instagram-style life update

Oh hey there, Poor Little Neglected Ol' Blog O'Mine. It's been...awhile.

Life. 'Tis a busy thing.

I'm not utterly convinced that I want to keep up restart this whole blogging deal, but for the moment, while I'm procrastinating doing other, more productive things, how about a bit of an update from where we last left off? Fortunately, despite the amount of time that has lapsed since I last posted, a good chunk of that time was insanely busy beyond words and is therefore too much of a blur to remember many details, so for once I can probably summarize the last ten-ish months without rambling on forever.

October

finished 4th semester clinicals

Started a second job, because, I mean, one job + nursing
school just isn't enough

December

Survived the semester and watched my brother graduate
from nursing school {on a freezing cold day on which we
also got locked out of Hannah's car and therefore took
this oh-so-flattering selfie as we waited in Paul's car
for AAA to show up).

Roadtripped to Tennessee and got to spend a few days
with Hannah's wonderful family.

While in Nashville, I also got to see this dear friend for
the first time in years!

Then we trekked across the state to hang out with our
family in a lovely cabin in the Smokies...AND...these
two fabulous people got engaged (in the same spot
where my parents got engaged, which also happens
to be one of my favorite places in the world).
CONGRATULATIONS, PAUL AND HANNAH!!!

On Christmas Eve, Cheyenne and I traveled to Haiti,
where we were greeted by my favorite little girl.

Christina was able to spend several weeks with me at
the maternity center, which was wonderful.

January

And then...back to Texas...
for a super cold and crazy-busy semester...

...that consisted of a lot of coffee and a lot of studying
in between class, clinicals, and jobs.

Every once in a wonderful while I had time for
a post-close Fuego run. I mean, who doesn't
love eating tacos at midnight? :)

February

One of the highlights of my spring was getting to go
to Dallas with these lovely ladies for Taylor's baptism!

March/April

My handsome nephew was born at the end of March!
CONGRATULATIONS, KEVIN AND DANIELLE!!!

Paul and I got to travel to Florida for several days
to meet Emery when he was two weeks old.

May

At the beginning of May, I interviewed for (and got!) my
#1 {local} choice of jobs :)
And then...the moment we were afraid would never come...
THE LAST DAY OF NURSING SCHOOL!!

Oh hey, we're both nurses!

Aaaand I had time to breathe again (well, a little...boards
were still to come)!

Made a quick trip to Boston to visit a friend.

 June

Spent the weekend before taking boards holed up in a hotel
room in Dallas. I did surface for church on Sunday and for
a quick but wonderful visit with Taylor & Shelby!

Grateful, grateful, grateful for all of the prayers and words
of encouragement from so many friends before NCLEX.
I am so blessed to have so many amazing and
thoughtful people in my life.

And then...then I got caught in a sudden
downpour as I went to take the biggest,
scariest exam of my life. Consequently,
I took boards dripping wet and looking
like a drowned rat. C'est la vie.

Nonetheless...48 hours later, I got this great news!
Major relief would be an understatement.
And surreal. So surreal.

Meanwhile, as soon as I took
my exam, I headed out of the country
and back to this beautiful little girl!

Christina and I stayed at the maternity center again
(thanks, Beth Johnson, for your hospitality)!
There were several births while I was there, and the
Heartline midwives were so kind as to let me catch one
of the babies (who was born in the caul)! So fun.

We got to go the beach one day...

...which Christina and I both loved :)

 July

Obligatory photos of our 4th of July outfits :)

And then...back to the States to start my new job.
(Oh. Finished up at job #2 at the beginning of June, so I was
down to just 1 job for a whole month before starting at the
hospital!)

RN badge > Grad nurse badge
:)

One day I'll quit. Really. #eightPOINTfiveyearsandcounting

August

Lina came for her annual Texas vacation!
Thanks, Taylor, for picking her up at the airport for me!

Birthday girls! (Technically, Lina's birthday is in July,
but it's tradition to have a Texas birthday party for her.
Last year it was in June, this year it was in August.
Close enough.)

party people :)

And then...it was time to send Lina back to Florida :(
But first, we went to see a performance of Les Mis in Dallas!

So there ya have it -- most major life events since October as recalled by Instagram ;) These past several months years have been super crazy, and there have been many times when I've felt overwhelmed and/or out of control (though let's be honest -- when have I ever really been in control?). Dramatic though this will sound, there were definitely times when I didn't know how I was going to make it from one day to the next (let alone from one semester of nursing school to the next). So many doubts, so many fears, so much to do, so little time. But. God has been so faithful...not to provide necessarily what I want...but to always provide what I need. He's pretty wise like that ;) Mmm...so let this be a reminder to me when I again (probably two seconds from now) am unsure...overwhelmed...in need.

Lamentations 3:21-24

 But this I call to mind,
    and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
    his mercies never come to an end;
 they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.
 “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
    “therefore I will hope in him.”

season by season

Great is thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me 

Morning by morning I wake up to find 

The power and comfort of God’s hand in mine 

Season by season I watch Him, amazed 

In awe of the mystery of His perfect ways 

All I have need of, His hand will provide 

He’s always been faithful to me. 

Sara Groves

More likely than not, if you talked to me for more than a few minutes at any point between May and August, I probably mentioned (or at least alluded to) my utter dread and anxiety about the upcoming Super Scary and All Too Imminent Fourth Semester {of nursing school} that I was about to begin. From day one of the nursing program (literally, since we walked into orientation), my classmates and I have heard nothing but anxiety-producing things about how hard/awful/stressful/drown-in-a-puddle-of-tears 4th semester is. Needless to say, it was not exactly something I was overly looking forward to. 2nd semester was stressful enough, and I couldn't even comprehend how it possibly (but supposedly) could get worse. Add to that leaving my Haiti home and all of the people I love there and returning to my Texas home just in time to start back to my work and school whirlwind... There were definitely a few days where I merely existed in a daze of Haiti-withdrawal/school dread/emotional meh (ßtechnical term).

Thankfully (oh so thankfully), God has once again been so faithful to move me from that place of being overwhelmed by nearly every little thing  into a place where I am frequently reminded of how very much He has blessed me--in so many ways, but especially with the people He's placed in my life. I am surrounded by so many wonderful and supportive and encouraging people, both near and far, and that truly makes all the difference in the world between drowning in that puddle of tears and being able to "chin up" and keep going on the not so great days. And you know what? The "not so great days" have been much fewer and farther between than I'd feared. That's often true, I guess, that anticipation is worse than reality.

Anyway, all of this to say, I am grateful. Grateful to God for His faithfulness in providing exactly what (and who!) I need in the moment I need it, and grateful to all of you wonderful people -- family, friends, coworkers, customers, fellow church members, classmates, Haiti friends -- who add such joy to my life. So thankful.

In other happy news...

My first niece or nephew will be arriving in Spring 2014 :) Congratulations, Kevin & Danielle!

Paul made the brilliant decision in August to date this amazing girl, and I'm thoroughly enjoying watching their relationship grow. I also got a trip to Nashville and an introduction to Beaver Nuggets out of this deal ;)

Last but certainly not least, this little one turned six in September!

Happy Tuesday, everyone!

loved & missed

I am not a theologian or a scholar, but I am very aware of the fact that pain is necessary to all of us. In my own life, I think I can honestly say that out of the deepest pain has come the strongest conviction of the presence of God and the love of God. . . Heaven is not here, it’s There. If we were given all we wanted here, our hearts would settle for this world rather than the next. God is forever luring us up and away from this one, wooing us to Himself and His still invisible Kingdom, where we will certainly find what we so keenly long for. 

- Elisabeth Elliot

re-acclimating. or something.

51 days. 2 countries. 8 states. 4 flights. 35+ hours of driving. Births. Deaths. New & old friends. Tears. Laughter. Hope. #andthatsawrap (repost from 8/22)

Adjusting to being back in the States is always hard for me (for many reasons), and not too surprisingly, coming back this time has been harder than ever. Yes, I know that I need to be in the States right now; I need to work and to finish school so that I can be in Haiti full-time next year. And I'm definitely glad to get to see and catch up with friends and family again -- it was especially good for my heart to get to catch up with several friends at church tonight. For those reasons, then, it is good to be back. 

But am I glad to be back? Not so much. Or at least, not yet anyway. Although I'm trying my best to not mope around missing Haiti, there's no denying that so much of my heart is still in that little country that I love, with my friends at Heartline, with the ladies and their babies in our programs, with Christina...and re-acclimating to Stateside life has been a bit of a challenge thus far. Doesn't take much for my mind to make the leap from a dosage calculation review session and a question on methyldopa to memories of giving that drug to a sweet Heartline mom who developed high blood pressure during labor and who still struggles with that postpartum. Or when a classmate makes a comment about wanting another week of vacation with her son (and who wouldn't?), all I can think is that it's been a week since I've seen Christina, and it'll be at least another 4 months before I see her again. Or when our instructors are explaining how important it is to be precise with dosage calculations, always, but in particular when you're giving medication to a 3lb baby -- then my mind is off thinking about the preemie I helped care for at Heartline in May, and the teeny little baby that Paul and Hannah cared for last month at Real Hope for Haiti. Not that I'm hosting myself pity parties (again, I know, I really do, that it is good that I'm here for now), but these are just a few examples of how it doesn't take much right now to put me in a somewhat disoriented state of melancholy.

All of that to say, I guess, please be patient with me, Texas friends, as I try to find the balance between loving/missing Haiti and being fully involved again in life here. It may take me a little bit to regain enthusiasm for things here, but slowly but surely I am getting there. And prayers, of course, are always welcomed and appreciated :)

Clockwise from top right: Paul & Hannah; Agathe, Anna,
Cherline & Beth M; Schnieder; Sherly, Jonathan & Taylor;
Kevin & Danielle; Alix, Katia & me; Christina & Sherly;
Richard
Center: Wini, Marie Alineda, me & Sarah

summing it up

The passage of time can be such a strange thing; how can six weeks seem like forever (in a good way) and yet go by so mind-spinningly quickly? How is it that it simultaneously seems like it's just been a few days since Taylor and I arrived in my Haiti home...and yet it also feels like a lifetime ago? Don't ask me to make sense of this.

Six weeks. 43 days in that place that I so love. How do I sum up all of the joy - the tears - the hopes -the pain - the laughter that I both saw and experienced in that short-long time? The gift of being present to witness the first breath of a new little life, of seeing a mother connect with her child for the very first time. The heartache of knowing so many whose stories are difficult to hear, let alone to comprehend the reality of what they face. The renewed realization that we serve a God who alone can (and does!) rescue and redeem and save. 

Joy and sadness intermingle in much of the day-to-day life at the maternity center, in many of the lives of the women we are blessed to get to know and serve. Being there for a little bit longer this time allowed me to begin to see that more fully, to start to learn more than just names and due dates. It allowed me the privilege of hearing their stories, of being invited to share in even a small piece of their lives. For this, I am both immensely thankful and humbled to have been given such a gift. I've shared some of this quote from Beth McHoul before, but I'm going to post it again, because it so profoundly expresses the heart behind the ministry of the maternity center: 

The heartbeat of our maternity center is our relationship with our women...Our maternity center sees a lot of joy, we have a lot of fun and witness the miracle of birth over and over.  Sometimes it is required of us to dip our cups into a well of sorrow and grieve with people in loss.  And this we willingly do because the word midwife means to be “with women” and Christian means to be “like Christ”.

Se sa. What a privilege it is to get to come alongside so many women and walk with them through such a significant time as pregnancy, childbirth, and the early months of parenting. To be given the opportunity to enter into their joy and hopes and dreams and, yes, at times, even their sorrow. To get to know so many wonderful, strong, resilient, faith-filled women. To share even a piece of life together. What an incredible, beautiful gift.

I am so grateful for the time I was able to spend in Haiti this summer. Thank you, thank you, thank you to each of you who made it possible for me to be there and, especially, for all of your prayers. Being able to spend the summer in my Haiti home means more to me than I can say, and I am all the more excited (and impatient!) now for next year (hopefully) when I can be there full-time. But, in the meantime, for the next several months at least, back to Texas/Starbucks/nursing school (via Nashville ;) I go!

glimpses

She moans as another contraction begins. "Oy, mezanmi, li fè mal!" Oh my goodness, it hurts! She sinks to the ground, resting her head on the low couch on the maternity center porch. "Mwen pa ka fè  sa anko!" I can't do this anymore.  We coach, we encourage, we get stern... "Try this position, this will help the baby descend...You can do this, you are strong...Get up, keep going, you cannot just lie here and give up."  It's been nearly three days, but her labor has not yet become "cho"; she still has a long way to go, and lots of hard work to do before her little one is in her arms. But she is tired. She is young. She is scared. She has little support from her family. Her ability to cope with being in labor has deteriorated rapidly; if this goes on much longer, her baby, too, will start exhibiting signs of distress.


She comes to the maternity center for a pregnancy test. Positive. "Is this your first baby?" we ask. Yes. Are you happy? No answer is needed; she is glowing with excitement and joy.


Midnight. There is banging at the gate. Sleepily, I stumble to the door of the apartment above the maternity center where I am staying. There's a woman here, and she's bleeding, the night guard tells me. As I unlock the door to the birth room, I question the woman: Are you having pain? When did the bleeding start? Have you felt the baby move? I check her blood pressure and fetal heart tones. Both are good. I am relieved, for the moment. She stands up to go to the bathroom, and there is blood. So much blood. I call another midwife: "It could be a previa! I'm on my way!" She arrives with the ambulance, and we quickly load up the woman and drive through quiet streets to the hospital. Port au Prince is eerie at 1am. We pull up to the entrance of the hospital and give the woman instructions on what to tell the staff, knowing that we won't be allowed in to tell them her history and our suspicions. We hope and we pray that the doctor is there, that the operating room can be quickly readied if necessary, that she will be treated with dignity, that she and her baby will be well. We head back to the maternity center with heavy hearts, thinking of all the pain and the sorrow she has already endured in recent months and years.


She places her baby on the scale for his weekly weigh-in. We both smile; he is continuing to gain. This once tiny baby, born long before his due date, is thriving, thanks to his mother's complete dedication to the hard, never-ending work of keeping him alive in a country where all odds are against him. His now-chubby cheeks are a testimony of her love; they both are a testimony of God's mercy and grace.


She sits quietly on the exam table, as her new guardian begins to tell us her story. Barely a teenager, yet she is a mother. She never knew she was pregnant, and it is hard for her to believe that she actually had a baby. Working as a child-servant in a family member's home, raped by someone more than twice her age, her experience is beyond heartbreaking, though tragically all-too-common. Thankfully, she is safe now, having been rescued by an organization that has taken her in and will send her to school and teach her a trade. May beauty rise from the ashes of the childhood that was stolen from her.


"Sa se kè pitit ou!" That's your baby's heartbeat! she is told, as the midwife holds the fetal doppler to her belly. Tears begin to fall from her eyes, as this teenager, who is all alone in the world, connects for the first time with the tiny person who is growing inside her. From this moment, she is changed; she is excited about and invested in this new little life in her womb. She picks out names and cuddles with other mothers' babies. She exudes fresh hope.


She flees the hospital in the middle of the night, unable to face the possibility of losing another child. Her baby hovers between life and death, and only God knows if this little one will survive to know her mother's love.


She steps onto the porch, clearly feeling out of place among the other moms who are visiting with each other. I step over to welcome her and ask how she knew to come. She says she was given a flyer by a woman in her neighborhood. I can feel the smile on my face freeze as I uncover her baby. His wrinkled skin and gaunt appearance leave no room for question; this child is starving to death, and something must be done immediately. We examine the baby and talk with mom. We explain the severity of the situation and teach her how to breastfeed him, and we tell her that if she is committed to this, she can save his life. Other moms surround her, telling their stories and giving encouragement. She is so young, not even eighteen, but she seems to get it. We tell her to bring the baby back in two days, and she does. We weigh him, and he has gained! We celebrate, and we commit to continue to walk through this journey with her.

*************************************************************

It is with a bit of hesitation that I share these glimpses into the lives of these women and babies that we're blessed to serve here at the maternity center. I share these things not to garner either sympathy or praise, but to give a picture of both the joy and the heartache that are a part of daily life here, and to say again how very desperately we need and appreciate your prayers as we seek to best serve those who come through our gate.

I am so incredibly thankful for the opportunity to get to know the women here and to share in some pretty pivotal moments in their lives, to laugh together, to cry together, to pray together. As Beth McHoul wrote so beautifully a few months ago,

Our maternity center sees a lot of joy, we have a lot of fun and witness the miracle of birth over and over.  Sometimes it is required of us to dip our cups into a well of sorrow and grieve with people in loss.  And this we willingly do because the word midwife means to be “with women” and Christian means to be “like Christ”.

That is why we're here. To love, to serve, to rejoice and to mourn with the women that God brings into our lives through the ministry of the maternity center--and ultimately, to point not only them but our own hearts as well to the only One who can meet all of our needs and satisfy our deepest longings. What an incredible, amazing, wonderful gift.

melancholy and photos

To say that I love being back in Haiti would be an understatement. This place, to which I have traveled for over half of my life, has really and truly become home.

************************************************************
That's as far as I got with attempting to blog while I was in Haiti back in May, and I just now rediscovered this beginning to the-post-that-never-was, as I'm again trying to figure out how to put into words some of my thoughts, some of my experiences, some of my feelings about my Haiti home.

I've been back one month so far, this go around, with a mere 10.5 days left. Some people (Paul) might say it's premature, but yes, I am already getting slightly panicky at the thought of leaving again so soon. Yes, I know it's necessary -- I have to go back, to attempt to survive my fourth semester of nursing school, to go back to brewing coffee to make money and drinking coffee to maintain (achieve?) my sanity -- but oh, how I dread that moment when I have to pack up my bags, to say goodbye (just for now!) to my Haiti friends...to Christina... Because yes, Haiti has my heart. Has had it since the moment I first set foot on Haitian soil nearly 15 years ago.

But, enough of the melancholy for now. I may only have ten days left, but still, I am so thankful for ten more days. That's longer than I had when I was here over Spring Break, and just a little shorter than the time I spent here at Christmas, and a lot can happen in a week-and-a-half. May I make the most of and be grateful for each moment! And speaking of gratitude -- thank you, thank you, thank you to all of you who are praying for me, for Heartline, and for the women and babies in the maternity program and in this community. I cannot overemphasize how much your prayers are needed and how much they are appreciated. Thank you, too, for those of you who have made it possible for me to be here this summer. I am so grateful.

I'm thinking this is going to be a bit of a cop-out post, resorting to posting pictures rather than actually saying much at this point, but...let's start with this, and hopefully soon I'll be ready to share more in words. So, here's a quick* photo summary of the past month (in no particular order):

making cookies with Wini and Nirva

Agathe, Ana, Cherline, and Beth

with baby Richard

Guernise and Alexander

Mama E and Emmanuel

twins! with Mom and Grandma

self-defense class at the OK

miss you, Melissa!

Taylor with just-born baby Richard

Jude and Christina

Shelly and Taylor, about to give blood at MSF

lunchtime at Notre Maison 

Jonathan and Christina

TJ and Christine

Taylor and Christina

Beth and Tara - love these two!

horse therapy!

Jephte

back in the same country!

Michael

Lernie and Woodson

Schnieder

the Big Latch On - representing Haiti

Guernise, sharing her story with Yolande

Fabienne and Lochemie

Yolande and Schnieder

excited about her positive pregnancy test

*Just kidding, not so quick. It's hard to narrow down a month's worth of pictures, especially when so many of them contain cute babies!