My heart shattered when hers stopped.

I was 20 years old when my fiance and I made the very irresponsible and in-the-moment decision to “go for it” and make a baby. What the heck right? What could possibly be so hard about raising a child? We were in love and by that I mean for real (7 years with this man and he still has my heart and will hold it forever).

Well God sure does have a plan and we soon realized what His plan was for us. This pregnancy wasn’t easy. Complication after complication. The horrible morning sickness (afternoon & night) was the very least of my worries. At 18 weeks along I started to swell up. I figured, this is normal, everyone swells a little right? After seeing my OBGYN and being assured that everything was coming along normally, I relaxed and TRIED to enjoy the rest of this pregnancy. (All I can think right now is how remarkable God’s timing is..)

After being assured that the swelling wasn’t as bad as it looked, I was admitted to the hospital (21 weeks now) because I was having trouble breathing and was hearing/feeling a gurgling sound as my chest inflated and deflated with each breath I took. I was so scared for my baby (girl) and what this would mean for us. I stayed there in that hospital bed for a week enduring test after test trying to figure out what it was that was wrong with me. Until finally, I was diagnosed with Pulmonary Edema and Preeclampsia. None of which I knew anything about. For those of you who don’t have a clue what I am talking about here’s some info on each diagnosis.( Pulmonary Edema/Preeclampsia )

The fluid was getting greater and started to reach my heart so I was sent up to the ICU where they could monitor my baby and I closely. I was terrified. All I could think about was what’s going to happen to my baby? Will this amount of stress affect her? Will I make it to term?? I spent Easter away from my family and friends because I was too sick to leave the hospital. Every day it seemed they had different news about my condition. I remember one morning getting a blood transfusion. Not where they took my blood and gave me more, but only where they gave me more. After that was over the nurse on call forgot to clamp my IV and all of that blood I was just given, puddled around her shoes. WOW. Crazy, huh? My fiance was furious! At this point all I wanted was to be home with my family as if none of this ever happened to me.

A few nights after Easter in the ICU I started getting contractions. Real ones. I couldn’t handle this. My doctor calls me on the ICU telephone and informs me that I am in labor and my baby will not make it. Can you imagine? BUT that’s not the end. The contractions eased and after a couple “good” days I was sent back to the Woman’s floor. I was ecstatic. My baby made it and we were going to be okay. I was sent home to remain on bed-rest and to ONLY get out of bed for a shower and bathroom use. So that’s what I did.

Well, not 2 days later I’m laying in my bed and I start to feel some pain in my lower abdomen. Freaked out I call one of my closest friends to get some insight on what the pain could be. She insisted I should call my fiance and have him take me to the emergency just-in-case. As I’m on the phone with him sobbing (more from fear than any pain I was feeling) I bend down to reach my shoes and my water breaks. I’m home alone. My water breaks. I’m in pain. Hysterical now. I charge out of the house and look for anyone willing to help me. As soon as my water broke I began to bleed and feel the most intense pain I have ever to this day, felt in my life! A man and his son were walking by our house and stopped to help the crazed, hysterical woman sitting in her driveway. All I kept saying to them through my sobs was that I’m pregnant and I’m having contractions. “I’m 22 weeks pregnant and my water broke! Please help me! Please get Tyler!!”. After what seemed like minutes (but were merely seconds) my fiance pops in the driveway and carries me to the car. Forgetting to thank the kind gentlemen for stopping for me. (Neighbors were later thanked)

Were whipping through cars and going as fast as we can without causing some kind of accident. I began vomiting. All over his pretty, clean carpet. I was holding on to the roll cage (Jeep thing) for dear life trying not to pass out from the blood in my pants and seat and the pain coming from my abdomen and genital region. We finally arrive at the hospital and Ty has no choice but to go in and find a chair for me leaving me on  the bench outside the emergency doors. I sat on that bench and screamed my lungs out, watching as blood started to drip into a small puddle underneath my seat. I was in a state I never ever wanted to relive, but I do. (I’m reliving it right now, in this moment.) I watched as nurses, doctors and patients walked by not saying a word as I sat on that bench feeling like the loneliest person in the universe. What is wrong with these people I remember thinking. Don’t you hear my screams? Don’t you see the blood coming out of me!? HELP ME! I wanted to scream at them, but I was a little preoccupied at the moment. After asking the desk employee for a wheel chair and being told there were none, my fiance, Tyler had to search the hospital on his own. He finally found one and wheeled me in. That shocked the hell out of everyone. Oh? This is the woman needing a chair, why didn’t you say so? HA!

They wheeled me onto the elevator and all I remember is hearing someone say “She’s crowning” What did you just say? My baby girl was making her entrance into the world. Too soon.

They got me in a room immediately and put me on the hospital bed and checked our girls heartbeat, hearing the sweet pat pat made me soar and smile and they then told me to push! Breathe and push as hard as I could.  I did. All of a sudden she was out and they were covering her body and taking her away. I thought where are you taking her? Why aren’t you looking at her? What’s wrong? I asked. I knew. I looked at my Tyler and I knew he knew it too. She was gone. Our baby was gone. Just like that. We stared at each other and I’ll never forget the look of defeat on his face. We stared and all I could do was scream. Earth shattering screams. PLEASE DON’T TAKE MY BABY! Help her! They did nothing.

A piece of my heart broke that day in that bed. A very delicate part of me that I will never get back. A part that will never fully mend. A part of Tyler broke that day too. He doesn’t talk about it much, but I know it affected him just as much as it affected me.

There isn’t a day I don’t think about my sweet Madison. There’s  not a day I don’t wish she were here. After the loss of Madison I threw my anger at God. I hated Him for what He did to me. What He took from me. It took me a very long time (almost 4 years in fact) to get back to my faith and realize that God always has a plan whether we like it or not. Maddie spends her life in Heaven with our Holy Father spreading her angel wings for all of Heaven to see.

I love my baby girl. You will not be forgotten. Rest In Paradise Madison Jordan Underwood ❤

*This was a very short version of what I went through and very very tough for me to write. Thank you for reading & God bless!

Are you and I the same?

It is often said that no two minds are alike. Right? Well I can’t help but to think that we’re all a lot more alike than any of us would seriously care to admit.

Sometimes, when I’m sad, I go back to every thing in my life that has made me feel that sad feeling. I will dwell upon all of the sadness and wallow in my own self pity. Depending on what has made me sad, I will beat myself up about whether or not I was able to change the situation and make it better.

When I’m happy.. well, I am a whole lot more enjoyable for one. Second, I will go out of my way for anyone. Not saying I wouldn’t otherwise, but when I’m happy, you could get me to do just about anything! Also, making others happy, makes me happy! (It’s like a high) Really, really. It’s like a bird soaring in the sunny sky!

When I feel defeated, it’s very hard to bring me back up. I don’t feel defeated too often. It’s during the hardest, saddest times that I feel this way. Not much matters to me after that. Live? What for? Ya know, those I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE moments. However, those horrible feelings don’t last forever and eventually I give it up and look up! (Ever hear that saying? “When you’re in a hole, look up.”?)

Feeling at peace with who I am and what God planned for me is literally the BEST feeling there is though. Point. Blank. Period. NOthing is better than knowing your self worth. Knowing you can and will make it through anything. Because guess what? God is mighty to save! He knows my strengths and my weaknesses and He loves me in spite of that.

Take from this short spat what you will and ask yourself “Are you and I the same?”

 

My truth.

If I were to tell the truth about what my life was like and the struggles I face everyday, you probably wouldn’t believe me. Isn’t it hard to imagine what people around you are going through? (The couple next door, the teenager walking his dog, the lady at the grocery checkout..) Everyday someone will ask me “How are you doing?” and 9 times out of 10 my response would be “I’m good”, when in reality I have 100 things on my mind stressing me out at the moment.

If I were to tell you the truth I would tell you how frustrated I am with my crap car and I am frustrated with the amount of money it is costing to fix it on top of the already $14k I am financing. I was pulled over the other day for expired tags (because I can’t pass emissions) and the officer was awfully nice and let me go with a warning, but I couldn’t help to sob like a child after pulling onto the road and driving away.

If I were to tell you the truth I would tell you my relationship isn’t perfect. No relationship is. My fiance and I argue and we get heated with each other. We argue about parenting and bills. We argue about not spending enough time together and agreeing it’s because we’re both exhausted from work and parenting and stressing over an insane amount of things. However imperfect our relationship is though, at the end of the day, he is and always will be my very best friend. I will love him more tomorrow than I do today.

If I were to tell you the truth I would tell you I am adopted and I struggle with the term “family”. I’d tell you that after years of being in and out of homes and being the only real role model my siblings had to look up to, I was adopted. At the age of 18. It’s a hard concept for me and something I still have a hard time dealing with at the age of almost 25.

The truth I would tell you is that my biological mother whom I still love dearly is serving life in prison as well as my older (and only) brother. It is still something I cannot fathom. Still is something I will never allow my mind to fully accept.

If I were to tell you the truth I would tell you I push every-one in my life away because I am terrified to commit to people. I’m terrified of getting close, opening up, sharing my world, trusting and having faith in someone who could potentially destroy my heart. I have let these people in, every so often, and I have been let down and heart broken.

If I were to tell you the truth it would be that 4 years ago (this Sat 04/16) I lost my first child. Every day I think about her and wonder what she could have been like. Who she would be, what she would be doing right now. I often wonder what her facial expressions would be like, mine or her daddy’s? I think about her playing with her younger brother and teaching him how to swim and to ride a bike. What would she sound like, look like, act like? Sometimes people will ask me why I took it so hard?? HOW COULD I NOT???? Wouldn’t you? (Rest in paradise my sweet angel, Madison.)

If I were to tell you the truth I would tell you that I struggle with my body imagine. People don’t understand how or why, but it’s true. I look at myself every single day and wish I was prettier and skinnier. I wish every day that my skin was flawless, my hair was longer, my love handles a thing of the past. So many women suffer from image issues. Especially after having children. It’s not that I’m not confident in who I am as a person, I’m not confident when I LOOK at myself. Take all the mirrors away and you would never know there was any struggle at all.

HA! To tell you the truth; the truth isn’t always easy!

 

Take a good breath.

Do you ever feel like you need a break? Can you remember the last time you had time to just sit and relax for a moment? In today’s world it’s hard to get a good breath. Do that now. Take in a big breath and relax, even if only for a second.

This life, world, time, decade bothers me. Nothing stops. I push myself to keep moving. I keep fighting to stay afloat. Whether it be in my relationships, jobs, role as a parent, in my walk with God, managing bills or getting in school.

We live in a very difficult era. But the scariest part of all of it for me is raising my children in it. I often see posts on social media reminiscing about ‘the good days’ before social media became a “thing”. The days where we didn’t have cell phones or computers to keep us busy. When I was young (and I am not old by any means) I played outside until the street lights came on. I didn’t text or facebook message my  friends to hangout, I knocked on their door or called them from the house phone. I did hopscotch, rode bikes, roller skated, made mud pies, swam in creeks, built forts and did anything I could not to sit in the house. What happened to that? SOCIAL MEDIA. Technology has grown immensely in the last 10-15 years. It’s incredible really. I could only WISH we could take it all back!

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I am terrified to let my son grow up in the world as we now know it. I wake up every day afraid of the things that could happen to him. Yes, there have always been kidnappings and shootings and things of the sort, but not like today. Not nearly as scary.

The point is- slow down. Look at life with a new perspective. Cherish what you DO have. For many, it will be gone tomorrow….

So take a good breath and release the stress. Focus on today because you never know what tomorrow will bring.

Mother to Mother

Being a mom isn’t easy. Heck! Being a parent isn’t easy. It is said to be one of the toughest jobs there is. I do not agree. Yes, being a mom is tough, but it is not a JOB. Being a parent is a choice. Some days are more challenging than others and there are certain days I feel as though I may SNAP, but watching my child grow, learn and achieve makes me the happiest I could ever be. Those moments outweigh all of the tantrums, messes, boo boo’s and  tears. Saying those moments make it all “worth it” would be an understatement.

It’s hard to imagine  my life without my toddler. We all think our kid is the best looking and smartest there is.  Reality check .. all children are beautiful in their own way. Kids learn at their own pace. No matter what age. To be quite honest I am a very biased mother. Many of us are! Of course I love my child more than anything in the world. That’s the glory of being “mom”. However, I often feel like I am in competition with other mother’s. That is NOT at all what I intend. When my toddler says a new word or learns something new it’s exciting! I love sharing our excitement, but often instead of positive feedback I get glares or “Ohhh, that’s cool..”. I am not in competition with you. I get just as excited when another child does something just as meaningful and incredible! Why can’t we praise each other for our hard work and endless efforts? Why do we need to one-up each other to feel accomplished?

Being a mom is a lot of work. We all deserve some praise!