Rising above

About two months after Ben was born, Will and I, and our newborn were driving on an interstate at night.  As we headed towards an intersection, I watched the light turn yellow. My immediate instinct was to tell Will to run through it. I knew his instinct would be the opposite. As we slowed to a stop we watched the car in front of us fly through the intersection to beat the light. In a horrible miscalculation a truck turning left turned too soon and glided right into the car in front of us going about 60 mph. You can imagine the scene that followed.  The truck pushed the car across the intersection and into a lightpost. As we pulled over to help- Will jumped out of the car to find out more about the causualties of those inside the car.  I stayed in the car with Ben. I felt so helpless and vunerable at that minute. I knew lives were hanging in the balance and I knew our families lives had been inches away from being a part of that horrible scene. Will returned after seeing there was little to do but wait until the paramedics came. I jumped out to see if there was any comfort I could offer, along with crowds of others who had gathered. Inside of the car was a young woman and young man. The woman dazed and out of it, the man covered in blood from his head having gone through the windshield. I too quickly found out there was little I could do, but wait.

Why do I bring this story up, after so long? It was the only way I could illustrate some of my feelings right now. I feel so vunerable, and a little scared. But there isn't a whole lot I can do to fix things. My gratitude and worry for my small family has increased tenfold over the past few weeks. I thanked my husband a hundred times since that day- that he did not run that yellow light-- but it was still unnerving how close we had been to a worse fate. I cringed for a half a year after that everytime I saw a yellow light and of course stopped immediately. Just as with the car crash incident- we were the same people as we were before the accident. Will's capabilities are still the same as they were before the test results came in. He is fine. He has tremendous abilities to preform - and preform well in a career. But the reality of having the possibility of not becoming a doctor so prominent before us-- brings us to imagine all the what ifs:  what if we can't get a job, what if we can't pay down the medical school loans, what if we can't ever buy a home, what if Will can't find a way to use his MD degree... Just as in the crash-- the situation was made so much more dramatic because we had a newborn in the back seat. Finding solutions to Will's career questions feel so much more pressing- now that we have our children's future to think about.

Now forgive me if this post seems a little over the top. I know the greatest blessing of all is that we are together as a family and that we are safe. That Will did not loose his life over the stroke or have to suffer blaring disablites as a result. I imagine even to this day the two in the actual car crash suffer from residual pain left from their injuries. It is those that truly suffer that our hearts should constantly be turned to. I do not claim that our problems are any greater than the next. I used this example to illustrate how I feel a little helpless and vunerable. I wish I could do more for those around me. I wish that life wasn't so unpredictable. But most of all I wish for a future that is condusive to a strong family unit where Will and I and our children can care for our own needs and extend ourselves to the caring of the needs many others. I imagine with Will's capablities this will be possible, maybe not as a physician, but in another area. I know just as in the night of the crash, the Lord is watching over us. He is protecting us and preparing us for something better. It is now my challenge to believe that, and to let go of my fears and feelings of helplessness.

To hope and quietly wait...

Last night Will was reading in the Old Testament in Lamentations 3:26 "It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord." He read it aloud to me, because he was so impressed with the scripture. At the time we both felt like our hoping and waiting, was finally almost over, but this morning we found out it is not. The journey feels like it has just lengthened by months or even more years. Neither of us know what to do or how to feel. Will did not pass Step 3. And while all the justification was there for why it may be impossible to do, (i.e. four years since medical school, a stroke - which caused significant memory loss and etc...) somehow we hoped the impossible could become possible. So today instead of dwelling too much on our disappointments... I want to talk about our sons recent broken leg.

Two days ago our little guy seemed to collapse under his weight on a playground. It wasn't a trip, or a jump that turned into a fall, it was just a fall that turned quickly into a lot more tears than we expected. He kept on saying "sad, sad, sad, sad." Within minutes I knew we would be spending sometime in the ER. I was able to keep it together- even when I had to leave the room during the Xray (on account of our baby in waiting). I watched from the hallway, as our little man screamed, but I kept it together. It wasn't until we had him home and fast asleep that I lost it. I couldn't believe that someone so innocent and undeserving, would be given such suffering. It wasn't on account of sloppy stepping, or reckless jumping. He just fell. And in a moment his ability to walk was taken away from him. Benjamin doesn't really understand what happened to him, and when he tries to stand up, that stance is greeted a sharp pain. I'm of course worried the ache will keep him from standing even when he can stand again.

Will's situation is not that different from Ben's. I can't imagine another person more undeserving as Will of such a burden. And much like little 20 month old Ben, we don't understand why we have lost so much. But I believe what it says in Lamentations "it is good to hope and quietly wait..." I believe not only is there purpose to what we are going through. I believe the hoping will bring us closer to the "salvation of the Lord" than ever we could get without this particular waiting period we've been given. Finally, while the fear to once again try to stand is ever present, because of a past riddled with failed tries, I know Ben will walk again and Will is going to suceed, someday. So keep tuned cause this story STILL aint over ;)

To be continued...

I don't know if the last post was a cliff hanger for you, but I thought I'd bring you back off the cliff. Will took the second part of his test on Wednesday. He feels like he did OK. With these types of tests "OK" means you know you missed a whole lot, but you're hoping you answered enough correctly to pass. The results will not be revealed until June sometime, so I'm afraid we'll have keep you waiting again.

Finally the pressure of the test has been lifted. Will and I spent the last half a week celebrating. It has been wonderful! Below are some of the adventures we have gone on. As for what's next the list includes: finding a job, trying to sell our condo, looking for experince in radiology to beef up our resume, preparing for the arrival of our next son, etc...

Since I started with the news, I will end with a thought. Will's family is overflowing with marriages lately. To date- one of his sisters has been married this year, a  brother is engaged and Will's youngest sister just announced her engagement. We are not even half way through the year and at least three kids in his family will tie the knot before years end! Will is thrilled, he is practically all smiles whenever we talk about his family. When I look at where they are currently and the time we've had in our marriage, I can't help but feel grateful. Marriage comes with so much more than companionship. It brings with it sacrifice, understanding, stability, new challenges, children, and a lot of work from both in the partnership to build a secure home for their family. I cannot on paper begin to describe how much my love for Will has grown through all of the experinces our marriage has brought with it. It feels like putting a pea next to a watermelon, like the earth next to Jupiter. I am so grateful that Will has worked day in and day out, not only to regain his career, but serve and love me. To support me in my role, and give me wings to fly. I love him more today than I ever have. I believe that some day that love can fill the emancity of space.  Love can continue to grow, much like our children will grow, and then they bring children of their own, and so on. The family/love never stops growing. What any of this has to do with Will's recovery, I guess it has everything to do with it.  Will has taken a challenge and instead of turning inward he has turned outward. He has made it possible for our relationship to flourish-- out of the love and compassion that he has gained from those challenges. I know that it could have been just as easy for him to turn inward and find less reason to love and live fully, but he did not. And for this I will be eternally grateful.

After Will's test he came home to this carrier for his bike. He has fond memories of his dad riding around  his siblings on such a seat, so I thought I'd suprise him with his own. 

Hiking with Ben. This is the only time I held him, the rest of the time, Will carried Ben and I carried our other baby ;)

Ben's thumbs up after a great walk around Temple Square.

Ben loves his backpack.

We had a dutch oven party for Will a couple days after the test. We had like a billion kids there (nieces, nephews, kids of friends). It was lots of fun!

Living in Limbo

I wonder if I were able to take a poll of all the people who read this blog, what percentage of them could really relate with the title of this post. I don't know how common it is to feel like you have no control over your situation, or like all you can do is wait and hope. Friday Will took the first part of Step three. After eight hours in testing he returned home at 8 pm to then prepare to wake up at 5:30 am the next day for his next day of eight hour testing. Once he arrived, however, the following day the computer lab he was taking the test through had unforeseen technical difficulties and Will's test was postponed. We have spent the last few days on the phone and sending messages. We are not sure when we will be able to take the rest of the test, but for now we are in limbo. Our initial reaction was frustration. It feels like the same thing we have been dealing with for years, just another "wait and hope" situation.  I guess this is why I believe we are not the only ones.

I think of my friend Marshall, who is admits his chemo therapy treatments, that don't seem to be doing the trick.  He is a week or two away from a bone marrow transplant. Marshall and his wife and family can only wait to see if it will make a difference. Wait on the test results. His life is on hold right now, with little he can do to change his situation.

I believe much of our purpose in this life is to learn to trust. Trust that things will work out. So often we don't have a choice in what happens to us, but we always have a choice to determine how we react to the things that happen to us. I am inspired with the way Marshall has and continues to deal with his situation. We are all on the edge of our seats, hoping for the best for Marshall. Our hearts are breaking, thinking about his baby boy who desperately needs a father. We don't understand the what and why behind everything, but we know that we have all power over who we are and how we live. Defeat or victory lies within. I know no matter where we end up, I'm married to a victor. So even with all the set back's Will has and continues to run into in his career path -- we still win- not because of what happens to us but because of who Will is and how he continues to deal with what has happened to him.

Have I ever told you my husband and I come from a "house divided" I am a U graduate and Will is a BYU graduate. Needless to say Will's family was not amused when I sent out this text of Ben in front of Will's testing center. 

This was the cake I made for my husband's mid-way through his test celebration ;)

Remember

When we moved back into my condo we had a drip. It was in the front bath. I don't know for how long our renters had dealt with this drip-- but it only took a few days to really annoy me. I felt like the entire Atlantic ocean was passing through my bathtub every week. I digress. Will spent a few weekends installing new parts but to no avail the leak was not to be stopped. We lived with it for a few months. It was really frustrating but I tried to ignore it.  Finally one day the leak got a lot worse and we called in the plumbers. After cutting through the wall and completely replacing the components -- i.e. handles, spout and shower head, the leak was finally plugged. For a few days it was glorious! No noise!  No drip!  Just the sound of silence. It's been a month since the plumbers came. I hardly even think about the bath anymore. It's as if it never happened.

This is obviously an analogy for Will's stroke. So much of the difficult recovery happened in the first two years, we hardly even think about the stroke day to day. However,  I think we should. Not think about the  "stroke" per se- but think about the repair- the amazing recovery we have received. The blessings that have come. Why is it so easy to forget.  Like the 10 lepers who were healed when Jesus sent them to wash in a river, and only one came back.  The other nine I'm assuming were very grateful, but they were already starting to forget-- by what miraculous power their life long illness was removed. We must never forget to praise God for his great power, and remember his great mercy. I imagine if I were to write a book about happiness. Gratitude would be one of the first chapters in the book. Gratitude for the things we have, or the things that are not broken. I believe this more than anything will make the things that are broken in our lives a whole lot better :)

OK-- so now for the news you've all been waiting for. We're having a baby Boy!!!  We of course are due in September, but the knowledge of Ben having a brother has me walking on clouds. I hope they will be the best of friends!  Besides my ever increasing belly-- the big news in our lives right now is we are a week away from taking Step 3. Will studies day and night and has recently been timing his tests to keep up to speed with his resident counterparts.  He takes one test after another all day long. INTENSE!! Please find a spot in your prayers for Will this week as next friday and saturday are very big days for him!!!

From the beginning...

I've been thinking a lot lately about the beginning. When Will was first out of the hospital. When he would easily frustrate if too many conversations were going on in the room, or if we were coaching him to improve.  Or when our conversations were one or two words, and involved very little eye contact. He was always slouched on the couch and looking dreadfully tired. He was not confused, because he had so little to think about. But we were constantly perplexed with how best to help him and why he wasn't "helping" himself. Considering his state, the last thing on my mind was a relationship.  I only knew I would need someone to step in and offer a hand of friendship- if I were ever in his situation. I had no idea what the future held for us. What wonderful things were in store for the both of us. During those first two years, we drifted through intense sorrow, anger, and at times pity.  I can't tell you how many times we both wept. Our faces reddened from the hours of inconsolable pain. We couldn't accept what had happened to Will. We were trying to accept that he might never get better. Those times, are now such a distant memory. And while the consequences of Will's stroke still haunt our bank accounts, and have me fretting for the future of our children… they are so small in comparison- to those first two years.

I guess I am talking about this now because I have been following a couple blogs (Elder Schenk & Rob's Stroke Recovery) that have me wanting to reach out and just hold the members of the families of those involved. To let them know that things will get better, in fact they can be better than they were before the said incident. One blog hits close to home because it involves a father who had a stroke a few weeks before graduating with an advanced dental degree. Another hits a nerve because it is a missionary from Utah who was hit in Brazil and is clinging to life in a hospital there…. as the weeks pass he is slowly recovering an much of what he is currently going through resembles Will's first few weeks, after his stroke.

I don't want those reading this blog to believe that I am saying that because my husband "got better" that everyone will have a happy ending.  Our ending is far from over and we're still hoping for the happy part. What I mean to say is that the experience of going through something so traumatic-- has deepened our joys and lifted us from the life we had known. Not only do we weep when we read these blogs- out of a shared feeling, but we know that no matter how difficult the journey-- they will not be left comfortless if they rely on the hope of a better day.  There is more to this life than careers, wealth, and comfort.  This knowledge makes you better. It changes the way you treat others. It changes the way you use your time. And for this I will be eternally grateful.  I pray for those that suffer. I know that their sorrows are many and are not light, but I know with deepened joy they can know that there is a Father in Heaven who has not left them alone, and who will strengthen them every step of the way-- this is what makes it all worth it.

As for the rest of our lives… We find out the gender of the baby I carry a week from today. The offer on our condo fell through so we won't be moving yet!  Which is great because originally we were moving the week of Will's big test. And of course my husband is getting more involved in his studies because the  date of the exam is quickly approaching.  He wakes up at 5:30 am most mornings and studies morning till dawn.  I get his time on weekends :) Below are pictures from Ben's first two Easter egg hunts.  It's sooo much fun having a toddler!!  Ben is soooo cute!  Will was much more effective in guiding Ben to the eggs. Ben came away from "my" easter egg hunt with three eggs and the one where daddy was there too, with 12 easter eggs. I love my Boys!!

Endure:To withstand with courage

What a simple definition. I have to admit having had quite a bit different impression of the word. I pictured pioneers pulling handcarts across snow covered plains without shoes. I pictured my grandma seven years into a debilitating illness- wondering if she would ever be relieved of the pain and shaking. I never, however, pictured it the way it was defined by President Thomas S. Monson this weekend at a Young Women's General Conference. For the first time the word Endure- meant something more powerful to me instead of something more difficult and sad. The term is now becoming something I can put my heart into. My arms around. I can ask myself in the midst of a "great trial" or even a "small trial" - do I feel courageous right now? Am I acting with courage? Or am I merely just muttling through just waiting for the hard times to end.  I confess to the latter more often than I am comfortable with admitting.

My sister asked me last week to come up with something I could do better. As I listed the first thing that came to my mind, she quickly put down my idea - as it was a put down, sounding of defeat.  She said-- "That can't possibly be it-- your Heavenly Father would not encourage you with a feeling of failure. Those thoughts are coming from the adversary. Try again." The next time I thought of something I really wanted to change.  I thought of a goal I could accomplish. I had a glimpse of myself changing- becoming better. Feeling better.  I guess you could say, feeling courageous. I've determined after my brief 33.5 years here on this earth that life is riddled with trial and human weakness.  And not because it is our doom or destiny to live a life of sorrow. It is so we can prove our courage. That we can rise above. And that through the strength of the being who created us- we will rise above. My classic example is my dear husband. He has and continues to withstand with courage. I am inspired by his faith and courage. And when I look into our child's eyes I can only believe that our moving through this experience together is the greatest experience I could ask for, and it is not tarnished with sadness but joy.  The kind of joy that makes you believe.  That gives you more courage.

As for our lives, things are crazy around here. Ben is climbing up ladders and on tables, and in drawers. Will is gone 88.9 percent of his waking hours to the library. I am emerging triumphantly from my first trimester of pregnancy! I practically lived in my bed for two months-- it feels nice to be able to get out and go places now :) We're probably going to move in the next month, and the week after that Will is going to take Step 3 of the boards. Lots of great things in our future. So keep with us!

Summer

ps I can't help but leave you with a visual example of the title of this post. Check out this Link.