Last Friday was my birthday. Yes, it’s taken me 7 days to write this post. don’t blog-shame me. Maybe if I could get my brain and my body to get on the same page I’d be able to sit down and get something accomplished in an efficient way… but so far that hasn’t been a perk of my new kidney. lame.
Last year, thirty-two felt an awful lot like thirty-one. No big.
This year, thirty-three feels completely different. Only 365 days have passed, but it feels more like 365 years have passed. and I’m on a new planet. and in a new body. with a new identity. and all because of a new kidney.
Since my kidney transplant a little over four months ago, I’ve experienced so much change. Emotional change, mental change, spiritual change, and of course, physical change. All that is to be expected, of course, but you can’t ever truly prepare yourself for something like that.
A common misconception about organ transplants (a misconception even I’d subconsciously subscribed to) is that once a person has receive the transplant, things will return to ‘normal’ and they’ll be ‘cured’. Unfortunately, transplantation isn’t a cure for kidney disease; it’s only one of the treatment methods. The alternative is dialysis. I’ve discovered it’s like trading one set of issues for another. And I’m slowly wading through these new ‘issues’ {you can read more about them here}. They’re all generally minor things (hair loss, mood swings, insomnia, hand tremors, weight gain, skin issues, etc.). Totally manageable and itty-bitty in the grand scheme of things.
One of hardest for me to deal with? The face rounding caused by the Prednisone. Some people refer to this as ‘moon face’ {because your face gets as round as the moon. no joke}. I knew going in to this process that that would be something I’d struggle with. Let’s call it what it is: straight up vanity. Rounder isn’t any less beautiful. I know this and I preach this {even though my body shape is more of the twig variety}. I know round is beautiful because I’ve often been jealous of other women who have curves. But I’ve been struggling horribly with this. It’s mostly that my face isn’t my face anymore. When I look in the mirror, I don’t see me. And that is WEIRD! What if my husband doesn’t like this face? He married a slightly different one. So far though, his only comment has been “you look healthy”. meh, I’ll take it.
I hadn’t realized I was subconsciously letting my struggle with my ’round face’ show outwardly until my five year old Charlie and I were taking silly selfies on Snapchat {like you do}. She made an offhand comment that she liked it better “when I smile with my teeth”. She went right back to doing her bunny ear pose, but that comment stuck with me for days! I hadn’t even realized I’d changed the way I smile over the past few months, simply because my face was rounder and I felt self conscious about it. The reality is everything is different and most of this new Ashley is here to stay, so I need to hop on board and ‘make it work’! {insert Tim Gunn voiceover from Project Runway. You can tack on a ‘frankly I’m concerned’ just for fun…}
Regardless of my inner strife, my birthday came just like it does every year. I’ve never been big on celebrating birthdays. I’m content to just let them pass; which I guess isn’t the norm because every time I responded truthfully when asked what I was doing for my birthday {which was nothing} people were shocked. Chris was determined to make me celebrate at least a little, though, so we did it my way:
The morning of my birthday I met a friend for coffee, then we popped in to Target to ‘just get diapers for Will’. Of course I came out with all kinds of things but… happy birthday to me!
Then Will and I ventured out to the DMV to renew my license. I could have done it online, but I was desperate for a new photo! Last time I took a license photo the ‘no smiling rule’ was in effect here in VA and, you guys, I HAVE to smile in photos. If I don’t smile I look like a Disney movie villain. It ain’t natural. Will spent a lot of time crawling around on the floor, dragging his monkey behind him, and pointing to anything interesting he saw. like beards. dogs. women with beards and dogs. and I allowed it. honestly, the fact that he’s mostly non-verbal is a blessing in those situations. I’d just pretend he was pointing at something else and distract him with a cookie.
For dinner we went to Rita’s. It was a total parenting win and we had no regrets.
Then later that evening I was able to meet up with other foster and adoptive mamas to laugh and cry and eat yummy food. It’s a beautiful thing when women support women, mamas support mamas, and we can surround one another with a tribe to call on and fall on when in need. When that happens, mom’s win… but more importantly, families and children win, because they reap the benefits of having strong, healthy foster mamas in their corner.
The next morning, we had breakfast with my family. Then on Sunday, Chris took me out for lunch {I pretty much just ate chips and guac}. Totally my kind of birthday weekend.
I’ve been so spoiled lately and have so much to be thankful for. I’m working on embracing thirty-three and the new Ashley; one who smiles with her teeth more often.
Words to live by
Foster Care Truths: There is no 'winning'
Some of you may have read this post before; I’m re-posting it after making a few edits. It’s too important not to share again, especially since I know it may help change the perspective of so many people regarding foster care and because I have even more of an excuse to talk about ‘all things foster care’ during foster care awareness month.
In 2016, after our son Will had been in our home through foster care approximately 18 months, his biological parents signed an entrustment {basically signing over their rights to him, placing him into the state’s care and kicking off the adoption process for him}. It was honestly the most brave, selfless act.
That day, and then following the entrustment’s approval in court later on, we got so many congratulations. They ran the gamut from “He is so lucky to have you” to “Thank God he gets to stay with you”. And all of those are true, I think. We are able to provide a safer environment for him and God has provided us with more resources for helping him grow and succeed with his disabilities. And I was incredibly happy to be one step closer to having Will be a permanent part of our family.
I can’t express to you the relief I felt after those papers were signed. The adoption wouldn’t be finalized for almost 10 more months, so I didn’t have true closure, but any progress after months and years of being in limbo begins to lift that invisible burden of worry and anxiety that comes with constantly living in the ‘unknown’ with one of your children. Though I felt relief and we received so much support and love and encouragement… I could not enjoy the happy congratulatory phrases. I had such conflicting feelings battling inside.
Outwardly, I was happy and celebrating in the fact that Will was moving towards permanency with our family. Inwardly, I was mourning. I was mourning for him because he would be losing the potential for connection with the people who gave him life. I was mourning for his parents because they were losing their son. I think when you aren’t an active part of this process, it is easy to view the foster care situation in terms of “us” (the foster parents) and “them” (the birth parents). But I can’t see it that way. And we shouldn’t. It is not a case of us winning and them losing. There is no winning.
I’d been battling these conflicting feelings for a while and unsure of exactly how to express them when I came across this post from Humans of Foster Care. It captured my feelings exactly:
“Terminating parental rights is a very serious thing, and even when it is best interest of the child, or requested by the child, it doesn’t make it any easier.
NO ONE WON TODAY. There were NO “winners” in that courtroom today. No one cheered at the outcome. No one was excited. There was no joy. It was a somber day for all involved. Everyone knew what today meant and it weighed heavy on all of us in the room.
Parents walked out without a child.
A child, no matter the age, walked out without a parent.
There were no winners today.
Today was tragic. Today was hard. I am sad in my heart tonight for all parties because I am human.”
– from Humans Of Foster Care facebook page
There is joy in the process of foster care and adoption. There is joy in our own personal story of foster care and adoption. There is happiness and relief and hope for Will’s future. But God calls us to also share in the sorrowful burden his birth parents are carrying, and only God can provide true healing and peace for all parties.
Today, I hope you’ll take a minute to re-frame your perspective on parents who lose their rights or choose to give up their children to another family.
Please pray for first families. Pray for siblings who may never know one another. Pray for birth parents who may be feeling shame, embarrassment, anger, or loss. They do not win.
Then take it a step further and include all social workers, attorney’s, and judges involved in these types of situations as they make the most difficult decisions that impact so many lives and futures. They do not win.
Next, pray for foster families . Those who take someone else’s child into their home and love on them through painful times. They do not win.
I want to touch on one more thing, since it relates to foster families and how we interact with biological families.
It is sometimes very easy to fall into that mindset of ‘us’ vs ‘them’, particularly if the agency and courts and attorneys subscribe to that mindset as well.
One of my biggest regrets in all our foster care adventures over the years happened with Will’s biological parents. I had the opportunity to come along side Will’s birth mother and father and show my support for them during an important meeting and I didn’t. Now, don’t get me wrong, we did support them and provide them with as much encouragement and love every opportunity we got. Except for this one time. I was intimidated because we were in a big meeting. There were social workers and attorneys and all sorts of people present. It was my first time experiencing this type of meeting; I didn’t know what to expect and I was unsure of the social guidelines. So I chose to play it safe and fall in line with the general atmosphere of the room, sitting across the table from Will’s mother and father even though my heart was screaming at me to snatch my chair up, drag it over to their side of the table, and plop my heinie in it so I could be WITH them during this big meeting. Instead, I sat across from them; which from my perspective seemed more like ‘against them’ rather than simply across from them. I can’t even imagine what it looked like from their perspective. All I know is that because I made the choice to cast aside all boldness and ignore my heart, I sat in awkward fear, which meant I couldn’t comfort Will’s birth mother when she began crying. I couldn’t let them know that someone was WITH them and FOR them. I may not support their lifestyle or their choices, but I DO absolutely support them as humans, whom God created and loves. I support them as Will’s parents who gave him life and love him.
It was one missed opportunity, and yet I still think about it. I’m grateful for the experience though, because now I know better. When we know better, we do better, and there are so many chances we are given to change our own perspective and the perspective of others regarding foster care and the relationship between biological parents and foster parents. There is no winning in these situations. There is no ‘us’ vs. ‘them’. There is only protecting and loving and supporting all parties involved. Easier said than done for us as humans, but God is able and willing. He will heal and mend. It is who He is and what He does.
Getting my life back together.
Y’all. This week has been so good.
On Sunday my best mate Jessica drove down from PA to essentially help me get my life back together. Thanks to the crazy adventures in December and early January this year {Christmas kidney transplant, New Years surgery recovery, and Snowpocalypse resulting in school being cancelled for one thousand days} our home was a hot mess. It was as if every surface in every room had turned into that one chair that everyone has in their room where they pile clothing for 3 weeks before tossing it all in the wash. Add to that the fact that the kids still live here every day and don’t show signs of moving out any time soon. We had quite a challenge to tackle. Fortunately for us, my mom has been coming over frequently to help keep our home livable and essentially manage my life since I can’t adult right now. Also, Jess is superwoman and has a special skill called ‘get it done’. My house is now manageable again thanks to the two of them! More than Jess helping with cleaning and organizing, I just so needed to be near her. She’s one of my people, and as such helps me heal just by sitting with me on the couch while we stuff our faces with ice cream and send funny memes to each other from one foot away. She also waxed my eyebrows for me because she doesn’t want to be seen in public with Chewbacca. also maybe because she loves me and wants me to be my best self. We’ll never know, but they do look fabulous.
We also went on a ‘quick’ {lol} Hobby Lobby adventure with Kelsy Lee {aka kidney sister} and Tiffany {my fitness guru and the reason I ever finished grad school}. I didn’t buy allthethings. Thank you Jesus for self control. Also to Chris for putting the fear of God into me regarding my medical bills. I keep forgetting about those little nuisances. Can’t a girl celebrate her new kidney and new life with some retail therapy at the crafting superstore?! Apparently not, because we also have to pay the heating and electricity bills. buzzkill.
Then this weekend Chris and I got to hang out with other leaders at our church. It was so fun and so needed. I’ve been in hiding for over a month now, avoiding public places because people are germy and germs mean bad news for someone who is immunocompromised. also ew. I was hesitant to go, because germs, but also because of my issues with being prickly lately {read about my Prednisone rage struggles here}. In the end I decided I really needed to try to get out of my hibernation cave and maybe even put on some real clothing. And by ‘real clothing’ I mean tunic tops and yoga pants with the waist pulled all the way up my torso, because a waistband rubbing against my incision ain’t happening. Maybe I should resort to a dress that doesn’t rub against any of my skin. Does this come in my size Lady Gaga?
And quick question, are the body guards included? I need some protection from the huggers and high-fivers out there.
In the end, Chris allowed me to venture out of the house and into the masses. I’ve been starved for real worship and connection with my tribe. There’s no substitute for getting together with others who love God too and want more of His goodness and grace and love in their lives. Unreserved praise, immersion in learning, growing as leaders. It was epic.
{This weekend’s activities made possible by: Thieves essential oils in the air/on the skin/up the nose, as well as my own pillow and blanket, and cleaning wipes on every surface in that hotel room. I ain’t messing around.}
I needed this weekend. As of right now, one month into 2018, I’ve failed on so many fronts. I honestly have this nagging push that I need to be taking on even more things right now. Yet most of my ‘goals’ are still at square one and I want to scratch them off the list completely so I don’t have to worry about failing at them. Seems safer to not even try. Being lovely is so hard y’all. I quit.
Just kidding. All I DO IS WIN. But for real, I left this weekend’s event with a renewed focus. It’s so easy for me to beat myself up right now because I feel like I’m not doing enough, that I am not enough because I am in this season of rest and healing and being slow and healthy {ugh, like a sloth or something}. And I find myself keeping a running list of all the things I’m not doing. Guess what y’all? We can’t all do all things and hallelujahpraiseGod he made us all different so we CAN’T all do ALL THE THINGS. If I’m striving to add something to my plate because I see another woman excelling with that particular bit of life and I want it for myself I am going to miss out on something awesome God really wanted for me. I don’t want to be distracted by things that are not for me. I want to focus on lovely and I can’t do that by adding additional things to my ‘list’; that’s just asking for failure. Instead I’m focusing on unclenching my fist around the worry and comparison I so easily cling to. I’m reducing my ‘I must accomplish this’ list. I’m staying small and simple. Searching for the quiet so I can listen to God and allow him to direct my actions.
If this verse in Philippians isn’t the definition of simple and the path to lovely, then I don’t know what is.
Also, eating at Smash Burger helps too. Simple and lovely. Like God intended.
Fighting for Lovely (+ my HOPE Spotify mix)
I’m now 5 weeks post-transplant. Things are getting better every day. My new kidney is adorable and working like the energizer bunny, clearing my body of toxins and being all-around awesome. My kidney is, after all, only 24 years old, so I’m practically a ‘youth’ again. At my last transplant clinic visit I graduated to every-other-week visits!
Only one new organ was added to my body, but it seriously feels like I got a whole new body. Everything is so different. Much of that has to do with the medications {they just barge in and jack stuff up all over the place} and some of it is simply what happens to the human body when you have major surgery…. like your eyelashes fall out and your hair gets a new texture. oh goody.
This past week I’ve been struggling with emotional side effects from my medication.
This is me on prednisone. The aggressive, irritable diva porcupine….
To combat this aggressive porcupine thing I’ve got going on, I’ve been immersing myself in prayer and reading scripture because I want to make sure God’s promises to me remain in the forefront of my mind. Promises about who He is and who He says I am. I’ve also had my Spotify HOPE mix on repeat. Trying to let the words soak in deep. Fighting to stay lovely. I hope it helps you too, in whatever you’re struggling with right now.
{click on the little green Spotify button and it will take you to the Spotify register/log in page}