The Power in Letting Go

Yesterday I watched my 11 yr old daughter ride off into the sunset (actually sunrise) on her very first road trip/vacation without me. Y’all, I can’t describe in words the wide range of emotions I felt in that moment. Under normal circumstances I would still have a hard time with it, but almost 6 months after brain surgery and dealing with lots of damage from the tumor? Hard is an understatement!

But, I had to let her go.

I had to let go.

Of course I still have my baby, my Sydney. Oh I’m so thankful for this spunky yet sweet sensitive girl! img_5681
I think back to the moment we had to kiss Jada and watch her be wheeled into the Operating Room. I was an absolute mess. My dear husband was able to go further with her while Sydney and I had to walk out to the waiting room. The hallway leading out seemed forever long, yet not long enough. img_2813Once I went through those doors they would be one more thing separating me from my precious girl. But I had another precious girl to worry about and at that moment she was worried and crying and clinging to my arm. But the crazy part is, she was actually worrying about me just as much! In that moment we needed each other. We walked out of the doors and sat down in the waiting room. You’d think we were glued together. We sat there and cried together for what seems like an eternity. I comforted her, she comforted me, it was altogether heartbreaking and scary, yet amazing at the same time. I was letting go of one child and clinging to the other.

That still wasn’t the first time I had to let go and trust someone else with my daughter Jada. I mentioned in my last post that she was a preemie. I had no choice but to trust her into the Doctors’ and nurses’ hands as well as the machines. It was a terrible feeling knowing that they could care for my new baby better than me.
But that was best for her at that moment.

They were qualified for what she needed right then. If I had tried to take over and say I could do it because I was her mom, that wouldn’t have turned out well. I had to trust someone else with my baby because they knew what to do to make her better. And I had to trust God with her too, because, well, He’s God and He sees the big picture for our lives. We put verses in her isolette in the NICU as a reminder of that (Romans 8:28 and Jeremiah 29:11). scripturepic2

But because I did place her in the right hands, she got better and she grew. Then they placed her back in my hands once she was able to come home. I felt so inadequate and hoped I was up to the task. Years later I still don’t feel adequate but I do my best with the Lord’s help and a LOT of grace.

Back to yesterday. As Jada left with her MiMi, aunt and cousins to go out west on their trip to see the Grand Canyon, I thought of how hard it is for me to let go. You’d think by now I’d have it down, as much practice as I’ve had. But not so much.

I am wondering if God is trying to teach me through this, and if so, that kind of scares me. I had to let go and trust Him when she was born. I had to let go and trust Him when we found out she had a brain tumor and went in for surgery. And now, 6 months later, I’m letting her go again to feel some independence and have her own adventures apart from Mommy, Daddy and sister.

At first I said no way. I didn’t want her to go. She has so many extra things added to her routine. Traveling these days for her is not simple. She’s got her physical therapy exercises plus her lens and eye care stuff. But the Lord worked in my heart and I now realize how good this will be for her. She lost some independence with the surgery and since then we’ve had to be especially close by and help her with a lot. She has been slowly working on gaining it back, and getting good at putting her lens in her eye. (This is difficult to do when you can’t feel it.) she kept assuring me she would be fine. I know she will. She’s in good hands. But 9 days and hundreds of miles apart, I hope I will be fine!

So, I let her go. Again.

I trust God to bring her back to me in 9 days-8 now! Once again, my J is where she needs to be for this part of her life. To grow and learn, to gain confidence in who she is when her parents aren’t there. To feel more grown and independent. Do I like that? Not really but I have to accept it. I have to let her grow. And in doing so, I grow as well.

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When Jada does her physical therapy she has an exercise that uses a resistance band. One rep doesn’t count until she brings them back slowly. She pulls them toward her and works her muscles but she’s also working them when she lets them go back releasing the tension. She’s growing stronger when she pulls them to her AND when she lets them go slow and controlled.
I see now that I must do the same. Like the rubber band, I must continue to pull her close and enjoy the stage that she’s in. But I also must give her space and let her go in a slow and controlled way. Of course, I am checking on her a lot during the day, but also letting her enjoy the ride. I am sad in a way that I won’t be able to experience her first time seeing the Grand Canyon. But I won’t always be with my children for every experience they have. And I have to be ok with that. I look forward to hearing the excitement in her voice as she tells me all about it. At that point I’ll be pulling her close and hanging on every word- even just over the phone.

As hard as it is for us as parents, there is power in learning to let go-not be irresponsible img_5731and give them too much freedom, but in a controlled way, with someone you trust. But as for my “baby”, well not quite yet. I will let the Lord guide me and prepare me for that. And right now she’s waiting for me to get in the pool with her. I’m drawing her close these 9 days, because that is exactly what SHE needs right now.

 

 

 

 

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose. Romans 8:28

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11

 

Beautifully Crooked

One day- no, one moment- can change your life forever. Our family had a moment like this on November 30, 2015. It was supposed to be a routine MRI. I told her we would go get ice cream when it was done. I wasn’t able to follow through on that promise. What followed was the most terrifying day of my life since the day she was born (that’s a whole other story!).

My 10 year old daughter, Jada,

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The moment we realized her smile had changed dramatically.

had what we were told was Bell’s Palsey. Her left side of her face had been paralyzed for a month. I took a picture of her one day during a family bowling trip. “Smile!” I told her. She replied “I am smiling!” But no, she was not. It was only half of a smile. We ended up being referred to a pediatric neurologist who diagnosed Bell’s Palsey after a very thorough examination and put her on steroids and antivirals. But it didn’t help. That is what led us to the day that changed everything. We didn’t expect to find anything abnormal. She seemed pretty normal other than being a bit clumsy sometimes. So I didn’t know what to think when they got her a wheelchair and sent us straight to the neurologist’s office. I thought it strange, “My daughter doesn’t need a wheelchair, she’s fine. It’s her face not her legs that are paralyzed.” I texted my husband to let him know what was happening. He of course was wishing he had come and began to panic. He was an hour away.

Meanwhile, I tried to remain calm and collected for Jada. I had to be strong and not show how nervous I was. Then the Dr. Asked me to step into another room. With my husband on speaker phone, we heard the words we were dreading. “Your daughter’s MRI came back abnormal. We found a growth.” I went numb. My husband began to panic over the phone and made arrangements to come right away. I didn’t let it get to me yet, I couldn’t fall apart in front of her. I just couldn’t. It was a long afternoon of waiting. Waiting to be admitted, waiting for my husband, for the neurosurgeon, and waiting to fall apart. Then came the moment I had to tell my sister over the phone. It was the first time I had to speak it out loud myself. I stepped into the hallway where I could still see my sweet Jada playing on her phone through the windows in the doors. I began to talk but the word ‘growth’ could not come out. I couldn’t breathe, it hit me. This isn’t just going to go away by itself. I shuttered to think of what she was about to endure. Feelings of helplessness flooded over me once more. I had felt that before going to see my newborn baby in the NICU almost exactly 11 years before. We have called her our little miracle. She was such a strong little preemie, born at only 1 lb 10 oz. Jadapreemiepic We thought all the hospital stuff was behind us. I was always so thankful she didn’t remember any of it, she knows just what we’ve told her. But this, now, she will never forget. She’s reminded every time she looks in the mirror, or has to find a straw to drink with. Or when the itches underneath her skin come and she can’t scratch them away. And I can’t take it away. The days of kissing boo boos to make them better is long gone. 
When things are out of our control, we have to trust in our God. We don’t know why our daughter has been chosen for this journey, but we know He will never leave us nor forsake us. We also know God’s word says we must count it all joy when we go through trials. In my fear and trembling, He speaks peace. Though I desperately want to hear it, if I let the fear cripple me, I will not hear it.

Yes, we have a long journey ahead of us. But we trust in our God and we will not be shaken. My Jada smiles her new, beautifully crooked smile. And she is my hero as we walk this journey together.meandJa

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.                                    James 1:2-4

The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you;  He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.                                                     Deuteronomy 31:8

I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With Him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.          Psalm 16:8

First blog post

My first blog post. Well, actually this is my third time writing it. I keep having to stop writing to do something else and when I come back it is gone. But I’m determined to get this first one posted, and I will.

I never thought I would start to blog. I guess this is more of a journal for me to put “pen to paper” what all has been on my heart. The only reason I’m journaling here instead of privately is because God told me to, lol. I’m not the only parent that has had to watch their child suffer. In the moment everything happened and the weeks to follow, I had few words to share. My husband did most of the public updates on Facebook because I just couldn’t. My energy was fully focused on Jada and caring for her and making sure my youngest daughter Sydney knew that she was still loved and was still important.

I am finally finding my voice about all we have experienced and continue to go through. My prayer is that it can resonate with someone else as well. 

So, if you have followed our journey so far, praying and supporting us, Thank you! Maybe you’ll enjoy finding out more of our journey on a deeper level. If you are a parent of a child diagnosed with a brain tumor, it is scary, I know. But you are not alone, and will find strength you never knew you had.