Every Little Step I Take

As you can imagine, my husband was very excited when he found out.

Honestly, he was stunned.  He thought with all that the doctors had said over the years, that it would take at least a year before anything would actually “stick.”  LOL.

Silly rabbit!  What a mighty God we serve!  When the doctors say no, God says, “YES!” All things are possible with him.

Takes me back to the Bible verse in Genesis—only this time, instead of the wife (Sarah) laughing at the angel, it was my husband the angel was speaking to when he asked, “Is there anything too hard for God?”

I however, was secretly terrified. I don’t think I thought anything would secretly happen, either…at least not so quickly. I was very afraid…but I brushed off those feelings of fear, and pressed forward to doing what must come next—an appointment with my primary care doctor for “confirmation,” so that all of my medications could be changed.

That day at work, I snuck into my office and made the phone call.  I was very upset because whereas the nurse was telling me that I had to discontinue ALL of my medications because they were in class “C,” they were telling me that my doctor did not have anything available that week, and nothing the next week because she was out on vacation, and the next appointment I could get, would be the Monday after she returned!

This upset me tremendously.  So, I have high blood pressure, I can’t take my meds because they are harmful to a growing fetus, but I can’t get in to see my doctor for over a ten day period? Something was wrong with this picture.

So in the meantime, I could stroke out, and then, both me AND the baby would become a statistic?  What kind of sense does that make?  I asked didn’t she have same day appointments, and they informed yes she does, but those were for people who were sick, and pregnant is not sick.
Man, I can’t win for losing here!  I can’t get in for a same day because I am not “sick,” but making me wait an excess of 10 days without my blood pressure pills was safe?  And somehow THAT in itself was not considered an emergency?  And to make matters worse, I KNOW my primary care doctor!  She would be "HAWT" if she knew the front desk was blocking me like they were! 

So I let the receptionist have it!  I informed her that if she didn't work WITH me, I would just show up, and sit right there in the reception area until they took me to my doctor because she herself in the past, had told me to do just that if I ever had an issue getting an appointment. 

She told me she would do all she could get me an appointment, and would call me back later that day. My initial phone call was at 8:45that morning—I had a call back at 10 saying that they had a “cancellation” for the next day, and would I be interested in taking that appointment.  I said yes of course, and now, I was set.  I asked them what would occur at the visit.  They said they would conduct another pregnancy test to confirm my findings, and then, “depending on those results,” (Maybe I should’ve waved the stick with pee on in THEIR faces? Lol)  they would begin the process of changing all of my meds.  

But, at any rate, I was ok with that. I mean, I had already waited long enough. I could wait another 24 hours for “man’s” confirmation, but we already knew the truth!  Every little step I take, is moving me closer and closer to my dream!  :)

My Name is Victory!

TOUCHDOWN!  

The test read two beautiful, PINK lines!  I don’t think I have ever seen such a beautiful sight!  Who knew urine on a stick would make you feel so blissfully doggone happy????

It was 3 o’clock in the morning, and I was silently squealing in the bathroom so as to not wake my husband and our 2 year old…but I HAD to tell SOMEONE!  But WHO? WHO could I wake upat 3 am and share this with? I placed my hand tightly over my mouth and “screamed” so hard, and so loud, it’s a wonder I did not wet myself again!

I bounded up the stairs—“magic” wand in hand, and ran up on my niece who is staying with us, and squealed.  “LOOOOK!!!”  When I did not get the reaction I wanted from her (she snored and rolled over); I resorted to Plan B—I yanked the covers off of her and squealed—demanding that she look at the stick too.  

When she didn’t respond to the covers being dragged off of her, I raced to the light switch and flipped the switch, flooding the room with glorious (only to me) light.  She begrudgingly woke up, grumbling the entire time.  Something totally nonsensical about wanting to kill me because it was so early: blah, blah, blah, and some nonsense like that…you know, typical sleep talk.  Lol. 

I shoved the stick in her face, and tried to act as if I were calm… “Does this mean, pregnant?” I asked…trying to sound refined, and dignified.

“Go away, Aunt Kenitra!” She grumbled. 

“Come ON! I came to share this moment with you! Besides…will the pink lines still be there when it’s time to really wake up? I mean, do they like, disappear as the pee dries?” 

She just stared at me in disbelief.  “Pee dries? Do you know how long it will take for that to happen? The pee doesn’t just leave, Auntie! It’ll still be there in the morning…later, in the morning! Go away!”

Dejected, I stuck out my bottom lip with dramatic flair, turned and left. She was clearly not as excited as I was.  The old fuddy duddy!  

And so, I went back to bed…smile wider than the front door…but I went back to bed. I could not tell my husband right then—I did not want to disturb him: he’s finishing up his Master’s degree, and had been up doing homework until 1:30ish in the morning, while at the same time, he had pulled a twelve hour shift at work that day…no…I would let him sleep, and tell him in the morning...two songs this time--working interchangably together...."I called on The Lord, all night long, and I wouldn't let go, until He blessed my soul, I'm a witness....that He came through"........."MY NAME IS VICTORY!"

Wishin' and hopin' and thinkin' and prayin'

I arrived at home, with my box of 3 tucked craftily in my purse.  I did NOT want to tell my husband anything until I knew more information.  I did not want him to get his hopes up, only to have them dashed if the test came back negative.  It was enough for me to have my hopes up as high as they were…misery loves company, but I would not do that to him—I would face this one alone for now…

Like a secret agent, I snuck in to the house with stealth like precision. ..Ok, so there was no stealthily sneaking…I have a two year old, so it was more like we trudged in to the house, dragging his baby bag from daycare, his sippie cup, Elmo, and of course, him.  Dropped everything at the front door while he went to pester his father, and I slipped unnoticed in to the bathroom, leaving Matthew alone with my niece and my husband—so I could read the instructions in peace.

However, you know what lesson I learned? That there is a reason someone invented locks for doors!  To keep nosey behind people OUT!  My husband meandered in and caught me reading the directions (like the nerd I am), and the expression on his face, was so priceless, I found myself wishing life came with a remote control so I could rewind the moment like a dvr and snap a picture of his face…snap a picture of my face, too! His mouth was all gaped open, eyes as wide as his mouth was open! Lol.

Mouth still wide open, he began to stutter.  I calmed him down, and explained to him what had been happening, and ran him out of the bathroom, assuring him I was not going to test until morning, and I would let him know then. After that, I locked the door, closed the lid to the toilet, and sat upon my “throne,” and finished reading the directions, trying to decide if I could in fact wait for morning to test, or would I pull my hair out in the interim.

Alas, I waited.  I was honestly afraid to do it right then.  The box said that the pregnancy hormone hCG is most present in urine from the early morning, so once again, life made me wait.  I tried to find ways to occupy my time…Facebook, Hootsuite, watching things on tv that I had recorded, but in true fashion (which was one of the symptoms of early pregnancy as well), I fell asleep at 8 pm.  When I woke at 3 am to tinkle, I decided, “hey, why not? Let’s do this!”  And so I did.  I followed the directions, and laid the test wand thingy down on a flat surface, and waited again.

I walked around the kitchen…I peaked in on Matthew.  I kept a watchful eye on my husband to ensure he did not wake up and disturb me again. I raided the fridge…I know, you’re only supposed to wait 3 minutes, but dang blarm it! Those. Were. The. LONGEST 3 minutes in the WORLD!
Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, I went back in the bathroom, and looked down at the test… Wishin' and hopin' and thinkin' and prayin'...

Love is Patient...love is kind...it endureth all things...

Today, for a change of pace, I thought I would give an excerpt from my novel, Eternal Bloom...my PERSONAL story, shall pick up tomorrow.  Happy reading!  

As soon as he pulled up into the garage, Kalb hit the button for the garage door to close behind us. I hopped out of the car and I ran to the door fumbling with the keys while Kalb began taking off his belt. I saw him coming at me with it, so I got the door open, and ran into the house.  I looked for a place to go, and so I decided to run upstairs and try to get to the bathroom before he could catch me, and lock the door. No such luck. He caught me by my waist, picked me up off the stairs, and headed towards the family room. He threw me on the couch.

            “So you’ve been flirting with my co-workers?” he roared.

            “No!”  I said. “Why would I? More importantly, how could I?”

            “Why would a whore do anything?” he asked? “Whose children are those I’m raising?” he asked.

            “Yours!” I said.

            He raised the belt and brought it down on me. It hit my face--the buckle landed squarely in my eye - I screamed.

            “Those” Whack! “Aren’t” Whack! “My” Whack! “Damn” Whack! “Kids!” he screamed while he was beating me with the belt. He stopped for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

            “Whose are they?”  he panted, and cracked the belt on me again.

            I tried to slide off the couch and crawl away, and he kept beating me the entire time.

            “I said whose are they?”  His lashes were cutting deeper as he was hitting me with the buckle, and gaining more force with each crack.

            “Yours!” I screamed.  I began crawling away from him. I felt the belt crack on my back again, and this time, I felt the blood rolling down my back as freely as the tears were running down my cheeks.

            “Liar!  You’re such a fucking liar!”

            I clawed at the carpet in my attempts to get away from him.

            He sat on the arm of the couch and began to cry.  “How could I marry such abitch?” he said to the heavens. “Here I am, about to go out of town on business for the firm, and I have to worry about whom from my office, my wife is fucking!” he sobbed.

            “Divorce me.” I said hoarsely, crawling slowly from the intense pain.

            “What?” he said.  He jumped up and came over and stood over me.  “What did you say?” he raised up the belt over his head and hit me again. “You got some shit to say, do you?”  he hit me again.

            “Divorce me.” I said again, this time a little stronger.

            He hit me again.

            “Oh God!”  I screamed from somewhere deep within. “Why don’t you just let me out of this farce of a marriage?”

            He hit me harder and then stood there panting.

            “We both know you don’t love me, never did, never will.”  I was crawling away.

            He hit me again, this time the blow was so hard I slumped down on my stomach.

            “I do love you!” he screamed down at me.  “I need you!” he screamed.  “I need your love…your understanding…your forgiveness…” He brought the belt down across my back again.

            “I love you even though you are a whore! Even though you are a bitch!” he screamed.

            “Love me?” I cried from where I was laying on the floor.  I laid my head on my arm to rest for a minute.   “Need me?”  I began to chuckle silently.

            The blood from my back was causing my clothes to stick to me. I began pulling myself across the floor.

            “Love...suffers long,” I panted dragging my body along the floor.  I was trying to reach the stairs to go up to the third level where the bedrooms were. He hit me again. The pain was overwhelming, and the blood oozed freely.

            “Love does not envy.....love does not parade itself....is not puffed up...like you.” I spat back at him.

            “Shut up!” he yelled and hit me again with all that he had in him.

            I stopped, winced, and began pulling myself again. Funny how I always hated the size of this house, it was never big enough to keep me from running into him.  Now it seemed to be too big in order to run quickly away from him!

            “Love does not behave rudely... does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil....can you say those things about yourself, Kalb?” I asked.  I had no idea where this intensity was coming from!  Where were all of those words coming from?  How come I had never stood up for myself before???

            He cut the belt across my back again. The tears rolled down my face faster, but I refused to cry out, not this time! 

            “I will beat you until you shut up!” he roared.

            I coughed. Blood came up. I didn’t care. He brought up love, so I was going to have my say. I winced. No matter how my words caused me pain!

            “Love does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth....it bears all things…believes…all things...hopes......all things...endures....all things.....love….never…fails.....”

            It was becoming increasingly hard to talk. The feeling of blood, thick and warm, the very life of me, was draining out through every pore in my body.  The darkness was coming, I could feel it coming, I wanted to welcome it, embrace it - but not until I was finished!

            “Let’s stop...lying.” I said. I stopped crawling, I was at the bottom of the stairs. I lay there on the floor panting, darkness was just around the corner, all I had to do was to let it take me.

            “I may be trapped in this marriage by your death threats, but there is no need to lie to one another.”

            “I love you!” he yelled and hit me.

            “That’s why you....hit me?” I asked.

            “I hit you because you make me hit you!” he shouted and hit me again.

            “And now abide faith, hope, love.....”

            He hit me harder, I was going fast. Too much blood lost.

            “These three, but the greatest of these......” I laid my head on my hand with my face to the wall, saliva mixed with blood was running out of the corner of my mouth. “....is love.......” my voice trailed off as I could no longer fight the darkness, and I was swept away with it.

Faith Without Works

I think the worst feeling is the world, is not knowing.

To be left alone, in the dark of the world.  Having knowledge, yet, feeling dumb as a brick. Having the where-with-all, and yet, not being able to use it. It is a frustrating feeling…being helpless…waiting…depending on outside “forces” to give you a clue…LOOKING for a clue…knowing that a pregnancy test could not be taken until you missed your period…right?  I can’t take a test prior to missing my period…or can I?  And if I can, how soon can I take it?

All of these thoughts were going through my head as we waited…biding our time until we could do more…know more.

The allotted two weeks went by, and one day…I noticed I was cramping something awful.  This was unusual for me.  Even with extremely painful cycles in my teenage years, I had not experienced cramps in years.  I started to get a wee bit excited, but decided against it.  I mean, I had heard of women who thought they were pregnant, and therefore made themselves symptomatic because they were so desperate to be pregnant.  So, I calmed down, and I ignored the signs.

That was the Sunday.

Then on Tuesday of the same week, I woke up, and experienced dry heaves that morning!  Then, I was at my desk, and all of a sudden, I was hit with an overwhelming desire to close my door…LOCK it…pull the blinds shut, and passssssss ooooouuuutttt.   I cannot explain it.  I just knew I HAD to sleep, and I had to do it right THEN!

I shook it off, grabbed my purse, and headed out to make a Starbucks run for a small Java Chip iced coffee—yum!  That worked, and I was rejuvenated for the rest of the day.

Then Wednesday, I had an immediate, dire urge for black beans, heavy—and I do mean so HEAVY that I could have easily exhaled and killed thousands—onions, tomatoes, and sour cream from Salarita’s! And by George, I got it, too!  And vomited it all up! Clean down to my toes! NOT a pretty sight!

Then I tried to eat my boring sandwich from home—puked that up as well.  Fine.  I went to the school cafeteria.  As soon as I walked in, and was bombarded with the scents of various concoctions brewing and bubbling-- I made a run for the door, and paid homage to a lovely bush just outside the door.

I collected myself, then walked back in the cafeteria, only to have the exact same reaction—a different bush this time—but the same reaction.

Someone suggested I might be pregnant.  No, I thought.  Wait…could I be? That quick? Could it have really been that easy?  People try for years…did I really get pregnant from the first college try?  I mean, I know faith without works is dead, but gadzooks! Could it really work that fast?
However, being that I have never done this before, I was extremely naïve. I honestly thought I couldn’t take a pregnancy test until the day I missed my period, which was the coming Sunday. Alas, someone told me I could indeed test with an early kit, because the early ones could detect the pregnancy hormone as early as six days prior to my missed period.

So I left school at 4:15, and I headed to the Super Conglomerate store down the street from my school, and I bought a box of three pregnancy tests (being both optimistic AND pessimistic at the same time), and I headed to pick up Matthew from daycare, and then headed home to take this test…mentally trying to prepare myself the entire 45 minute drive home…

Is There Anything Too Difficult for God?

So we made up our minds to try.  My husband and I had just finished watching a movie called, “The Secret,” about a month prior to this, and in this movie, they kept referring to the law of attraction, and how people keep putting their lives on hold, and why? How people allow their tongue to curse their lives, when they could be living the happiness they dream of.

I thought about that hard…it made so much sense to me.  I mean, of course I looked it up in the Bible first.  And you know what? Even the Bible speaks about how the tongue can speak blessings over one’s life, or curses over one’s life.  Matthew 12:37 says, “For by your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned."  And Proverbs 18:21 reads, “Death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruit.”

So how can you argue with the Word? I mean, Man can dress it up, but it still boils down to what the Word has already put out there—if you speak life, prosperity, happiness, you shall have those.  If you speak calamity, treachery, and malevolent matters, then you shall have those as well, for whatever a man soweth, he shall also reap.  How is that a secret? LOL. Only because we have forgotten about the Word in our daily walk, and have become guided by things that we should not be.

So we began to strategize.  We were a 2 person “football” team, using the calendar on the app, mapping out plays, deciding how we would play offense, and how we would play defense to make our dream a reality.

A few times, we wobbled on our decision.  We wondered was this right time? Was this the right thing to do? What about Matthew? How will he feel? How will we handle telling him? We also worried about the heartache we would feel if we were not successful.  What would we do then? How would we handle the agony of defeat? And this defeat would be of the worst kind because the end result, is something we have always wanted. Then, we decided that it was time to stop with the excuses…stop with the delays…we remembered what the angel said to Sarah in Genesis, when she laughed at the promise of a child, "Is anything too difficult for the LORD?

We had our answer.  We would move forward, and we would try. God’s will be done, we could no longer lean on our own understanding, but trust in what God had in store for us…

Part 2

This part of my story reminds me of my minister’s sermon Sunday past on how to pray…he referenced calling on the Lord over and over, until you get an answer…

….And so we prayed…and we asked for guidance.  We asked for a sign of what to expect next, what to do next.  Finally, I spoke to my primary care doctor, and she informed me, that I was of course welcomed to try, but that I needed to understand that at the first sign of symptoms, I needed to purchase a pregnancy test, and if it came back positive, then I had to get in to see her ASAP because all of my blood pressure pills are considered toxic, and I would have to get confirmation from her, and then she would in fact change all of my meds—why didn’t she just change them you may ask? Because blood pressure is tricky, and when you are on medication that is working, doctors do not like to change it unless they medically have to.

So I went home, and I thought about it. How would I know, how could I know when or if I ovulated?  I mean…I do ovulate, right? I mean, I think so? Well, I would hope I do if I’m having a cycle each month. So we…well, I…got an app.  You know how all of those commercials for Apple always say, “there’s an app for that?” Well, ‘whadaya’ know? There really IS an app for that!  And, it was FREE, so I downloaded it to my iPhone, and began charting my cycle.  From previous experience, I have always crudely scribbled down beginning and ending dates for my cycle on my calendar, but I had never really paid any attention to them previously.

Well, after plugging in the data, we looked at the app, and my cycle really was like clock-work.  It may not have come on the exact same day each month, but the days within the cycle, were identical.
Once we had nailed that my cycles were on time like a steady a paycheck, we knew we needed to figure out days of fertility.  Now, you can pay 40 bucks for a kit that will tell you that, or you can refer back to your handy dandy app to help you pinpoint this data—I’m an educator, I ‘ain’t’ got an extra 40 bucks, so I went back to the app!

When I went back and looked over the data, I noticed there were different colors on the monthly chart, and one day was marked with a flower each month.  I went into the settings of the app to figure out the legend of colors and symbols, and then I realized that blue was for my cycle, yellow was for the fertile time of the month (who knew you are actually fertile for 7 whole days?), and the flower, was the indicator that this was the day you should ovulate based on the data entered with cycle begins and end dates...

Backing that thang up for a moment

In November of last year, I felt an urge--I wanted another baby! However, I wasn't sure about adopting again--even though Matthew is my little love, I still wanted to have my own if possible.  I figured that surely God must be saving my uterus for SOMETHING...I mean, after all, NO doctor had ever been willing to sign off on my having a hysterectomy.  Even with them all saying that I would never get pregnant, none would sign off on my having such a drastic surgery at such a young age, and without having given birth.

So, this past November, I asked my doctor....can I?  I mean, my menstrual cycle had been actually normal for 2 years at that point---ever since I lost 150 pounds via gastric bypass.  No one would give me a straight answer.  Again. No one wanted to confirm or deny what I was feeling.. No one wanted to validate what I said. All they would go on the record of saying, was that IF I was "thinking" of trying, it would need to be quickly as time was not my friend.

Ain't that something?  After all these years, all of this progress, and no one still wants to comment on my condition in any way other than to give me, "the look."

So I prayed about it.  I talked to my husband, and WE prayed about it...

Friday=Blahday today! :(

This week has found me feeling blue, and blah.  Not about the book—about my health, and trying to shake whatever bug has bitten me and won’t let go: off! Alas, I am still here though, and headed to the doctor today to figure out what bug is it, and maybe to get some antibiotics to help me along the way.

As far as the book is concerned though, it keeps getting good reviews, so that pleases me. 

Hopefully, I will feel better tomorrow, and if so, I’ll peek my head out from under the covers, to give you an update!

Take care, and enjoy yourselves and your weekend!

Monday Morning Musings...

It has been a very busy weekend! My son celebrated his birthday on Sunday, so we partied Saturday, and then of course, we partied on a smaller scale on Sunday, so I really have not had the time to do much writing, which makes me sad.

However, the good thing is that I am getting good reviews from the people who have read the book, and that makes me happy.  I am finding that Women’s groups want me to come and speak.  I have been asked to participate in a Women’s Day program on June 21^st, and of course I said yes: and I was asked this morning to participate in another, where her church wants to purchase copies of the book for all of the women to have and read prior to my coming out! 

And my church members want copies, too!  So this makes me happy…ier!  I continue to marvel at how God has ordered my steps…I only classified my work as “fiction,” but somehow, it has been marketed as, “Christian Fiction.”  This tickles me.  They say when you look for a sign from God, He will provide one, and He did. 

This of course makes me extremely happy.  I wrote Aiyana’s story because I felt it was one that needed to be told.  So many women just suffer in silence, and I my heart goes out to them…you know, in some countries, thieves are punished by having a hand lobbed off.  I wish that were the same punishment for men who abuse women—whatever hand you use to raise against her, should be the same hand the Law lobs off!  If that would happen, perhaps we would not see the devastating effects that we do from domestic violence. 

And the really bad thing surrounding this subject matter?  I have other stories, by other women that need to be told…and I will tell them in due time.  As I stated earlier in my blog series though—these stories are hard to write as I totally assume the female character—what she thinks, what she feels…and I walk in her shoes.

Well, for now, these are things on my mind, so I am going to sign off, and get to work!