The seizure

It was September 17, 2009.

It is a hard day to remember.

It was 7:05 am and I dropped by my boss’s office to say good morning and then take my lunch to the lunch room, but I never made it there.  I glanced at the clock and remember thinking, “It is only 7:10 am and I am getting a really bad migraine.”  That was the last thing I remember until 7:55 am.

I had a seizure.  Apparently my lunch box flew.  I went face down onto the cement floor and seized.  My chin ripped open in the fall, I broke four teeth, and I stopped breathing.  Thankfully my boss was there.  She got help, I got CPR, and the ambulance came.  Someone frantically called my husband, who had stayed home that day, and woke him up.  He said it was a horrible thing to wake up to a phone call from your wife’s work.  The first thing I remember is the paramedic asking me who the President of the United States was.  I answered his question and said, “Can we move on?”  I had been answering the questions but I have no recollection of it at all.  How can our brains do that?  I don’t know.

But as we drove to the ER, I realized that something bad had happened.  And I was 14 weeks pregnant with my first child.  I wasn’t worried about me, I was worried that I had ruined my child.  I was worried about my husband driving to see me, I was worried that I was going to have to be making some crazy phone calls and yet, I didn’t even remember what happened.

It was a really hard day and a really humbling day to realize that life is so precious.  One minute I am saying good morning and then I am sitting in the ER the next.  Everything turned out just fine.  My baby girl was just fine (good thing I had some nice padding for her!), my chin got stitched up, I spent a lot of time at the dentist, and I was not allowed to drive or be by myself for a period of time.  It was another part of the humbling experience.  My independence was suddenly taken away from me.  I felt like I needed to process what was going on, but I was always with someone.  I am so grateful for so many people who helped me during that time.  I am grateful for Val, Doug, Scott, Terrie, Denise, Eric, and our parents who would call and check up on me from time to time.  Part of me realized that I was learning a big lesson, but the other part of me still didn’t grasp what had happened.

Through all the neurological testing that came after, there were NO answers.  It was a “fluke” and because they couldn’t figure it out they wanted to put me on high doses of medication that I felt that I didn’t need.  I didn’t take anything, I didn’t have any more seizures, but the memory of that day lives on.

The question for me was never, “Why Me?” but the question has always been “Why am I still here?”  I don’t think that I have all the answers to that question still.  Seven years later and I am still finding daily little puzzle pieces, but I am so grateful for the time I have been given.  I try hard to send something to my two heroes that saved me that day, but I don’t feel like it is ever enough.  How can you truly give something back to people that gave you your life back?

I am thankful for that day, seven years ago when I was able to remember that my life is in the hands of God.  I am thankful for that day, and for the many blessings and miracles that I have been able to be a part of.  I am thankful for that day, and for the many days that have happened after.  But most of all, I am thankful for life, for God, and for His love for me.  I have felt His love for me, in many tender times.  I am grateful that He is there for me, even when I turn away from Him and need to humble myself to feel His hand in my life.  What a blessing to have many hands lifting me up so many times. I use this day to remember the many people in my life, who have lifted me up and who continue to lift me up.  Thank you.


What’s in a Name

You might be wondering how I came up with the name of my blog.  Well, you are in luck, let me tell you about it! I read a book by Mitch Albom a long time ago, called “For One More Day”.  One part talked about how our own story starts with our mom’s story and that the reason we want to go home is not to see how it is always the same but to see how the trees have grown.  So when I was contemplating a blog I was talking to my husband about a name for my creation.  I kept coming up with silly names involving freckles or something weird with red hair (because I have both), but then he reminded me that I don’t ever talk highly of my freckles and I really wouldn’t want to be known as the red head girl that hated her freckles. Being the wonderful husband that he is, he helped me out.  He mentioned fireworks and socks. These two seemingly unrelated words to you, have tons of meaning for us, but I felt like it was missing something, so lemonade came into play. Then my literary husband also helped with the placement of the words, so it “sounded” correct!

Fireworks. Scott and I knew each other for awhile before we ever went on a date which was completely fine.  When we did go out, it was not love at first sight for either of us; actually, he got sick on our first date.  NO, I didn’t make him sick but he got sick from the frozen custard that he ate…so understandably he wasn’t super excited to ask me out again.  Anyway, a few weeks later a mutual friend we had invited me to a firework celebration and I in turn asked Scott to come.  So we went to the firework show together and met up with our friend, who we pretty much ignored the whole night.  The short of the story is Scott saw “fireworks” that night, not just lighting up the night, but lighting up our relationship. Scott actually wrote a song for me entitled, “Fireworks,” when we were dating.  Now if that is not one way to a woman’s heart, I don’t know what is.  He wrote it, performed it, burned it on a CD and gave it to me as a present! The lyrics now sit on the top of our piano!


Socks. I have long loved crazy and fun socks.  Seriously, who doesn’t like to wear fun socks?! Scott knew about my sock craziness and previous to our firework date, bought some socks for the occasion!  How sweet!  To this day, 10 years later he ALWAYS gets me socks for Christmas (even though I don’t really need them)! He is great!  After we had been married a couple of years, Scott wrote another song about how we met and all the funny things that happened.  Part of the lyrics say, “Who’d have thought we bond over fireworks and socks!”


Lemonade. Life does not always make lemonade for us, we have to choose to make it for ourselves.  I definitely believe that we choose our attitude in our lives.  Sometimes it is not easy to make lemonade when we are wrapped up in whatever is happening around us, but we can do it. Another song written by my love, is about the simple things in life, like going on a drive down Highway 89, and being together.


So the combination of these three things are fun and important things in the life of our family.  Also, we have three kids and these three words some days are exact definitions for our kids…fireworks= exploding, socks= crazy, and spilled lemonade.  I love them all and I am so grateful for this fun time!  The story of our blog starts here, and I hope to come back a lot to see how the trees are growing.


The World of Blogging

Hi!  This adventure into blogging is new territory for me. Sure, I love perusing other people’s blogs and seeing life through their eyes for a few moments, but I am not that interesting.  It can be so refreshing for me to see things outside of my little circle.  Sometimes it can be disheartening, because I get into the rut of thinking that I am not good enough or whatever else. Well, I never thought I would ever write a blog or open myself up to people who I didn’t trust.  But, it was one of those things that hits you like a bolt of lightning.  One day in my happy, little world a thought came and I knew that I needed to start a blog.  I came up with all sorts of reasons NOT too, but ultimately I felt pushed toward creating a blog.  In a way it was freeing to actually create something that didn’t involve a million pieces of paper cut by my kids with LOTS of glue and a lot of cute kid imagination (not saying that it is not fun, but a different kind of creating).  I found myself excited to explore different thoughts in my head and to just write.  I have long been a journal writer and have felt that I could write, in my own little world, but the outside seems so “scary”.

Truth be told, I am an introvert.  Seriously…like the 1% super introverted of the world.  I took this little personality test that my husband took (because he and his coworkers had been talking about personality types) and low an behold…an introvert.  I wasn’t really surprised, but I was surprised that my lovely husband and I BOTH were categorized into that little group of 1%.  Well, this information started me on this quest to find out more about myself and to understand who I was.  Enter a game changer…an amazing read called, “Quiet” by Susan Cain.  You can read more about her and her book here. I will write another post about that later.  So this blog is me being selectively extroverted. I hope you enjoy the randomness and craziness of life with me!  Thanks for stopping by!