My first labor and delivery experience was horrific. My daughter had anencephaly, diagnosed only one week prior to her birth, and we knew that even if she survived her birth, she would soon die. Her neural tube had not closed, and her brain had never formed. She was completely dependent on me to keep her alive, so we knew we were leaving the hospital with empty arms. God graciously spared me the pain of watching her take her first and lasts breaths, and she was stillborn - truly the saddest day of my life. For me, nothing has ever compared to January 11, 1991. I remember every person who was in that room while I labored for an entire day and night. Some of those in the room I had chosen and asked to be there with me; some I had not. Some were helpful. Some were not helpful at ... View Post
You’re Going To Die
My daughter-in-law is pregnant. My newest little longed and prayed for, and already loved grandchild will arrive sometime in early August, God willing. In the meantime, a shower is in the works of being planned, the baby registry is being built, names are being discussed between parents, the nursery room is being prepared, and all of us are dreaming about the sweet life of this newest member of our family who we can't wait to meet. Even prior to this nine months of waiting, we were all anticipating, dreaming about, hoping and praying for this child. And soon, we will anticipate every growth spurt, and every first - the first tooth, first smile, first laugh, first word, first step... with great excitement, celebration, and a million FaceTimes and Instagram photos. It's a peculiar, ... View Post
In Sickness And In Health
I spend 40 hours a week with cancer patients, and it's always sweet when someone brings their spouse, a friend, or a family member to sit beside them during their chemotherapy infusion. No one should walk through this alone. Recently, one of my close friends was diagnosed with stage 3 cancer, and has begun the chemotherapy and radiation journey, their spouse beside them every step of the way. I know this couple. I know them really well. They rarely do anything apart from one another; 54 years of marriage, and everything they do, every decision they make, the other is always the focus of what drives what decision they make. (They will even cut a potato in half to share - but that's a whole other story for another time!) It is so encouraging to me, even as a single woman, to watch ... View Post
Get Out of the Quick Sand
I could have cleaned my house today. I could have. I could have done a lot of things. But I sat on the couch with a stack of 4 books next to me and read a little bit of each one of them. I think I even snuck in a little 15-minute nap before the phone rang. Every now and then, I'd turn the television on. And every now and then I thought about Tony, my co-worker of many years who would tease anyone who sat too long and ask if they needed to be turned. I probably needed to be turned today. What books am I reading, you ask? Well, let's start with "The Women" by Kristin Hannah. It's excellent. Typically, it's my nighttime read. It's a fast read because - well, I don't want to put it down. Then there's "When Strivings Cease," by Ruth Chou Simons - an excellent read, but I find ... View Post
Encouraging Me
The 19-mile drive home from my old job used to provide me with plenty of time to unwind from a 12-hour shift, and finally some quiet space and time to think. It was easy once I returned home to jump in the shower, plop down in the corner of my plump Army green sectional couch, and whip out a meaningful, heartfelt blog that would make my stats soar, and fill my email in-box with lots and lots of encouragement. While I'm not wishing another 19-mile-home-from-work job, and I'm quite content where I am at now just 12 miles from home, (even though traffic at 5:30 p.m. is much different than traffic at 7:30 p.m.) - it's just not the quiet, peaceful, unwinding sort of reflective kind of time I used to have. It's no longer as easy for me to "plop" in the same corner of my couch and just kick ... View Post
The Salad Bowl, The Sink, & The Island
While moseying down the aisles at the grocery store last night, I spotted the very unusual bowl my friend Zhela always serves her salads in. I was so tempted to purchase one for myself - but I know my salads would never taste as delicious as hers. Isn't there some truth to food tasting better when someone else prepares it? I believe it's true, but I also wonder if it doesn't have something to do with that cool bowl she owns. I think it just might. Zhela makes thee best salads, and creates her very own salad dressings that she also pours from the prettiest glass bottles. I must admit though, that I always wonder if there will be enough, because really - it's not that big of a bowl! Recently Zhela brought a salad in that very bowl to my home for a gathering of about 10 women, and I ... View Post
More Than I Can Handle
In 1985 while sitting in my office in Korea, our mail carrier brought me a handwritten letter from someone, writing to tell me our friend Connie had been murdered in Italy a few weeks before. That was way, way more than I could handle. In 1991, at Loma Linda Hospital in San Bernadino, California, Mary Small, MD, did an ultrasound on me when I was about six months pregnant. She told me my daughter had no brain and would not survive outside of my womb. Then she asked me if I wanted to deliver now, next week, or just wait until I went into labor. That was way, way, WAY more than I could handle. When Jacquelyn was born on January 11, 1991, I held her lifeless little body all night, and someone came to take her from me the following morning - take her from me forever and ever. ... View Post
Cooking for One
If you know me, you know that I'll talk to just about anybody. That's why people think I'm an extrovert. But I'm not. While it's true that I can talk to anyone, anywhere, anytime - the truth is that I love nothing more than coming home to my quiet little house where if anything is out of place it's nobody's fault but mine. The very thought of having to share my closet, my refrigerator space, or my toothpaste with another human being is worse than the thought of seven root canals. For real. Oh gosh, where was I going with this? Oh! Mashed potatoes, that's right. One of the most frequent conversations I've found myself in the middle of lately is that of sharing the changes that come with empty nesting. I've shared with three or four women lately, and one of them as recent as ... View Post