Grateful

Today I am turning over a new leaf.  Until now, as you blog followers could probably tell, I have been really bitter.  I have had a really hard time accepting that I have to change my life because of a very unfair stroke.  I have felt robbed by God because I didn't deserve this trial.  Today I am done being mad all of the time.  I still feel like this stroke was unfair but I don't want to focus on that anymore.  Instead, I am going to be grateful again.  Today I remembered the time when I was a missionary.  I remembered that I was a rocking awesome missionary with a lot of success and I LOVED myself at that point of my life.  I don't even remember my 18 months in the LDS mission field as being hard, though I am sure at times it was.  I don't remember one bad day.  I am sure I had them but I don't remember them.  I believe that is because I was so grateful and I noticed the small things.  In the MTC I read a scripture in the Book of Mormon.  To us Mormons, this is a very famous scripture.  

Alma 37:37

 Counsel with the Lord in all thy doings, and he will direct thee for good; yea, when thou liest down at night lie down unto the Lord, that he may watch over you in your sleep; and when thou risest in themorning let thy heart be full of thanks unto God; and if ye do these things, ye shall be lifted up at the last day. 

I wanted my prayers to be more meaningful at the time because I thought they were getting too routine and not like they should be when someone is talking to God, my King and Father.  When I found this scripture, it came to me that these are instructions.  In the morning, I should give grateful prayers.  Keep in mind, this was my answer. I'm not telling everyone out there that this scripture is saying to never ask for anything in the morning.  This was just my answer.  So from the second or third week in the Missionary Training Center until the end of my mission in Taiwan, I said only thankful prayers in Chinese every single morning.  I also timed my prayers.  I literally set my watch for 5 minutes and named off things I was grateful for from my ability to ride a bike to understanding, through the Holy Ghost my investigators personal needs and understanding them.  I am going to do that again.  I was grateful for my companions, for the stop lights that would give me a break from biking like a maniac when my trainer (Erica Lindley) was way ahead of me and I could catch a breath, for the green lights when we were late for a lesson (she was so freaking fast on her bike), for nice weather, for typhoons because it made more people stay at home and we could share the gospel with more people on those days, I was grateful for my trials because I knew God wouldn't give me more than I could handle and trials meant he could trust me to handle more and become a stronger and better missionary.  I was grateful for everything.  Then I came home and real life set in. I love my husband with all of my heart. I am truly grateful that God led me to him.  I don't know anyone that could take the trial of his wife completely changing and complaining and crying almost every day like Cedric does.  He loves me so much and truly sees past the stroke changes.  He sees my spirit though I rarely get a glimpse of it anymore.  He still sees the great mother in me, even when I snap or swear at my poor little 1 and 2 year old for making noise when they are playing because it hurts my head.  He is my hero and what keeps me going.  I love him so much.  I did, however change all of my plans and get married right off my mission, moved to Germany, had a baby 11 months later, another baby 13 months after that, gained about 50 lbs in baby weight that I am having a terrible time losing and a stroke 4 months after having my second baby which almost took my life and sometimes when recovery is hard, I wish it did.  We have only been married for three and a half years.  So my life hasn't gone like I thought it would when I was fresh off my mission.  Because of this, especially after the stroke, I have felt like a victim.  I have felt like I am entitled to a lot of things and lost my innate feeling of gratefulness.  The truth is, this experience is shaping me into the Daughter God needs me to be.  I don't know why I had to have this particular trial now and I need to let go of that question.  I am going to focus on the things I know to be true: * I know God is my Heavenly Father and I know he loves me  * I know when I live by faith, meaning not knowing the meaning of certain things, I am happy * I know the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints is true * I know the Holy Ghost is Heavenly Father's messenger and will let me know what is right and wrong and give me the answers I need as long as I am willing to listen.   I know a lot more things but these are the things I am focusing on.  From now on, I will not complain about my trials on my blog.  When I look back at this experience, I don't want to remember the pain and loss it has caused.  I may write about a hard day or the things I struggle with, but no more complaining, only information. Please hold me to that :) I truly love all of you that read this.  It helps me a lot and since I am writing about gratefulness, I am thankful for you and all of my dear friends.  I am truly blessed with how many true eternal friends I have.    

PTS

My posts have been very sparatic, I know.  I was about to write that I'm sorry about that, but I'm pretty much just writing an online journal...so it's none of you readers business when or how often I write my deepest feelings anyway.  Just kiddin :)

I'll be honest, it's been a long, exhausting 3 months.  If you are one of the very few people I interact with, you probably have no idea because I don't talk about it much and I am really good at putting on a poker face.  I pretty much always look and act like I am feeling great.  I do this for a few reasons.

1.  I am prideful and don't want people to know that I actually have a headache, I'm tired, most likely slept like crap, am failing at my motherly duties and am on the verge of a panic attack
2. If I get into it, I will start to have an actual panic attack and it will just make it worse.
3.  I truly believe in faking it until you make it.  So if I fake that I'm doing great long enough, eventually I will feel that way.
4.  My body feels fine. There is just something off in my brain and I can't really explain how I'm feeling.

So when you see me and ask me how I'm doing, I will reply "fine" and I truly just want it left at that.  If you are really interested in what's going on in my dysfunctional brain, you can read my sparatic blog entries because I don't like talking about it.

Lately, I have been experimenting more and more with adding things into my life.  I am trying to find my new normal and really fighting the fact that it may never be what it was before.  I used to love yoga, so I have been experimenting with that and I still love it.  That is good news because it's really a great outlet for me.  I also have hired a nanny to help out during the days.  This is also great because I don't feel so guilty for not loving to be a stay at home mom anymore.  Because I hired a nanny though, I also have gone back to work for my bro Lex at Balance of Nature for a few hours per day.  I have been learning a lot about essential oils lately and I really love them.  I went to a day class and learned how to do aromatouch technique massages.  I think I have found my thing through that.  I am going to attend Zion Massage College in February and I am REALLY excited to do that.  It's not only healing for other people, but for me.  Through massage, I am gaining coordination, balance, energy and I really like it.  I am going to physical therapy again and attempting to relearn how to run so I don't feel like such a retard.  Running takes way more coordination than you would think.

Now that I mentioned that I am going back to physical therapy, I should also tell how that has affected me mentally.  Most of my big issues now are in my head.

So about a month ago, I decided that I need to start using my balance, coordination and fine motor skills or I'm going to lose them for good.  My dad has a friend who is a PT and was willing to trade with my Dad, so I thought "Any PT would do the trick.  Right?"  Wrong.  Well actually, probably right.  It wasn't the physical therapist that was causing this issue so much as my dysfunctional brain.  I stepped into that PT office and looked around and EVERY hospital/in patient rehab experience I could possible think of came back to me in one big gust.  Of course because I have a really great poker face, no one knew that I had such a hard time in there.  I left the office and evaluation, got in my car, and just cried, and cried.  I remembered the pain, not being with Cedric, the anger, the terrible headaches, going back to the hospital for more surgery, the puking, the fatigue...all of it.  I had most of these memories blocked and I liked them that way.  I talked to my not physical therapist about this because I had no idea where all of that came from and he said it sounds like PTS.  Weird, right?  I am not that kind of person! I have never been the kind of person to let my emotions give me a label.  But I really think that is what it was.  I forced myself to go back once thinking it would just get better but it really just got worse the second time.  I was supposed to go twice per week and one of those times, I even drove up to the parking lot.  Then I started panicking and called from my car and made up some excuse of why I couldn't go and told them I would call back when I could.  I didn't know that my Dad's friend, the PT, would call my Dad to see why I wasn't keeping my appointments.  So my parents came to me and I told them my experience.  They just encouraged me to keep going because I need it, but I just nodded and had no intention on going back.  I just figured I would keep up the yoga and massages and try to run by myself.  Eventually I would get it down.

A couple of days later, Cedric took me on a much needed break up North for the weekend.  My awesome sister Anna took my boys for me so I could get a mental break.  It was a great weekend with him.  We got to visit with a couple of his mission buddies and a couple of mine who I absolutely adore.  Sister Clyde and Sister Demordaunt...here is your shout out.  It was so awesome to remember the best and EASIEST time of my life so far, which was my mission.  They reminded me of who I am inside.  I was truly my best self for those 18 months and I remembered that I can be that again someday.  Well, something like that.  There I go again, not accepting my new normal :S

We came home on Monday and my parents sat down with me and told me they had gone to the PT who I had right after the stroke to see if I could start going there again.  I really liked this physical therapist but my insurance stopped paying for it and I had to stop going because I couldn't afford him anymore.  My parents told me that they are going to start paying for me to go see him as long as I need to.

I went into that PT office and felt relief.  No crazy memories, no PTS.  I was able to see how far I have come rather than how far I have to go.  I am going there once per week now and it's going really well.

Physically I am doing great.  Mentally, not so good on some days and awesome on others.  So here is my update...I hope to give you another one soon.  Thanks for reading!

Keep on keepin on

Hello everyone!  Haven't heard from me in a while, ey?  Life has been kind of rough lately to be honest.  I don't know why I complain so much, I have a very blessed life and I know it.  My husband is absolutely amazing, my boys are adorable and well behaved (thank you family and Ellen) and I am getting better and better.  Honestly though, getting better is really rough.  The unbearable things are much less but I am afraid they are permanent.  My stroke was March 17, 2014...I am not the kind of person that remembers those kind of details of terrible incidents but it happened the day after I came to the states and is pretty much the reason I am still here.  It's the reason Cedric has to put off school, the reason I live in (but please don't get me wrong, I am so thankful for this) my parents basement, the reason I don't want anymore children, can't take care of my own children, don't speak German, I have terrible insomnia, have short dark hair, I truly fight real depression for the first time in my life and everything else in my life right now that was ripped away from me.

I remember right before we came to the states, not even a week before, I looked around and got butterflies in my stomach about how much I loved my life at that point.  I had the perfect loving, spiritual, handsome husband, the most beautiful and adorable baby boys, I lived in a cute apartment in the best city in Germany that was ours along with everything in it, my boys were the only Ebisch grandchildren in Germany and getting to know their Oma, Opa and Uncle Adrian, and so many other things that made my life great.  I loved my life...then a week passed by and that was all gone.

It has been a year and I am still complaining.  I am so sick of getting better.  What a brat I am, I know.  It could have been worse. I could have died, right?  Now people, don't take this the wrong way but dying would have been a lot easier than years of healing.  Why did it have to be a stroke?  It is such a SLOW and EXPENSIVE process!  

Ok so on to better things.  I am done talking about me and on to talking about some people in my life that make me very happy.

Harvey and Jorgen are growing so much and so fast.  Harvey talks and talks but doesn't really say much.  He says a whole lot of very high pitched ";lkjs;lkjd;lkj;lfa" in a conversational tone with a random word like "choo choo train" in the middle.  He loves going to church because he loves nursery.  Pretty much every day, he goes to the shoe closet, brings me his Sunday shoes and says "chuch? chuch? I wanna go chuch!"  Then when I tell him it's not time for church he says "Trina's house?" or "Ellen's House?" or "Anna's house?"  Pretty much anywhere that there are other kids.  He is a very social little thing. I think my favorite thing he does right now is say "bye bye poo poo!  I love you!" Whenever he flushes the toilette.

Jorgen is growing out of the baby stage really fast.  He walks now and is starting to talk a lot.  He is a little tease.  He teases Harvey just to make him scream already.  It's funny now.  He LOVES my mom.  If my Mom leaves the room without acknowledging him, he just cries and cries.  He will say "love mommy" and copies whatever I tell him to say. It's adorable.  I am thinking about potty training...but I don't think I'm ready for it yet.  He is though.  He only has two distinguishing looks.  He either looks totally bored and doesn't have a clue or his whole face lights up when he smiles.

Cedric is just as amazing as ever.  He is so incredibly patient with me.  Even though it has been a year of hell for him too, you will never hear him say a bad thing or complain.  Ever.  I look up to him so much.  It has been harder for him than anyone, even me.  But he has just accepted it and stepped up to the plate man.  I love him so much.  I may not have much motivation to keep on trekking but he is enough for me.  I want myself back for his sake.  I am so in love with that man.

Well, I am sorry for being so random with this blog but I hope this kind of brings people up to date.  It really helps me to write this blog...but it doesn't help me when others feel sorry for me.  Everyone has their hard thing in life to deal with and through all the pain and trial, I would still take this over experiences other people have had.  So don't feel sorry for me but please do put out some good energy or pray or whatever you believe in for me that I can start sleeping.  Thank you for reading friends!

Just keep swimming

I thought I posted this.  It was more than a month ago.  I have a new years resolution to write once a week.  You can hold me to it!  So onto the post I thought I posted in November...



It's been a while my blog following friends! Life has been kind of crazy lately.  Actually I guess compared to the past 8 months it hasn't been that crazy and that's why I haven't written in so long.  I am getting more and more normal, which means I have my kids most of the time now by myself, though my Mom is just upstairs and more than willing to help at any given moment.  My parents are pretty awesome like that.

Last week I went to Mexico.  I went to a Doctor in Tijuana who specializes in stem cell therapy and homeopathy.  He also does a live blood analysis which basically means he pricks my finger, takes a drop of blood, then puts it under a microscope and my cells come up on a computer screen.  It's pretty amazing.  Last time I went was in July and I had recently come out of the hospital because of a hemibalism (crazy arm syndrome) so I still had a bunch of serious crap in my blood.  It took Dr. Calzada like 5 minutes just to find any normal cells.  They were almost all deficient in something whether it was vitamin B, antioxidants, omegas and who knows what else.  He put me on a diet which contained of no red meat, very little chicken, lots of fish, no sugar, no white flour, no added gluten, lots of water, and making other good choices.  I was really good about following it until around Thanksgiving.  Then it was time to go back.  This time when I had a live cell analysis at least healthy cells popped up first thing.  But I am still taking a diuretic which has been flushing out a lot of important things my body needs like calcium, potassium and Iron.  My Iron levels are super low.  But now I am back home and once again determined to fix my body. So Santa will most likely be filling my stocking with oranges and apples this year.

Charity and Katrine watched Harvey and Jorgen for me while I was gone.  When I got home, poor little Harvey had the flu.  Of course I was covering him in hugs and kisses and cuddles.  So...now I have the flu.  Stomach flues have never been fun for anyone, but for me tonight has been kind of traumatic.  This year, the only times I have thrown up have been when I was really, really sick.  Like deathly sick.  So waking up tonight to puke flooded in all of those terrible nights sitting in a chair upstairs uncontrollably throwing up over and over for days.  For me, it almost feels like puking is the reason I still wouldn't pass the drunk driving walk on a line test, typing is so hard, changing a diaper takes 5 minutes (poor Jorgen). my left arm starts to curl up and my hand spasms out so I seriously look handicap every time I do anything physically straining and I can't look up without getting so dizzy I almost fall over. Obviously I know throwing up didn't do that but I just did so much of it this year that I kind of just feel like I should never have to do it again.  Come on, couldn't God just do me that little favor?  

I feel like my blog is such a roller coaster of emotions.  Sometimes I write and am totally content, other times I am pissed off and this time I am sick.  My life is a roller coaster of emotions.  

Speaking of emotions, I don't think I ever wrote about the time I attempted to sing in church about a month ago.  That was the most embarrassing day I have ever had, and not like the "I peed my pants in elementary school" kind of embarrassing.  (If you are sick of reading me whine, you should probably just stop reading because I feel pretty whinny today.) Anyway, last month I was asked to sing in sacrament meeting for our congregation.  This is something I used to love to do because it would fill me with the spirit and I really felt like I could inspire others through my voice.  I was excited to feel the spirit because I have been struggling lately.  The stroke has slightly affected my singing voice, but not so much that I sound bad, I just need to practice a lot which is something I never had to do before.  I did, however know I couldn't cry.  Unfortunately, I didn't practice and I chose "Where Can I Turn for Peace."  Stupid, right?  I got up there and sang the lyrics "Where can I turn for peace? Where is my solace?" I then made the terrible mistake of looking at my family, especially Cedric and I just BROKE DOWN.  I wish I could say it was because I felt the spirit and was having some kind of spiritual experience, but nope...I was feeling sorry for myself.  I was SOBBING with a couple of words in between.  I felt so stupid. I promised myself I wouldn't ever sing in church again but of course I will because I HATE this stroke and the effects it has had on my life and refuse to let it take me over.  My improvements may be slow but I am determined to keep improving until it is over and I am all better.  You Ban Fa!

This is the hardest time I have ever had and hopefully ever will have.  But it's not going to change until I change it.  That is much easier said than done but it will be done.