Resolutions - Lydia

Since this is the time that you hear talk of New Year's resolutions, I've got an accomplishment story for you.

Meet my friend, Lydia!
Lydia started 2013 with a resolution to run. Yep, she made the decision to run in a race per month. Twelve months later, she is a success story!!
When she contacted me with the idea of a photo shoot to celebrate her accomplishments, I was so excited! First, I was so proud of her for accomplishing her goal. Second, what a great idea to celebrate! :)

Congratulations, Lydia!!! I hope you have just as much success in 2014!

Did I mention that she ran a few with the cutest running parners!?

I cried today

Today, I cried.
From deep down inside my heart, I cried.

For those of us who value that responsibility, the burdens of motherhood are sometimes heavy.

When my first child was born, I was young and nervous. However, once I got past the initial nerves, I felt pretty confident in my parenting skills. After all, she was a lot like me and my parents did a good job!
I, sometimes, had to step out of my comfort zone for beauty pageants and social activities. But, overall, I was pretty comfortable until the rebellious teenage years. And, what parent is comfortable then, right?
Was I perfect? No way. Did I feel like a failure sometimes? Absolutely. But with every failure, there was recovery. I picked myself up and kept on going. I didn’t stay in the pit. I got back up, knowing that I had done my best, and moved on.

Then came my second child. She was always an original...marching to her own special beat even before she was born. :)
She made her appearance a few weeks early. Delivery wasn’t smooth. (I suppose it’s never a good thing to hear the doctor yell, “stat!”)  Fortunately, I am here to write this now.
Unfortunately, my new baby girl was struggling to breathe. She was put in an oxygen tent but it wasn’t enough. She needed to be transferred to a bigger hospital with a NICU.
She was born on the Friday before Mother’s Day. I spent Mother’s Day wishing that I could hold my newborn baby. It was tough watching her struggle. Little did I know that this was only the beginning.

Since then, we’ve faced lots of challenges and we continue to overcome obstacles slowly but surely.
During all of this, I have been my child’s biggest advocate…building her up, protecting her, encouraging her and trying my best to teach her by immersing myself in her world.

All that comes with a heavy price, especially when you are a mom AND a perfectionist. You see, perfectionism doesn’t mean that SHE has to be perfect. It means that I have an inner drive telling ME that I must be as perfect as I can, which is probably not perfect enough. My failures are magnified.
In motherhood, that manifests itself a lot in the blame game. What am I doing wrong? How am I failing my child? Why can’t I see the right direction? Why can’t I be better!?

With the testing misdiagnosis, I became quite discouraged as to where to turn for help. I was in the pit.
Fortunately, God put someone in my life who had the knowledge I needed for guidance and someone who was able to gain my trust.
After talking to this person last night for some direction, I woke today feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders…

…And then it hit me like a ton of bricks!!  The emotion of relief flooded my eyes with tears. Why was I being so hard on myself?!

(I can’t even write this part without crying…)

For this first time in YEARS, I could stop questioning “Why can‘t I make it better?” and I can see that it is better! I don’t have to feel guilty that I am not doing right and I can see where I am doing right. I can see that instead of questioning why I am not doing more, I can see how much I have done.

The tears fall from deep within…a raw emotional hurting part of my heart. What I asked for was direction. What a got was freedom from a heavy burden! 

This is a quick snapshot but I thought it was so fitting.  We were rushing out the door to get to a 4-H Regional competition but she stopped to draw the roses.  How beautiful is that??!! :)

Halloween, Fall/Harvest Festival...Whatever you call it...I call it Family Fun!

When I was a kid, I remember going a few places to get candy on the night of October 31. It wasn't really a big deal. Quite frankly, being forced to suffer through wearing those hot cheap plastic masks where you had to be stuck with the dampness of your own breath pressing against you wasn't my idea of a good time. Of course, my parents weren't into the whole thing so it wasn't very important anyway.

Then I got to be the parent! :)

I am dramatic by nature. By that I mean, I LOVE to dress up in characters, love being onstage (or pretty much anywhere that I can be a character) and I have a huge imagination when it comes to dressing up. The one thing that I didn't have was money...But I wasn't going to let a little thing like that stop me. Besides, buying a costume at the store meant that you were dressed just like someone else...and I didn't want to be like anybody else! :) So...The tradition started...
My kids have rarely had bought outfits. Their outfits have been made, pieced together and/or gathered on a minimum budget. It started out with the love of a Momma wanting her children to enjoy the fun of dressing up as a favorite character even when I couldn't afford anything. My kids have always seemed to enjoy their creative costumes. If they ever felt bad about it, then it didn't show. In fact, they seem(ed) quite proud to show off their "original" looks.
The kids had their costumes. I had my costume. And, over the years, we were able to convince Daddy to join the show. The holiday became less about the holiday or the candy and more about the family experience. When my youngest daughter got her dog, our list of characters expanded. She insisted that her dog needed a costume as well. And, if her dog had a costume, then the others needed a costume too. (Didn't want anyone to be jealous, right?) So, as our family expanded so did our celebration!

My youngest daughter has had lots of challenges in life. She's extremely creative and talented...although most people never get to see it.
Each year, she gets to pick a character for Mommy to transform her into. (One year she even developed her very own character and I made her vision come to life.) It's so much fun to watch her eyes the first time she tries on the outfit and looks in the mirror! She literally lights up and, at the moment, every hand-stitch is more than worth it! My daughter has a very limited emotional set but, as she sees herself as her hero/favorite animal/etc., I see a spark that is absolutely priceless!

Some years, we do several outfits...which is LOTS of work! This year, she wanted only one...
Even though I had already picked out characters for her Hubby and me, my youngest daughter came up with the idea of superheros. She wanted to be her favorite superhero and her dog would be the sidekick.

The challenge was issued. It was a challenge indeed. #1...We had no budget for this endeavor (as in almost nothing to spare at all). But, there was also the challenge of finding seven superheros that would fit the need. Yes, I said seven! The three of us and then we can't forget the dogs! I went to work finding scraps of material around the house...things that I could destroy in the name of creativity...cardboard, old headbands, toilet paper rolls, old costumes, etc. I gathered together everything that I could find and pushed my creativity to meet the challenge. I ended up needed to purchase only a few items...some small felt pieces, a remnant of red material, some gold ribbon and glue sticks (I ran out!). Then, there were a few clothing items that were purchased and can be worn again...a Superman shirt, red leggings and a red shirt. I think that's everything. I managed to spend so very little...even my hubby was nice enough to expand my budget if I needed. However, I insisted that I do everything on the tightest budget possible. I was a woman on a mission!

I usually schedule a "photo shoot" on October 31. Since the weather is forecasting bad weather, we went ahead and quickly got our costumes on for some very quick photos (before I had to rush somewhere else...covered in glitter...lol!) just in case we didn't get to get anymore later. There are still a few finishing touches that need to be done but you get the idea.

So here's this year's cast of characters ~

I have NO IDEA why this is blue here...It's totally black on my computer and other places.  It looks NOTHING like this!!  :/

Straight from a mother's heart

As my darling daughter sleeps, I am sitting here thinking over how I can make her life better. With tears in my eyes, I overview the past few years and recall the issues that cause my pain. My daughter is different. She learns differently. She acts differently. She is uniquely herself! :)

You see, her learning disabilities were evident to me early. It took me awhile to convince my husband that they were there. Then there was the road to a diagnosis. We had to deal with an inconsiderate teacher who had been informed that we were seeking medical answers for our daughter's learning style but still felt it appropriate to keep harping on the fact that our daughter was "in the bottom of the class," while my daughter played only a few feet away. Then we had to go through a series of all-day tests only to find out that the diagnosis we were given was useless (ADHD with math deficiency). I knew it was wrong. I had experience with ADHD children and knew that wasn't the issue. Our families didn't see it. I was told by one person that I just needed to accept the fact that she wasn't perfect accept the diagnosis. I guess, the fact that I excelled at learning and was raising an older daughter, who was in gifted classes, gave them the right (in their opinion) to (incorrectly) judge my motivation. Who said she wasn't perfect? She was to me! She was perfect just like she was and I wanted the key into her world!!
When I presented our regular doctor with the results, she agreed. She suggested dyslexia. Her office tried to find a way to get her tested and diagnosed officially but the very expensive and hours away testing centers didn't accept our insurance (I hear this is quite common.). It didn't matter. After an indepth study of dyslexia, I cried. The information described her learning so perfectly.
By this point we had decided that homeschooling was best. We had watched our vibrant happy daughter disappear into a shell that didn't even include talking to us. Homeschooling has been such a blessing! I am a former teacher so I had to push myself to combine what I knew with the unknown of a new style of learning. I accepted the challenge with conviction and enjoyed seeing the beauty of every success no matter how big or small.

Now we are once again faced with a challenge. Life has never been easy for my precious one. My heart aches as I see other developmental differences that I feel can no longer be contributed to simply shyness. So, once again, I am faced with the search for another key.
 I feel so alone. It's not that my hubby doesn't support me...but I am the one with the education in this area...I am the one who is with her most of the time...I am the one charged with opening the doors. Sometimes I feel that all I can do is pray... The weight is so much that I don't know what else to do. I feel like the weight of her future is crushing down on my shoulders and I struggle to keep moving forward.

It is this background that leaves me feeling excluded from the world. Everything moves at a different pace for my daughter and me. I immerse myself in her world...and when she is alone...I am alone...

I really wish those around me understood that.

Dear People,

While you were applauding your child for making the football team, cheerleading squad, dance troupe, acting ensemble, pageant winner...I wish you had taught your children to accept those who are different...to embrace the individuality of others...to reach out to those who seem lost. I wish you had taught your child to be kind and see value in those who are unique (in ways that the world might not appreciate) while you were teaching your child to excel where all can see their success.
Instead, you have taught your child to follow the leader. You have taught your child that different is only good when you are better than others. 

I made it a point to teach my oldest daughter not to judge a book by its cover. I taught her not to treat others unkindly because of their clothing, their accent, their skin color or the fact that they were shy. I taught her to appreciate diversity rather than shun it.

You see, I've seen my youngest daughter around others. I've seen how she doesn't follow the crowd so she is left behind. I watch her play by herself and no one reach out to include her. Not only have I watched that, dear adults, but I've seen the looks that I get from you. The looks that scoff me for not raising my daughter to be like everyone else. (Not that I could do that with her unique personality) The looks that blame me because she doesn't act like what they think she should. The looks that label me unfriendly because I don't join in idle chatter...when at that time, it may be that I am the only one befriending my daughter.

Even those who call themselves Christian had rather turn their heads than open their hearts...

My heart aches that WE can't be accepted for who we are. My heart aches that others can't see the wonderful beauty who is my daughter. My heart aches that I can't give her a world that is more friendly to her uniqueness.

My tears flow not because she is different...but because, unfortunately, the world is not...

Signed: A mother's heart 

One Week

Well, Boston has been with us for two weeks now. :)

Here's a recap of Week One.
So what has Boston been doing???? 

Playing with Mommy

Hanging out with Daddy

Dragging toys all over the house :)

Chewing on sticks

And digging...but this is not an approved activity :/

Most of all, he's adjusting wonderfully to his new family and we are enjoying having him!  I think he's taken just fine to the spoiling that he gets as part of our household.  :)

Boston Dillinger

Introducing our new addition...our Boston Dillinger! :)

With my hubby's 15 year old lab mix getting near then end of his life, we had talked about the addition of another dog. (My sister got me a dog after my cat of 11 years was diagnosed with kidney failure and not expected to live long. My cat lasted six months and my dog was such a comfort when I had to let her go. From a personal perspective, I wanted that kind of comfort for my hubby who was already struggling with the thoughts of letting go.)
We discussed many breeds...We discussed gender, color, personality...We wanted to find the perfect fit. We finally decided that we would get a boston terrier. My hubby had owned a boston mix before and I thought they were adorable so that decision was made. Then we decided on a male...since we've had better experiences with male dogs. We even decided on the name...Dillinger...unique and very masculine. :)
It would be several months before we would be able to add to our family. After all, finding a boston terrier to adopt was proving to be next-to-impossible...with all their hoops to jump through, the distances and the long line of adopters. There was always the breeder route...which we looked into too. I personally wasn't wanting a puppy since I didn't want to go through that stage...but my hubby disagreed there...So that one was kinda undecided. Whatever the case, all of them would require money that we don't have to spend right now so we were content to wait.
That was until my hubby saw a litter of cute little beagle mix puppies. (No, beagles weren't even on our list. And we don't even know what the daddy is.) The mother dog had been abandoned while pregnant. A stray, she found shelter in the form of a neighbor's porch. My hubby told me about the litter and how cute they were. I reminded him that beagles weren't the type of dog that we were looking for (there were several reasons that I had NOT to have a beagle) and this would be our last dog for a long time so we needed to be picky. But he couldn't stop thinking about one of the pups in particular. He was even more concerned when he was told that the mother dog was gone...It was suspected that she was killed. I finally told him that I would support whatever decision he made. He came home several days empty handed. I had come to the conclusion that he had decided not to get one of the abandoned pups when he showed up with an adorable little handful of cuteness!

Here are some images from his first night with us...

When Boston had just arrived, this is the first image I took.  I didn't even have my camera settings the way I wanted but I quickly snapped the shot knowing that it would be a moment to remember.

Asleep in his new "Daddy's" arms. :)

So adorable from head to spotted toes! :)

Randomness:
 *I had joked that we could always get a black/white dog and name it Boston if we couldn't get a boston terrier...So we combined Boston with the name that we were going to use for our boston terrier, Dillinger...and he became "our Boston Dillinger."
*His exact age is not known but we believe him to be about 7 weeks when he came to live with us last week...which would make him a whopping 8 weeks old now.
*He doesn't look like a beagle puppy...so I get lots of strange looks when I tell people he's a beagle mix. 
*Boston is fitting into our family wonderfully! He and my hubby seemed to have an immediate bond.
*I can see how happy Boston makes my hubby and that makes me happy.
*Although he is starting to show his little stubborn side, his personality is mostly sweet and easy-going.
*He's proving to be a very smart little one.
*He's a little thing. :)
*He found a pillow and claimed it when he got here. It says "Angel."
*This week he showed me his new skill...digging. :/
*There wasn't a lot about him that fit "my list"...but I love him anyway! ♥

Featured POTD

My image, "Puppy Love," is being featured today as PhotoShowdown.com's Featured Photo of the Day.

This little fellow was staying with my family after a rough start in life. We were getting him healthy so that he could find a family to cherish him. Over the years, my family and I have "fostered" MANY animals. We've always done it as individuals so we are doing it using our own money and out of the kindness of our hearts. Each one makes an impression as we care for them...even if it is only for a short period of time. However, this little fellow made a lasting impression. I can honestly say that he was the one foster that I've missed the most.

Shelter? Rescue? Breeder? What does it matter?

Inquiry: Just wanting to know if y'all still had [insert dog name].
Response: You are one day too late. [insert dog name] is going to a rescue group. She is scheduled to be moved next week.

 _____________________________________________________________________

Do you mind if I vent a little?  There is a new trend that is getting on my very last nerve and I am tired of saying nothing.  Sit back...This one's doing to be a long one!!

I have been a huge advocate for shelter dogs.  In fact, my very first dog that I owned was a rescue.  He has since passed.  I am  now surrounded in my home by beautiful spoiled rotten rescues (3 dogs and 2 cats) of one type or another.  Many dogs and cats have called my house home for long enough to rehab and go to a new home.  Rescuing is in my DNA.  I have helped every critter that I could ever since I could imagine.  I have promoted the fact that my furry babies are rescues.  I have recommended and networked for rescues/shelters.  You get the picture...I am BIG on rescuing!

However, my love affair with rescues/shelters is growing cold.  I have seen way too many inquiries and responses like the one above.  It seems to me that shelters have become a 'shopping' ground for rescues.  It's like those people who have consignment sales (yard sales) but the first day is only for certain people and the leftovers are for everyone else...but worse, because these are little lives!

In addition, I have frequently seen people inquiring about adopting an animal only to be told that the animal is being shipped north for adoption.  In fact, one of our local "rescues" doesn't even show up as in the area for adoptions on sites like Petfinder.  Why?  Because they list the northern location where they want to find adopters...not the actual location of the pet!  I am so sure that they are thinking of the animal's welfare by subjecting it to a long transport to a strange place.  I have actually seen them go as far as to discourage local adoptions by being negative to interested persons by indicating that northern adopters are better than local ones. And they base that assumption on what???  Those adopters sending a smiling picture when the dog arrives?  Because I doubt there is much contact after that in most cases.

There are those who would say that moving them to rescues is the best for the dog because rescues can screen the potential adopters better.  Yeah.  They ask lots of questions and make you sign something that says you are telling the truth.  Then there is the vet reference.  If you never vet your animals, then you make a great first time owner, right?  Shall we continue to the clause that REQUIRES if you don't want the dog anymore that you return it to them.  Ellen Degeneres got on the wrong side of this clause which made big news.  They adopt the dog to you...give you ownership, with strings attached.  I have a problem with that. If I own the dog, then I am responsible for his/her welfare.  Am I responsible enough to take care of the animal or not?  One of the dogs in my pack has lived in three homes in my family...but he is home with my family!  All of the other homes cared for him, but he found the right fit in my home. 
Perhaps that is why they do home visits.  The irony of the home visit to me is that I look at my home (which is usually in some form of disarray between photography, homeschooling, acting, extra school activities, etc.).  Then I look at other homes (all beautiful in their decorating and cleaning).  I am not saying that it is fact but I do have to admit that I would be somewhat hesitant of a home visit because my low-key lifestyle cannot compare to the more high-key lifestyles of others that I know.  However, I also know that the love of a pet cannot be judged by lifestyle.  My babies are much more cared for (and spoiled) than many of the animals of others with more outwardly better lifestyles and more financial resources.  While this step in the process is done with their heart in the right place (I believe), it may discourage those who would be uncomfortable opening their homes to such scrutiny...not to mention, it limits the area that the rescue can cover...which brings me to the next gripe.
I hear over and over again that, no matter what breed of dog that you want, you can find them in a shelter/rescue.  This attitude is heard often to encourage adoption over shopping (buying from a breeder).  Unfortunately, this is true and false all at the same time.  True: You can find most breeds.  Less True:  You can find purebreeds (sometimes not always)...There are LOTS of dog breeds and some of them are quite obscure.  False:  You can adopt them.  FINDING an animal does not mean ADOPTING an animal. 
Years ago, I was searching Petfinder and found a dog that was exactly what I was looking for.  The drive would have been a few hours.  I contacted the shelter and talked to them about the dog.  I was ready to make the trip.  However, they adopted on a first-come, first-served basis.  As I was making plans to make a trip, someone else adopted the dog.  (Thank goodness I contacted the shelter before leaving!)  I have actually never found another dog like that dog within a decent distance.  It's a good thing that I moved on and opened myself to something new.  (I adopted a beautiful girl that I felt an immediate connection with using Craigslist.)  It would be hard to be looking for a certain breed and driving long distances to visit shelter after shelter only to be told that the dog was already gone. 
This is where rescues score points.  I notice many of them have online adoption forms.  I would be inclined to deal with a rescue that offered this option.  (This would lessen the investment if I wasn't going to "pass" the initial process anyway.) 
Many people complain about the cost of adopting from a rescue.  I, too, at one time thought that was expensive.  Then I calculated the cost of buying, getting shots and spaying/neutering (a must for me) a pet.  By that time, the cost (within reason) wasn't so bad.  So, with that hurdle crossed, I started searching to see what I could find.  My hubby's dog is very old and declining.  He has often told stories of a certain childhood dog and mentioned that he wanted a similar dog someday.   So, I went on a search.  The breed was apparently quickly snatched up by rescue groups which wasn't a problem.  The problem was that the rescue groups required home visits (with a certain radius).  That one won't work.  The other one outright said that it didn't service anyone outside their immediate area.  Ok...Moving on.  Wait...That was it.  Those were the options.

OR was it?

I could buy from a breeder!  I actually know a man who responsibly breeds his animals.  I'd never considered this option as seriously before.  Breeders are made out to be such bad people for overpopulating the earth with unwanted dogs.  But there are some responsible ones out there!!  And there are some reasons for using them. 
People with allergies have to be careful with what breed they choose. 
People who cannot find a specific breed to rescue in their area.  Let me stop here for a minute.  Some people whine that there are lots of dogs in shelters to rescue and people shouldn't be so picky.  I disagree!  Picking a dog to fit your specific lifestyle requires the elimination of certain breeds.  There are several breeds that do not work with our lifestyle.  For instance, we had a certain breed dog one time.  She became increasingly agitated as she grew older.  We were giving her exercise, discipline, affection, etc.  She was still destructive and unhappy.  We finally visited a lady (along with our dog) who had worked MANY years in rescue and talked with her about our dog.  Her conclusion:  The dog would not be happy where we lived.  The dog needed to live in the country.  We were heartbroken but when the dog went to live in the country, she was happy.  We kept in touch and saw her transformation.

Every dog doesn't fit every lifestyle.  So, yes, we are picky when we add a new family member...because we want happy forever pets!

Whatever way you bring a pet into your home, my advice is:
Do your homework.
Find a pet that fits your lifestyle.  
Search your options.
If you can rescue, do.  If you can't, buy responsibly!
And, most of all, LOVE YOUR FUR-BABIES like the precious loving creatures that they are and enjoy your life together!!!  We all deserve a love like that! ♥

    

Mom-ents

This has been a very emotional weekend for me.

Friday, my little girl turned 11 years old and we celebrated.  Not only was it her birthday but her birthday wish had come true:  Her big sister came to see her.  (We haven't seen her since Christmas time.)  I cannot tell you how much I enjoyed seeing the joy on her face when her sister surprised us.  I cannot tell you the joy that I felt having both of my girls with me. 

I couldn't help but think back to the year that my youngest daughter was born.  She was welcomed into this world on a Friday.  I remember the feel of her warm skin against mine.  I remember the joy of meeting her in person.  I also remember the tension as complications threatened my life.  I also remember the doctor telling us that something was wrong and that she would be transferred to a neonatal unit over an hour away.  I remember the heartbreak of watching my baby leave.  I remember the reluctance of the doctor as he released me against what he would have done otherwise.  I remember the smell of the neonatal unit.  I remember holding to the few moments that we were allowed to see her for the next few days.

I remember Mother's Day.  I remember the hurt of not being able to hold my newborn baby in my arms.  I remember the pain of our family being separated.  I remember the sadness of not being near either of my girls for long enough.

I tried to enjoy every minute of being around my girls this weekend...because I knew that it was limited.  I needed to hold onto that joy.

I remember being a young mom and holding my babies.  I remember how being a mother was the best thing ever!  I remember feeling love that I had never known.  I remember holding them and never wanting to let them go...

I wish those moments lasted forever...

Because I still want to hold them and never let go...

the relaxing squirrel

Last week I looked out my window to see this squirrel lounging in the tree. I figured that he wouldn't stay long enough for me to get my camera but he did. Then I thought I was pushing my luck to step out onto the porch but still he remained. He even humored me long enough for me to change position (to the walkway off the porch to get another perspective). I was struck by his calm relaxed state.

For as long as I can remember (literally), I have been a type A personality. My earliest memories are caring (and feeling responsible)for my baby sister. My personality has always been one of responsibility and obligations. 

Last year, I found myself in a particularly negative place in my life. There have been some real lows in my life that have led to depression but this was simply negative. I felt negative. My happiness was disappearing. The bad moments were clearly outweighing the good times. 

I had lost my best friend when she moved away. I found myself uncomfortable in the places that had always been my comfort zones. I felt lost, abandoned, alone... I felt that my home was the only safe place left. 

Of course, I still had my faith in God but I had no idea which direction to turn. When right and wrong is clear, it's easy for me to decide what to do. This situation was not so clear. People were disguising their actions with lies and deceit. People that I thought I knew had turned into deceptive strangers. 

Then my health decided to add its opinion..and it was not good. The stress was taking a huge toll on my health. With two very dangerous diseases, which react negatively to stress, I was literally endangering my future...my life! 

Something had to change. I decided that the change would be in me. 

For my Christmas present to myself, I purchased three books to start me on my journey. I admit that I have only read two so far but the first book I read made an impact. It was a book called BOUNDARIES by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend. It was suggested to me by a friend on Facebook. (I am so thankful to that friend!) It gave me the permission that I was needing to set up boundaries in my life...to stand up for myself (not only physically and emotionally) but to allow myself not to obligate myself to try and help those who only wanted to hurt...to let go of the responsibility I felt to make things better when the stress was hurting me. It gave me permission to acknowledge my stress as my body's way of telling me that I needed to let go and not obligate myself to the negativity. 

 My goal for myself this year is learning to let go of the negative in my life. I want to be the squirrel casually resting on the tree branch without an apparent care in the world. 

I am not so good at it yet. But I'm better than I was! :)

PKD: My story

March is National Kidney Month. Yeah, I know...Everything has a month these days. Truth is that donating a month to the awareness of anything is nice but it doesn't do much if you don't have a personal interest in that subject.
Well, this month I do have a special interest due to three letters...PKD.
Don't know what PKD is?  It's polycystic kidney disease.  I don't know of ever not knowing what it is. It has been a part of my life for as long as I remember.

My daddy's dad had it.  He died in his thirties leaving my three year old dad and his siblings without a father.  Of course, I never knew him.
My daddy was diagnosed and told that he would have to slow down.  You see, it is believed that the disease progresses similar in relatives.  My daddy's didn't.  He showed them!  He didn't let his disease overcome him but rather fought through the difficulties.  He eventually had to go on dialysis.  A few years ago, he was blessed to receive a kidney transplant.

For as long as I remember, I have had to take care of my kidneys.  The problems started when I was a very small child.  I ended up being subjected to constant tests, medicines for years, frequent specialist/doctor visits, a couple of hospital visits...all before I was in the middle of elementary school.  I don't remember a time when I felt normal. 
Things got better.  I graduated high school and went to college without much difficulty.  I excelled in school and graduated with honors.  I had a dream of success and I set out to conquer the world my way!

After school, I moved away from home a few states away...Big mistake, but a learning experience.  During that time, I was hospitalized.  It was guessed that I developed a kidney infection from drinking water that my body was accustomed to consuming.  During that hospital stay, I was told that my kidneys looked clear...no PKD.  Since I was in my 20s, if it was going to show, it should have shown by then.  I felt a sigh a relief.
Life went on.  I had a daughter, moved back home and started a new life.  Although I continued to care for my kidneys (it was almost routine at this point), I lived under the impression that I wouldn't have to face the ugliness of PKD in my own body.

I met and married the man of my dreams...literally, but that's another story! ;)  Then a few weeks after we were married, a doctor's visit for side pain turned my life upside down.
I knew there was something wrong by watching the face of the examiner.  I've learned to read faces when I go for tests.  The human face finds it harder to conceal things than does silence of the lips.  Without a word, I could see something wasn't right. 
I was right.  Once the doctor saw the film, she asked me if I knew about polycystic kidney disease.  There it was...those three letters: PKD!  Of course, I knew.  I felt hostility every time I heard the words...those letters.  But this time the hostility was joined by hurt and numbness.
I remember coming home to my hubby of only a few weeks and crying.  I just kept crying.  Crying because of the shock.  Crying because I had my little girl to care for.  Crying because I didn't want my hubby and my daughter to live with the constant heaviness that those three letters represented in my life.  Crying because it was the only thing that I could bear to do.  ...And he just held me...
At least my lifestyle was already pretty PKD-friendly, so I didn't have to alter much there.  I simply had to accept what I couldn't change and pray that God would help me.  I thought that having PKD was the worst.  It makes me feel like a ticking time bomb.  It makes me have to work at controlling everything I do or consume.  It was more mentally heavy at the time than anything.

Unfortunately, my nightmare would continue to get worse.  When my daughter was in the 6th grade, she was diagnosed with PKD.  Now that tore my life apart.  It's one thing to know the heaviness of an incurable disease.  It's another to deal with the overwhelming guilt of passing that own to someone that you love without all your heart.  The next weeks and months were torture.  I won't go into details but it's hard to help someone accept something that you have a hard time accepting yourself.

I wish I could end this by telling you that everything is all better now...but I can't.  PKD is still there.  It still has no cure.  It fills me with a smaller level of hostility...but, to be perfectly honest, the hostility isn't gone.  Those three letters have been a dark cloud in my life by threatening the lives of those I love and even my own.  I don't think a love of PKD would be possible.  It's a terrible disease and I want to see it gone!!  But I have developed a tolerance. 
I live with PKD.  Did you get that...I LIVE with PKD.  While it may dictate some things that I do in life, it doesn't rule my life.  I make the choice to cooperate with PKD to make the most of the life that I have.  After all, God created me.  So, He knows what is best for me.  And with Him running my life, I'll do the best that I can.  As the years progress, I have to continue to make modifications but I am thankful that I have the time to make them. 
I don't know what the future holds.  I've been told that my disease should mirror my dad's...But that didn't happen in his case....And I'm a GIRL (big difference on the internal design all you high paid specialists!!).
It has taken me over 12 years to share this story.  But I am convinced that if you don't see a person behind the cause that it doesn't mean as much.  So, here I am!  A face of PKD!  A mom, a wife, a friend, a person...a fighter!  So, take that PKD!!!

To learn more about PKD, visit the Polycystic Kidney Disease Foundation at http://www.pkdcure.org