Do You Want to Know About Me?

A month or so ago I asked my blogging friends to give me questions to answer about myself. Today, I'm going to begin to answer them.

Karen asked, "I know you have a passion for writing. Have you always loved writing? If not, how and when did it start?"

It's hard to say when my love of writing began. I didn't write anything outside of assignments for school, but a couple of teachers starting in middle school commented that I had a gift for writing, which sank fairly deep. I entered a "Just Say No" writing contest in the 8th grade and won for my school. I was thoroughly surprised. Writing had always come easily to me, but I didn't think anything of it. But, by high school I realized more of my desire to write when I joined the high school newspaper.

My newspaper teacher was very encouraging and inspiring. She saw a gift, which I was yet to see, and pushed me to write better and better. I later become the editor-n-chief (one of two I might add) my senior year, an accomplishment I'm proud of still today. I loved writing for the newspaper, but I didn't want to seek journalism as a career. My teacher was disappointed that I wasn't going to continue writing after high school. I did, however, discover my love of writing poetry that same year. I wrote to cope with my feelings of depression. Beyond poetry, I wasn't that interested in writing.

Through my early twenties I only wrote for school assignments in college besides poems ever so often when I had the inspiration. I married at 23 and wrote several love poems to my sweetheart husband. As our relationship continued we began to have problems and sought counseling. My counselors encouraged me to journal, not just poetry, and my love of writing deepened.

Then, I gave birth to our beautiful daughter, Scamp, almost 3 years ago. I started my blog with Scamp as my inspiration, and God revealed to me (again) the passion that had always been instilled in me. I hadn't realized my passion before or at least how deep it was. God had been preparing me all along and continues to today. I want to share my life struggles and how God has miraculously brought me through. I feel as though I am only beginning. I'm at the cusp. He opened the door for me (and another blogger) to start a book review blog entitled Teen Lit Review. I'm able to share my love of God through this ministry. But, He's still preparing in me a deeper message, and in what outlet it will be shared I'm not completely sure. I do believe, however, part of it will be in writing.

Time Travel Tuesday

This week travel back to your junior or senior high prom…

Did you go all out? What did your dress look like?

Who did you go with? Any special memories from prom night?

Venture on over to Annie's to share your memories.

I went to prom as a sophomore and as a senior. My first prom was with my first serious boyfriend, who was a grade ahead of me. My prom dress was above the knee, sleeveless and fitted. It was completely covered with a vertical stripe sequined pattern. The colors were dark -- red, purple, black, and maybe green. It really didn't look as bad as it sounds!! I wore my spiral permed hair up. My date arrived for some pictures, then he took me to his parents' house for more pictures. I believe we went straight to the prom. It was held at a meeting hall overlooking the lake. We entered on the second level, which overlooked the dance floor and an erected two-story high twinkling Eiffel Tower on the dance floor. The theme was Paris. My most unforgettable moment was when my shoe toppled down the stairs, and my date had to fetch it for me. We danced, had our pictures taken, ate, then went home. I had an early curfew.

I missed my junior prom because no one asked me (no boyfriend), so when senior prom rolled around I asked my friend Jeff. He was actually my first date's best friend. He accepted, plus we started dating soon after. I thought I looked much better in these pictures. My dress was solid black velvet and almost floor length. The dress was very simple except for a lightly sequined upper back. My hair was pulled up again, and of course, it was big, curly, and totally 80s (although it was the 90s!) He took me out to dinner first, then we went to the hideously decorated high school cafeteria for a few dances. Afterward, we went to my friend Jill's house to watch a movie (one of the sequels to Tremors). He took me home before the movie ended because, yet again (and rightly so), I had an early curfew.

Both proms were fun -- not really the proms themselves, but buying the dress, having my hair done, and of course the expectation of a magical night.

Isn't God Amazing?

Yet again another follow-up post. For the whole story read parts 1 and 2.

So, many of you may be wondering how I am doing emotionally. Well...I've pretty much been at peace since the beginning, minus the whole scared for my own life thing. Don't take it the wrong way that I didn't have concern and longing for the baby. God eased my concerns. It's quite an amazing thing. I thought I would feel guilt and tend to on a lot more menial things, but I felt like I handed my baby into the arms of Jesus. Of course, it helped that we only knew I was pregnant for less than 24 hours. Everything was in God's control.

I haven't really been through what I would consider a typical mourning process. I have not broken down. I may yet. But, I do believe that God used His word to prepare me for what Matt and I were about to go through. I do have some sadness over what could have been, but God has given me a quaint joy knowing that when I do reach heaven, I will see the child He had intended to live with Him in heaven. I know God also used those who interceded through prayer for Matt and I during this time.

I am full of awe for God for His mercy and power, and I am able to walk away from this knowing two things:

Prayer changes things.

And God's peace surpasses everything.

ER Scare: Part 2

If you haven't read part 1, click here.

The nurse finally got me set up with an IV and some pain medication. We were still waiting on the surgeon, so my parents decided to go ahead and take Scamp home with them. In the meantime, Beef's mom arrived, and he went home to pack a few things. Being standard procedure, the doctor requested a urine sample, so my MIL (Suzanne) helped me to the restroom and waited outside. I finished up and started feeling lightheaded, so she came in while I positioned myself on the bathroom floor. I knew I was about to blackout, otherwise I would not have laid myself down on the germ-infested floor in only a remnant of a gown. The nurse came in and tried to help me up. I informed her I was going to pass out, and even before she had me in the wheelchair I was out. I dreamed the ten or so paces back to my room and awoke to three nurses lifting me back onto my bed. My first thought was I wish I could go back to dreaming. I was so proud of my MIL though. She didn't freak out at all.

Beef came back, stunned to hear I had passed out. About that time, the surgeon came in and said he felt fairly confident that I did have an ectopic pregnancy. The only choice we had was surgery. The doctor informed us that you cannot replant the fertilized egg elsewhere, and it could be fatal if the tube ruptured. He was going to perform a laproscopic procedure. Basically this means I would only have three tiny incisions, one in my belly button and two a bit lower on either side.

I was in surgery within the next hour or so. I felt fairly peaceful until the actual time came of being wheeled into the operating room. But, the anesthesia took over quickly. The procedure lasted about an hour and a half. The doctor checked both tubes and found the pregnancy was on my right side. The intense pain I had was from blood seeping out the end of my tube with each heartbeat. Luckily, I didn't have very much blood in my abdomen.

I was released from the hospital later on that evening. Healing was fairly quick, about a week and a half. I followed up with my doctor the following week. Two days later, they called saying my pregnancy hormones were a little high, and I needed to head to the doctor's office immediately for another ultrasound. Again, I was terrified. But, when we arrived there, we had to wait over an hour. They didn't seem to be as panicked as the nurse had been on the phone with me. Again, the ultrasound revealed nothing, and I was sent over to the hospital for a couple of shots. These were supposed to break up any residual pregnancy tissue, plus cause some more pain. Other than a little nausea, the pain from the shots was minor though. I go back to my doctor tomorrow for follow-up bloodwork.

I am almost 100% back to normal and am able to lift Scamp as much as I'd like. The incisions have almost healed, and hopefully all will be well at the doctor's office tomorrow.

ER Scare: Part 1

Many of you already know about my recent scare over Easter weekend, but I wanted to go ahead and write out the details as a way of remembering.

I started having some anxiety attacks with the severest one on Thursday, March 20, the day before Good Friday. I'm used to having bouts of anxiety and thought the attacks would pass soon. By Friday, I was having more anxiety accompanied by abdominal pain that increased to cramping by that night. It was strange because it wasn't my normal "time" and the pain did not decrease with medication. I went to sleep and woke up in the middle of the night with intense back pain but was able to fall back asleep. I decided on Saturday morning to have Beef take me to the emergency room.

The doctor was concerned that I either had an ectopic pregnancy (pregnancy in a fallopian tube) or my appendix had ruptured, but the pain was too low to be my appendix. She ran tests and determined I was pregnant. It was a shock to us because I was still on schedule with my time of the month although the last one was abnormally long. We thought I must have been about 4 weeks pregnant. The doctor ordered an ultrasound that revealed nothing. It was just too early to tell. I was sent home with instructions to follow up with my doctor in a few days to see if I was still pregnant. The doctor was concerned that I may have already miscarried with my last menses. The nurse also informed me on what to expect if I was to miscarry. Beef and I were a little too apprehensive to be excited about the pregnancy due to all the pain I was having, but of course we wanted to have the baby.

I awoke on Easter Sunday at 5 am to intense cramping on my right side. I thought I was about to have a miscarriage but there was no bleeding. The pain was so severe I was scared for my own life. The doctor had told us that if an ectopic pregnancy ruptured, I could die. Beef got on the phone to my mother, who is a nurse. She and my dad would come up to get Scamp, but I told Beef just to go ahead and call an ambulance. Within 5 minutes two fireman were at our door followed shortly by two paramedics. One of the paramedics was our friend Chris who comes to our Thursday night get-togethers. He rode in the back of the ambulance with me while Beef stayed behind to get Scamp ready. It was nice to have a friend beside me.

I arrived at the hospital and was shortly met by my parents followed by Beef and Scamp. Beef said he had to lure Scamp out of bed with the promise of Easter candy. She came in with her Halloween bucket stuffed with Easter candy. They got me stabilized with pain medication, then we waited for the surgeon to arrive...

I will finish up the rest of the story tomorrow.

Out Christmas Shopping

Dear Readers (the few of you who are left anyway since I'm so way behind on blog reading),

How are you? I've been out Christmas shopping. The lines and crowds have been killer on the weekends, so this week all my plans and free time will be devoted to shopping and wrapping. I started out with Scamp at my side, but a toddler smack dab in the middle of the terrible two's makes one sticky mess out of shopping, literally. Although her temper wasn't as bad today as the puke I had to clean off her and the stroller that she expelled in the middle of Belk. Luckily, I did have all the shopping done in that store that I needed. Thanks to all those sweet other patrons that looked at us with pity and concern. Sometimes, a mom needs that.

I managed to get her sparkling clean minus the stroller which will need some major attention with a soapy sponge and her outfit that is still in a garbage bag in the car. She even got to see Santa and have a sucker that replaced all the eggs and Kix she ate for breakfast this morning. The whole ordeal wore her out because she conked out in the car on the way home. But, not even a minute later, I heard the tiny clanking of metal amidst the Chipmunks Christmas Don't Be Late rendition on the CD player. Strange how I really thought it was part of the song until a nice lady honking and motioning for me to roll my window down while we're sitting at the red light explained "something" fell out from underneath my car. That "something" is still yet to be identified even though hubby's probably underneath the car himself as I write.

Well, Scamp's safely in her bed, snuggled underneath her blanket with a sticky face and hair that will have to wait to be attended to until after she wakes up. Sometimes, you gotta give in to the no suckers in the car rule. I'll be heading back to the store, not to Belk mind you. Hopefully, a few days away will help the other nice employees and one very determined custodian forget my face.

Who Needs Lessons in Cycling 101?

That would be me! A couple of weeks ago, I took my brand-new bicycle out for a spin while Beef watched Scamp. It was one of the first cool fall evenings we had, and I wanted to enjoy it. I had made it about 5 minutes from home when I hit a small incline causing me to pedal my hardest. I reached the summit of the the hill winded but confident when my right pant leg got caught in the chain of the bicycle. I was able to catch myself before turning over or pulling my pants down, but when I bent down to unhook myself, I couldn't. The end of my workout pants was lodged well within the metal chain and even the hardest of yanks wasn't freeing it. I didn't know what to do but when I saw an seemingly nice pedestrian making her way toward me, and I motioned her over.

"Excuse me," I said, "This is so embarrassing, but my pant leg seems to be caught, and I think I'm going to need a pair of scissors to cut myself loose."

"Oh," she said. "I have a cell phone. Maybe we could call someone."

I began looking around at all the homes surrounding us and started hinting that maybe she could see if one of our neighbors had any scissors. She seemed threatened by this decision, so I told her I would just call my husband.

I was feeling so awkward that I misdialed twice but finally got Beef on the phone.

"Honey, I need you to bring me a pair of scissors. My pant leg is caught," I tried explaining.

"What?" he replied. He seemed to be baffled by my proclamation.

"Just get in the car and come with a pair of scissors. I'm stuck," I said.

"Ok. I'll be right there," he stated after I told him which street I was stranded on.

I thanked my kind helper, and she walked away leaving me to stand awkwardly on the side of the road next to my bicycle, one pant leg hiked halfway up my calf and a humiliated look on my face. I tried not making any eye contact with the other passer-byers, even another walker with two large dogs that had to stop and sniff the tires of my bicycle.

It seemed Beef was taking forever to come to my rescue. I even considered trying to walk straddling my bicycle toward home, but that was going to take ages not to mention how many stares I would receive with that stance! Beef finally arrived and stepped out of the car, scissors in hand with a fresh smirk painted across his face. He walked toward me, looked at the damage, and pushed the right pedal of the bicycle forward causing the chain to rotate halfway around and FREE my pants! If I wasn't mortified enough already, I was then.

"I needed a good laugh today," he said and got back in the car, I'm sure laughing the whole way home. I took off pedaling in the opposite direction, completely embarrassed, with the now untangled pant leg tucked safely in my sock. I rode straight home, too self-conscious to finish my workout. I was glad the lady who helped me hadn't asked the aid of one of my neighbors afterall.

Now, everyone will be able to identify me as the woman on the turquoise bike with her pants tucked into her socks. "She's still stuck in the 80s," they'll think, but I won't correct their assumptions.