleed from every pore and desire not to partake of the bitter cup. But He did partake and because of that, Glory be to the Father, we may all be clean and we may yet live again.
This life is not the end. Our spirits are immortal. The same socialities and relationships that we have in this life will continue with us into the next. My brother Tanner died when he was just 2-years-old. That was more than 15 years ago yet I am still Tanner's brother as he is mine.
These 20 little children, they will live again. And when they died their spirits were taken straight home to that God which gave them life. For blessed are the children for they are innocent before God and have no need of repentence, since they have no need of repentence they have no need of baptism. All children who die before the age of accountability are saved in the Kingdom of God, and are joint-heirs of Christ.
Where was God? Weeping. Comforting. Bringing a few dozen of His little children home. He has engraven us upon the palms of His hands. A father or mother would sooner forget their child than God would forget us.
I work in the news. I'm not blind. There is much that is evil and wrong in the world. Mothers, fathers, teachers, a President, a nation and even God weep because of the choices of one invidividual on Decemeber 14, 2012. Those choices were evil.
Why does God allows His children to make evil choices? Because that's what Christ died for. That's what His sacrifice was all about. Jesus gave us a choice. Here on Earth during this mortal test of ours we can decide where we want to go. Do we want to follow Him or not? Do we do good or not? Do we go to Heaven or not? Our choices here will determine where we go because sinners will not be comfortable in the presence of God. We will go where we feel most comfortable. If that is in the joyous presence of God or as far from Him as we can get. Bad things happen. Sometimes they happen as a Divine punishment but more often they happen because there are horrible people who do even more terrible things.
Their choices do not define us. It is our own. While there is so much evil in the world there is also much that is good. The twitter hashatag #26Acts is proof. Kristen Beart wrote, "
Today during my morning newscast Kurt Bestor sang "Prayer of the Children" as a tribute to those beautiful little children. While he sang video of the children played. Little smiling face after little smiling face echoed across the screen. May such prayers be answered is my prayer. Blessed are the children for of such in the kingdom of heaven. So tragic, so terrible yet death is not the end. Their families will see their smiling faces again.
This Christmas season I pray that we all may receive the comfort we need, that we may see the light that shines out from the darkness, that we spread the love of God to all man. May God bless us and keep us and may we all find the courage to allow Him to do so.
Friday, October 26, 2012
Meditation
Catching Up
I haven't posted in a LONG time and there is a lot that I've been meaning to post. So here it goes, rapid fire style.
10 years ago..
10 years ago this past August I returned home from my mission. I served for 2 years for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saint and represented the Lord as a missionary speaking Spanish. My mission molded me in a way I cannot describe but hope to demonstrate each day of my life.
Special fellowship..
I helped organize a mission reunion and by helped I mean earlier this year I talked Robert J. Grow and Linda Grow into organizing a mission reunion. They did pretty much everything else. Tyler and I did go and help them set up chairs and tables on their beautiful lawn. I got to see so many of my friends. There is a special bond that you form with those you serve and sacrfice with. Even a decade apart can't break that bond of fellowship.
I got to see for the first time in a long time my friend Isaac Altamirano. At times in his life he has struggled with different life challenges. It was so good to see him, his beautiful family, and hear they have been sealed together in the temple. As Isaac said "we will always be brothers".
Choices, hobby style..
Save up a lot some money, what do you spend it on? Nice problem to have right? I want to have my own woodshop someday. To be able to take pieces of wood shaped in blocks and rectangles and turn it into beautiful pieces of furniture, carvings or toys, what an amazing opportunity to create. Besides, there is nothing more manly than the smell of cut wood and the sensation of looking at a finished product and thinking, I shaped that. Then there's the chance to buy a nice camera, take pictures with my wife and of my family, record memories of light. Photography is not simply a recording of an image, it is painting with light, shapes and life. One choice would take me away from my family for hours, one choice would encourage me to go on adventures with them. I chose to go on the adventures and paint with light. I still have a lot to learn but I'm enjoying the journey.
(no photoshop was involved in the making of these images)
Now I have a hobby I can share with my wife, and that is priceless.
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