But the Lord stood with me

Exactly one year ago I was ringing in the new year at Cleveland Clinic in the cardiac unit. I was high on pain medication, hooked up to monitors, and wearing my finest pajamas. My crew made it an occasion to remember with sparkling grape juice in fancy glasses, party poppers, and NYE hats. We took pictures, ate snacks, had a countdown, and made quite a bit of noise with our poppers and squealing. It's a wonder we didn't get kicked out of the hospital.

Tonight I am sitting in my own apartment with my new husband. No pain medications, no monitors, but I am wearing my finest pajamas. When I look down I see a mended heart and a ring on my finger, both reminders of the life that has been lived in the last year.

If I could summarize 2017 with one verse it would be:

"But the Lord stood with me and strengthened me."

-2 Timothy 4:17

I recovered from open heart surgery, but the Lord stood with me.

I laid in bed for three months, but the Lord stood with me.

I went back to work, but the Lord stood with me.

I completed months of cardiac rehab, but the Lord stood with me.

I planned a wedding, but the Lord stood with me.

I made some life changing decisions, but the Lord stood with me.

I traveled to Cleveland, Tampa, Montego Bay, and all over Kentucky, but the Lord stood with me.

I dealt with migraines, pain, and dislocations, but the Lord stood with me.

I was depressed, angry, and weary, but the Lord stood with me.

Yes, 2017 was full of life - both hills and valleys. Because despite all the hard things, so many good things happened too.

I got a new aorta that removes so much worry from my life.

I learned to be still, quiet my soul, and wait.
 

I worked hard. I made a difference.

I had a beautiful wedding - a day that was what I had always dreamed of. I gained more family and an amazing husband.

I saw new and exciting parts of our world.

I learned patience, acceptance, and contentment.

I was cared for, supported, and so so loved.

2017 wasn't at all what I thought it would be. It isn't the experience that brides usually have when they plan their wedding. It isn't usually what cardiac patients would experience during recovery. It was different. It was hard. It was beautiful. It made me laugh and cry at the same time. It made me call out to Jesus for healing and relief. It made me wallow and feel sorry for myself. It was exciting. It was new. It was exactly where I needed to be, exactly what I needed to experience to get to.. here: looking forward to the rest of my life, praising Jesus for my life, and hopeful that 2018 will be just as wonderful (but maybe not as exciting.)

Here's to 2018.

God is good.

God is good, all the time. And all the time, God is good.  After nearly a decade of waiting, it is time for my open heart surgery. When God needs to move, He sure can use some interesting methods to do so. He certainly doesn’t need our help.

In mid-November I went for my annual cardiology visit where I was told that things were stable – no significant change to my aneurysm. A short two weeks later, God decided we needed a second opinion.

I was at work with my coworkers when we decided to go out to lunch together. One of them volunteered to drive since they have an SUV and it would be roomier. I called shotgun and we took off. About half a mile up the road, we noticed a truck leaving its driveway rather quickly – with no intentions of stopping. My friend laid on the horn, but it was too late - the F150 slammed into our car, on the passenger side.  We later found out that this hit totaled her vehicle.

Frightened and shocked, the three of us piled out of the car. The airbags hadn’t deployed, but it was a big hit. We began to assess the situation and quickly noticed that there was NO DRIVER in the other car. There was no child playing that knocked it out of gear, no drunk driver, not a soul was in the vehicle… the owner of the truck was inside sleeping! How bizarre.

My job was to call the police and I did so with shaking hands and a racing heart. Something felt funny – it was like my heart couldn’t catch up. I dialed 911 and they soon had an officer on the scene. After things were taken care of, we went on to lunch. I just couldn’t calm down – I was scared and shaken up.

With my aneurysm in mind, Mom and I decided a trip to the ER would be for the best. We headed to Lexington to get an overall check up – especially on my heart. After 9 long hours, we finally got discharged. I had the usual accident injuries: head injury, strained muscles, but then the doctor said that the CT showed my aneurysm measuring significantly larger than my cardiologist had just two weeks prior.

This warranted some action. Mom gathered my medical records and overnighted them to Cleveland Clinic, where I had previously been seen, several years ago. They are number one for cardiology in the United States. If anyone knew what measurement was right and what to do, it would be them.

Within a few days (last Friday), Cleveland Clinic called and said they agreed with the larger measurement and wanted to see me – the following Monday (this past Monday).  Woah – that was quick! The rapid appointment set up told me that the surgeon must be considering surgery as a possibility or else it would have been postponed just a little while.

So mom and I left Sunday to make the trip to Cleveland. Sunday was mom’s birthday and this was the second time she had spent it at Cleveland Clinic with me. We arrived and had a full day of testing on Monday. Tuesday was the day we would meet with the Cardiothoracic Surgeon, Dr. Svensson.

Dr. Svensson was kind, intelligent, and had a pretty cool accent (he is from South Africa). He stated that I am at the threshold for surgery, but that with my connective tissue disorder and upcoming nuptials, he thought surgery was the best option. And just like that, so nonchalantly, he and I signed some forms and his assistant came in to schedule my surgery. I began to cry, but quickly had to suck it up – there was a surgery to plan! I just felt so relieved to have finally heard the words I had been waiting for, “Stacie, it’s time.”

It was a whirlwind from there. We set my surgery date for Tuesday, December 27^th. This meant my preoperative appointments had to be done before I left Cleveland, which caused us to spend another day in Cleveland. This way, we enjoy Christmas in Kentucky, head to Cleveland the 26^th, and then go straight in to surgery on the morning of the 27^th.

And so here we are. I’m on my home from Cleveland, typing this post on my laptop. I watch as cars drive past and open fields turn into city skylines. Somehow in the midst of this storm, I feel such a sense of peace. I wonder what God’s plan has been all this time. Did He have one or did He just decide spur of the moment? Whatever He did, I know it is His timing.

In my mind here is how it went… God had hoped my initial cardiology visit would clear things up. Maybe he thought the technician or doctor would notice the increased size. So when that didn’t happen, maybe God was looking for the perfect opportunity to get me to the doctor. And as I rode down Main Street with my coworkers, God saw that F150 there and He just gave it a little nudge. The nudge He knew I needed to get to Cleveland. I’m not sure if that’s exactly how it happened or not, but I know God had His hand in this regardless.

All throughout the Bible, God used ordinary people, animals, and objects to show His glory. He used a teenage girl to be the mother of Jesus, He used a talking donkey to lead a man down the right path, and now He has used a driverless vehicle to guide my life.

So dear friends, how can you help? I know you must want to do something. I ask you to pray… pray hard. Pray for my family to stay sane during the lengthy procedure, for their safety when traveling to be with me, and for their peace of mind and heart. Pray for me. Pray for God to calm my nerves, that I will handle the surgery well, and have a speedy recovery. And please pray for Dr. Lars Svensson – the man who will quite literally have my heart and life in his hands. Although Dr. Svensson is a world-class surgeon who has performed more than 10,000 surgeries in his career, my hope is in Jesus because He is a world-class savior who holds every life there is and ever has been. It is in HIM that I find my peace and comfort.

Of course if you want to send cards, gifts, or well wishes I will gladly accept those too! I will have my mom read Facebook messages and text to me once I am coherent – please feel free to fill my wall and inbox with prayers, love, and encouragement. If you want to physically mail something or get something to me, you can call the gift shop at Cleveland Clinic or mail cards to:

Stacie Lawrence

Cleveland Clinic

9500 Euclid Ave.

Cleveland, OH 44195

Thank you for your continued love and support. I would not have made it through the last decade without my amazing family and friends. I love you all dearly and I look forward to seeing you when I am back in Kentucky!

God is good, all the time. And all the time, God is good.

"And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns."   -Philippians 1:6

Photo taken January 11, 2011

28 things about my invisible illness

List articles are so popular right now. So here are 28 things relating to my illness that you may not know. What else would you like to know? Tell me and it could be featured in my next blog post.

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1.) The illness I live with is: Dysautonomia (POTS), Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome (EDS), Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS), Bicuspid Aortic Valve (BAV), and an Aortic Aneurysm. (I’m trying to get the whole alphabet!) What this means is my body can't control automatic functions, heart rate, blood pressure, temperature, etc (POTS). My body is lacking collagen, which means joint pain, dislocations, and I am easily injured (EDS). My uterus does not function properly, creating pain, annoyances, and sometimes cysts (PCOS). I have chest pain and cannot play contact sports so that my aneurysm won't burst (BAV and aneurysm).

2.) I was diagnosed with it in the year: POTS - 2012, EDS - 2012, PCOS - 2008, BAV - 1996, Aneurysm - 2007.

3.) But I had symptoms since: MY. ENTIRE. LIFE.

4.) The biggest adjustment I've had to make is: Making better decisions based on what my body needs as the time. Not staying out late, pulling all-nighters, not overwhelming my schedule, taking my medicine regularly, and keeping a low-stress life are things I STILL struggle with.

5.) Most people assume: That I am healthy. I do not look sick, therefore I could not possibly be sick. I wish people were more informed about invisible illnesses.

6.) The hardest part about mornings are: Functioning before 10am. It takes my body a lot longer to start moving and working than a normal person. This means 30 minute bathroom trips, inching along as I get dressed, feeling nauseated and unable to eat, and so many other things - basically anything that required functioning normally.

7.) My favorite medical TV show is: Grey's Anatomy. The have actually had patients with aneurysms and I believe one with EDS - so cool!

8.) A gadget I couldn't live without: Toss up between my heating pad, tens unit, and laptop. My heating pad keeps my swelling down, tens helps with pain, and my laptop keeps my hands from cramping up when I take notes in class.

9.) The hardest part about nights are: Being comfortable enough to sleep and not waking up with a dislocation. This has improved dramatically with my new bed!

10.) Each day I take: 10-12 pills. I sometimes also wear a brace, compression sleeve, pain path, tens unit, SI belt, or taping. It just depends on the day and what part of my body hurts the most.

11.) Regarding alternative treatments I: Feel that they may work for some people. However, I have tried almost everything that I have heard will help my issues. If I am not already drinking your magic juice, using your oils from Africa, or standing on my head for 10 minutes each Tuesday when it is partly cloudy...there is probably a reason.

12.) If I had to choose between and invisible illness or visible, I would choice: Invisible. I may get judgmental stares for using the handicapped parking, but I am able to blend in when I choose to and that is nice to have the option. Sometimes in the right setting, I forget I am sick for brief moment.

13.) Regarding work and career: I fear that I won't be able to handle a "real" job. I am nervous that I won't have an understanding boss or coworkers or that I will be too sick to perform my job responsibilities. I have been blessed so far, so I have to trust that God has a plan.

14.) People would be surprised to know: That I don’t always handle everything well. I usually have a smile on my face and sassiness to spare, but sometimes when it gets rough, I do have breakdowns. I get sad, I get discouraged, I cry. But then I pray, pick myself up, and keep going.

15.) The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been: That I may not be able to have children. Between my aneurysm, my connective tissue disorder, the potential of passing these on to a biological child, and the risk of very serious complications, I have made the decision to not have children. I want to be a mama so bad and I feel the calling to open my home and heart to a child that I didn’t bear. I plan to adopt someday – hopefully multiple children.

16.) Something I never thought I could do with my illness that I did was: Travel. I have a passion for traveling the world, but it is more difficult with my illness. I haven’t let this stop me though – I just have to plan more carefully than most people would have to.

17.) The commercials about my illness: Do not exist. I am what is known as a zebra – this means my condition is rare and it is not common for people to have heard of it.

18.) Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is: Playing volleyball! I played for 11 years, but finishing my senior season was really rough. I would collapse on the floor after games, hardly able to breathe. It would take my body days to recover. I tried playing intramurals at EKU and I made it through our season, but I am now officially retired!

19.) It was really hard to have to give up: Caffeine! Since my medical issues became more serious, I gave up drinking pop. I used to drink 6 Dr. Peppers a day so this was a big adjustment. The caffeine wasn’t good for my heart and the carbonation wasn’t good for stomach. I now have the occasional iced coffee, but overall I don’t drink caffeine.

20.) A new hobby I have take up since my diagnosis is: Crafting. I now enjoy calmer activities like coloring, painting, scrapbooking, sewing, etc. It gives me something to do in my spare time that is safer than physical activities.

21.) If I could have one day of feeling normal again I would: Go to an amusement park! I miss riding roller coasters and rides with large drops. I can’t ride anything above the kiddy rides because of my aneurysm and the pressure it would put on my chest. Before my diagnosis, I LOVED roller coasters.

22.) My illness has taught me: To see the best in others. I can be critical of people, but after suffering from an “invisible illness” I have learned to be slower to judge. You never know why a “healthy” looking person is using handicapped parking, taking an elevator up one floor, or using some type of assistive device. Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about.

23.) One thing people say that gets under my skin is: You should try to exercise, drink more water, stop eating sugar, take this vitamin…fill in the blank. People tend to assume that I can somehow do something to get better. I am chronically ill – it is not a cold.

24.) But I love it when people: Actually take an interest in my illness. It’s one thing to ask how I’m feeling, but it’s even better to ask more detailed questions and try to understand what I am going through and what makes my body so different. I’m not shy about my illnesses – I actually love to share with others. Don’t be afraid to ask!

25.) My favorite scripture that gets me through tough times is: 2 Corinthians 4:16-17 – “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” This reminds me that this isn’t forever and it will be more than worth it when I get to Heaven.

26.) When someone is diagnosed I’d like to tell them: It’s going to be okay, but you have to fight. You have to be a self-advocate. You have to try hard each day. Sometimes it will be hard to find the motivation and energy to get out of bed, but most days you have to because you have a life to live. Your life has value, even though you are ill.

27.) Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: The unpredictability of my health. I can be fine for months, but then spin into a rough patch for a few days, weeks, or months. It’s frustrating, but I am thankful that I have more good days than bad.

28.) The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn’t feeling well was: Bring me flowers and chocolates, pray with me, hold my hand, watch movies with me, bathe me, hold my hair while I threw up… what hasn’t been done for me? I am so thankful for my friends and family who fight so hard for me and with me.

A story of surrender: my testimony

For the last few weeks in Bible study, we have discussed how write and share your testimony. For the first time, I shared my testimony with the group. It was so liberating to share my story, to let others in, and to open up about my relationship with Christ.

I have not blogged in almost a year, so I thought sharing my testimony would be a good way to restart.

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I have grown up in a Christian home, with two Christian parents, going church every Sunday and Wednesday, and praying before meals. I spent my summers at vacation Bible school, went to Christian camps, and I knew my Bible story books like the back of my hand. I’ve always known Christ so there wasn’t this big “ah-ha” moment like there is for many people who come to Christ as adults.

At the age of nine, I became very sensitive to right and wrong and was more aware of my own relationship with God. I wrestled with the decision to actually become a Christian because I thought I had to be perfect. I didn’t understand that the sacrifice had already been made and that I would be forgiven of all past sins as well as future sins. I thought I had to live a flawless life and that terrified me.

For four years I fought with myself over this matter. At every invitation and alter call I would be in tears because I knew better, but was too scared to do anything about it. One night, while at revival with my cousin at her church, the preacher looked right at us and said, “what about you girls, do you know the Lord?” We looked at each other and then nodded at him, unsure of what to do or say.

On the way home that night, I burst into tears telling my mom what had happened and that although I knew who God was, I didn’t know Jesus in the way that I needed to. We pulled over and prayed together, I called my daddy, and we turned around to meet at our church. I was baptized into Christ at 11:30 pm on August 23, 2007. For most people this is where their testimony ends, but for mine this is only the beginning.

Teenage years are just tough – no matter who you are. But fighting chronic medical conditions as a teenager adds another level of difficulty. I was struggling to keep up with my friends and wanted nothing more than to be normal. I still was very sensitive to right and wrong, which I believe was and is the holy spirit inside me. I wanted to please everyone, especially mom and dad, and most importantly, God.

As my high school years were coming to a close, I was dealing with a lot of changes. College decisions were looming above me, my health was failing, and I was dealing with relationships I didn’t know how to navigate. But through the stormy weather, my constant was God. I would go through phases where I felt closer to Him than at other times – like we all often do.

I’ve always been organized and a planner – I still am and it drives everyone around me insane. Every area of my life had to be planned, down to the most tiny detail. Looking back, I feel that maybe this was because the lack of control I had over my medical issues. I had to compensate for that by controlling the things I could. You know what they say, we plan and God laughs.

Despite my micromanaging and plan making, God would change things up. This made me feel as if I was constantly failing. I felt a lack of peace in my life, even in the presence of God. Although I was Christian, and gave Him my life, there were still come things I was holding back. Maybe it was a lack of trust or the idea of relinquishing control on the last piece of my life I was holding onto.

After many tries, God finally got through. He finally was able to show me how to truly surrender. One day, while at the hospital, I anxiously sat in the room with mom. We were waiting on the results of whatever tests I had that day and for whatever reason I was particularly uneasy. I decided to check my email while I waited and that’s when I saw the KLove verse of the day in my inbox.

The KLove verse of the day is something I have been a subscriber of for years. It comes into my inbox in the wee hours of the morning and it is a random verse each day. So on this particular day, that verse had been sitting there allllll day and by the grace of God, I opened it at this moment.

It read, “And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.”

      Phil 1:6 (NLT)

I immediately began to cry and as I showed mom the verse, we just sat there and cried together. I truly felt that God had used that verse, that email, and that moment to remind me of His unfailing love. He was asking me to surrender my life, every last piece, to Him. It was almost as if He was whispering to my heart, “Stacie, it’s okay. Let go. Give it to me. What I have for you is far better than anything you could every dream of.”

And I did.

Little by little, because I’m still human, but I let it go. Surrender is a struggle, it’s one I wake up every day and choose to fight. Sometimes I mill over the same things again and again, until God reminds me to stop. I am reminded that I don’t need to pick back up what I have already laid at the feet of Jesus. I don’t have to be uneasy, afraid, or discouraged because Jesus is more than conqueror.

I’m still learning and I am still growing. Each day is an opportunity to commune with God, to lean on Him, to trust His will and way. My life isn’t perfect, but it is so much better with God than it could ever be without Him.

Since that day of surrender, I have found myself feeling happier, lighter, and unafraid. My life exists to glorify God and each fear, sickness, imperfection, and situation are an opportunity for God to shine. I have a joy I cannot possibly put into words. I’m not afraid of death, pain, or heart surgery because the one who holds my future holds my heart.

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P.S. I honestly can’t remember what my test results said that day. But I do know that it was okay. It always is.

TSA Adventures

Traveling for any normal person comes with many challenges. 

Traveling across the country for 10 days with multiple medical conditions is really rather difficult.

I must be prepared for any situation that may arise while I am away from home. I need everything that will make me as comfortable as possible. I need medicine, equipment, etc. So for this 10 day trip, I had to pack…

• 15 different medications, all in original containers, packed in gallon size baggies (two of them because it wouldn’t all fit in one), in a bag that goes on the plane with me. Because that much medication CANNOT be let out of my sight. 

• A tens unit. This is to electrically stimulate muscles and joints which helps with chronic pain. mainly, I use this for my back and shoulders. 

• Two knee braces. One that is a sleeve, which easily fits under clothing. Another, bulkier brace which is tighter and better when I am on my feet a lot. 

• A heating pad - but one that plugs in because who knows when/where I will have access to a microwave for my other ones.

• A taping kit. This is to help stabilize my ankles on days when we have a lot of walking. Surprisingly, tape works better than any brace I have tried. When I say tape, I mean super strong, medical tape that takes like 3 washes to come off. It’s the good stuff.

• A letter detailing my condition. Just in case we have to make a stop at the ER. This letter for my cardiologist outlines my medical issues and explains what precautions/treatments the ER doctors should take. 

• Theragesic. Which I often refer to as “Thera-Jesus” because that stuff is miraculous. It helps sooth muscle aches, kind of like icy hot.

Whew. That’s a lot of important stuff. This on top of ten days worth of clothing, shoes, toiletries, swim suit, bedding, towels, etc. It’s a little stressful to make sure I don’t forget anything. If I forget a toothbrush, I can easily run to Wal*Mart. If I forget pain medication, we are in trouble.

The day before the trip, I had to visit the doctor for medication refills, count ALL my pills. (Fun fact: I will take about 110-120 pills during my 10 day trip.) And I had to pack and weigh my bags and then move medications and other items to mom’s bag because I was over the weight limit. Mom’s are great for those sorts of things.

So fast forward to security check. Here comes the girl with the small box attached to the inside of her waistband with wires going to her back and a knee brace with metal in it. The machine didn’t like it and found three “hot spots.” So the nice TSA lady explained that I needed further screening, which included a slight pat down and rubbing my hands with some sort of something. I still am not sure what she did, but I was cleared to go. 

It made me wonder about people with more serious conditions. What about people that need assistive devises to walk? Or people with prosthetic limbs? I’m just glad the TSA people were accommodating, with only a few strange looks. Let’s hope it goes that smoothly on the flight home.

I could have left my tens unit and brace in the bag and put them on after security, but I knew we would be rushed. And why should I have to change what I need for my medical conditions to accommodate the airport security. It may be my sassiness coming out, but I decided that they could accommodate me. I need to be as comfortable as I can be for being smushed in a plane for four hours. 

So here I sit, somewhere over what I am guessing is the midwest, hoping for a smooth, stress-free, and (almost) healthy adventure.

Las Vegas, Phoenix, and Las Cruces, here I come.

A calling to things I can't fulfill

The past three or so months have had such a concentrated amount of engagement, wedding, and pregnancy announcements - more than I remember there ever being at any point in my life. I think something is in the water, especially with all these new babies.

For the announcement of my sister's pregnancy, I couldn't have been more thrilled. After begging for a niece or nephew for five years, my sister was sitting in front of me telling me that I soon would be an aunt. I sobbed hysterically for a good five minutes repeatedly asking, "Are you really pregnant?" I could not have been more excited. Now, in about 13 weeks, I will get to hold sweet little Chase for the first time.

For all the other announcements/photos/cute proposal videos... it wasn't as fun. I felt emotions I didn't know existed. People reading this will probably say, "well of course you are jealous that it isn't you." Maybe, but I don't think that is entirely the issue. It could be jealousy, but a different kind. Because if I am experiencing jealousy, it is jealousy of something that may never happen.

Yes, I do realize that I am 21 years old - am I even a real adult yet? I realize I have my whole life ahead of me. I realize that just because everyone else is doing something doesn't mean it is the right thing for me in the moment. I know all of these things. It really isn't that.

It's that with every new life update or progression I see someone else experiencing, I am reminded of the struggle that I will have to overcome to reach that milestone.

(Clearly these baby announcements and engagements and weddings and family photos are about me. [Sarcasm.] I never said this post wasn't selfish.)

You see, from the time I was a toddler, one of my favorite games was house. One of my favorite toys was baby dolls. I carried a doll around all the time. I remember one time crying in the mall because a little boy picked up my baby doll, not in a proper way to hold a child, swung it around, and screamed, "IT NOT REAL!" I was in hysterics because to me, it was real. When I played house with my friends, I was always the mom. While everyone else wanted to pretend to be hungry babies, misbehaving children, or sassy teenagers, all I wanted was to be the mommy. (Either that, or I never let anyone else be the mom. I was kind of bossy too.)

My whole life, anytime I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I gave whatever career was most exciting at the time, and then followed it with, "and a mommy."

A princess...and a mommy.
A teacher...and a mommy.
A singer...and a mommy.
An actress...and a mommy.
An astronaut...and a mommy.
An astronomer...and a mommy.
A 4-H agent...and a mom.
A journalist...and a mom.
A Spanish teacher...and a mom.
A PR professional...and a mom.
And a mom.
A mom.
Mom.

It's always been important. But let me tell you something: I can't have kids. Let me clear what I mean when I say can't...

With current medicine and technology and my body's current medical state...

• There is a 50% chance of serious complications in pregnancy due to my aneurysm. This could be as simple as bed rest or as extreme as death by childbirth or anything in between. 
• There is a 50% chance of passing on my heart condition to my child.
• There is a 50% chance of passing on my connective tissue disorder to my child.
• I cannot, currently, deliver a child. I would have to give birth by scheduled c-section, possibly earlier than normal, and complications are highly possible.

Those numbers aren't fantastic. Knowing all of that, I cannot be at peace with the decision to naturally conceive and deliver a child. Because there are millions of what if scenarios...

What if my baby has every medical issue I have?
What if I die during pregnancy/birth leaving my child motherless and my husband a single father?
What if my baby has a worse form of my heart condition and needs surgery right away?
What if there is a complication during the c-section?
What if I need open heart surgery during my pregnancy?

There are a lot more of these swarming around in my head.

At 17, a doctor, not knowing I had never been told this, told me that I should not have children with my heart the way it is. Immediately tears brimmed my eyes and I looked to my mother who, wide-eyed, told the doctor that I had never been told that before. He apologized for the tone in which he said it, but he didn't seem to understand the hurt that he caused. Because as a junior in high school, I was now faced with something that I shouldn't have even had to think about until my mid-twenties.

This has affected my life more than you would think. In any serious dating relationship, children are brought up, and I have to tearfully explain why I may not be able to have children. This decision is one that should have been made with my future husband, but I feel that I made it alone at 17 years old. I know medicine could improve drastically, a cure could be found for my EDS, and I could have heart surgery... I know it could, but I know there is also another option: adoption.

Because somewhere out there will be a child or two or six who need my love. They won't come from my body. They won't be announced by a baby bump photo. I may not even know them until years after they are born. But oh, will they be loved. Because since before I could talk, I knew I wanted to be a mommy. Since before I even began seriously dating, I prayed to experience motherhood. I think God gave me this strong desire to be a mother because He knew if He created me wanting it badly enough, I could help Him provide love and home to some sweet baby or child who doesn't even yet exist. This is my calling. Not one I can fulfill, but only one that God, in His time, can make happen.

This is often one of my prayers, and this particular one was written down and placed in my adoption book about three years ago:

"God, I want to be a mother. Whether it be through childbirth, adoption, or some other way I am unaware of. I give this to you to do what is best for me."

So until my time comes, I have many things I can do...

• I can be happy for the newlyweds and new parents. Yes, they are one step closer than I am now and maybe further than I will ever be, but it is their time. Not mine. I will smile and say congratulations because this is one of the happiest moments of their life.
• I can remind myself that this is only the beginning. I am 21 years old. My friends are JUST now starting to have kids. As I get older, I have a feeling that this won't get easier for me. Because when my friends are all having babies #2 and #3, I may still be struggling to adopt.
• I can live in the now. I have a wonderful life and I want to enjoy it - this season, this moment. I don't want to waste my time wishing I was in another season of life.
• I can spoil my nephew. Since I found out my sister was pregnant, I have continually referred to Chase as "my baby." Stephanie has let me - because she knows my excitement and understands my struggle. She has invited me to be a part of the delivery - for which I am both thrilled and grateful since her experiences with childbirth and labor may be the only ones I get to have as well. This little boy is going to be so spoiled and so loved. Even if I never get to be a mommy, I will be the best aunt ever. 
• I can pray. For my future husband and his family - that they have a heart for adoption, as I do. For my future children - that God will work out His plan in His time. For my heart - that I will not be bitter while I wait for God, that I will become the type of woman who can be a godly and loving mother, and that I will feel happiness in every area of my current life.

This isn't an easy topic to talk about. It's sensitive, emotional, and real. I can talk about being sick anytime, but when it comes to babies, my heart is so full that my body has nothing else to do but let the tears fall from my eyes. I'm obviously not the first person to deal with this issue, but this is my first time dealing with it. 

So I'm just doing the best I can and I will let God do the rest. 

Do you want to get well?

We have all probably heard the story of the man who was healed by the Pool of Bethesda. There was this magic pool and when the water stirred, the first person to get into the water was healed. Jesus visited this place one day and he notices a man off to the side. This particular man had been sick for 38 years. 38 years of lying by this magic pool, watching everyone else be made well. So Jesus approached him and asked him a simple question, "Do you want to be made well?"

Duhhhh. Right? Of course he wanted to be healed. Who wouldn't after a lifetime of a crippling disease? Who wouldn't want to walk again? Who wouldn't want to not be sick? In the end, Jesus heals him and he goes on his merry way.

I recently read this story with a Bible study that I attend and our discussion leader brought up an interesting point: What did healing mean for this man? Because the moment Jesus healed him, his life was never the same. All he knew how to do was to be sick, lay by a magic pool, and rely on the kindness of strangers to survive. But as an able bodied, perfectly healthy man, what changed? Did he get a job, have a family, travel, go to school, learn a trade, accomplish the things he had always dreamed of, and do the things he never could because of his illness?

If I were given this same choice, what would change for me? What does a healthy Stacie do? I think a healthy Stacie would take more risks. She would stay out later. She would eat more ice cream. She wouldn't take almost 100 pills a week. She would travel, oh she would travel: to Arizona, Washington, Iowa, Colorado, Alaska, Mexico, Costa Rica, Paris, London, Spain, Africa; she would see the world. A healthy Stacie would get married without the fear of health concerns, money to pay for medications, and the fear of a pregnancy that could kill her. She would have babies - three, and then adopt two more; because she has a lot of love to share. She would live.

But if Jesus himself asked me, "Do you, Stacie, want to get well?" what would I say? Would I drop the life I know and love for one that appears to be full of promise and health? What would my new life bring? Would I forget all the turmoil I have been through, all the pain I have felt, all the tears I have cried? Would I forget the fatigue, the chronic pain, the ER visits, the nausea, the needles, the tests, the loud MRIs, the cold stickers on my chest, the wooshing of my heart on the echo machine, the prayers sent up for healing? What would become of all that I have lived so far? Would I be a story of hope or would I take for granted my new found health?

Even if Jesus himself asked me this question, I don't know that I could say yes.

Despite the pain, the medications, the fatigue, the nausea, the popping and aching joints, the blown ligaments, the heating pads, the ice packs, the constant sickness, the ER visits, the bi-monthly doctor appointments, the sadness, and the tearful prayers, I love the life I have been blessed with. I have a wonderful family, supportive friends, the intelligence and ambition to go to school, the ability to have a part time job, multiple Bible studies to attend and learn a lot at, amazing Christians surrounding me in encouragement and prayer, love, laughter, happiness, and an all-powerful, merciful, compassionate Heavenly Father.

My illness gives me a unique perspective on life: thankfulness for each day that I wake up, appreciation for every moment with low pain, a love for life, a desire to do my best at everything I am able to do, a longing to share love with those around me, constant awe over medical innovations, a hope for my future, and the comfort that I am right where I am supposed to be.

I used to pray for physical healing. In the last year or so, I have stopped, and instead now pray for peace of heart and mind, patience to deal with my struggles, and a desire to never give up. It's not that I don't believe God can heal me; I know He is more than able. It's just that I don't know that He will. This is the life I have been given. Things can get better, things can change, but struggles may never fully disappear. God must think that I have something to gain through my illness and something to share through my struggles.

And so unless He decides, in His time, to make me well, I won't be wasting mine wishing my less than healthy days away. This is my life and I will embrace it.