When Dreams {{NIGHTMARES}} Become Reality

Monday night I couldn't sleep.
Not really.

Every time I closed my eyes, images would begin swirling and as they collided with my exhaustion, reality would drift far enough away for dreams to begin, but not so far that I didn't know I was dreaming. 

I was standing in line at Starbucks when he walked in and called my name. 

How are you? 

You look great!

It's been so long...

My eyes fluttered open, I kicked off the covers and got up to get a glass of water. Settling back into bed, scenes of downtown Tempe began to fill my mind. 

It was a Friday night and we'd just finished dinner at Oregano's. The sounds of people laughing and talking loudly mingled with the smells of food and cigarette smoke that surrounded us. It was exactly like every other night we'd spent walking down Mill Avenue. The only difference was that when we crossed the street, he didn't make it. Once I stepped up onto the curb and turned around, I saw him lying in the street.

I jerked awake that time and had to take several deep breaths to calm myself. My husband was sleeping soundly next to me and I wished I was too. As I rearranged my pillow, I concentrated on matching my breathing to his, focusing on all things calm.

There he was again. Standing there in a black t-shirt and jeans, along with his regular black Vans and sunglasses tucked into the front of his shirt, the weight of them pulling the neckline down far enough to see the top of a slightly raised pink line down the middle of his chest. I knew it was nearly 6 inches long but that's only because I'd seen it in its entirety.

Hey you!
Are you going to come to the hospital?
The doctors are saying this may be the last surgery I'll ever need. 
I'll be fixed!
Please wait there with my mom...

This time when I opened my eyes I had to talk myself into believing that the conversation I'd just had with him wasn't real. We'd always hoped one day the doctors would indeed tell him that he only needed one more operation and then his heart would be better but after 9 years of knowing him, I knew it was a long shot.

This was getting old. I had work in 3 hours and I hadn't managed a stretch of sleep longer than 20 minutes. Sighing in utter frustration I lay my head back down again.

I was holding his mom's hand while we sat in the freezing cold waiting room. The sterile smell of hospitals had always turned my stomach but combined with my apprehension and terror, the nausea was threatening to overtake me. We'd been waiting only 2 hours. Even still, those 2 hours had felt like 20 and when I looked up and saw the doctor walking towards us, mask pulled down around his neck, scrub cap in hand, and blood on his coat, I knew instantly that something had gone terribly wrong.

He's gone.
We tried everything.
Sometimes this happens.
I'm so sorry for your loss.

My eyes flew open and as I realized that my face was indeed wet with real tears, I could still hear his mom screaming.

No! 
This can't be happening!
Not my baby!
Please, God, no!

Seriously?! Why did I keep seeing him? I hadn't talked to him in 6 weeks and yet every time I attempted to get the sleep I so badly needed, there he was.

Somehow, an hour later when my alarm went off, I dragged myself out of bed and got ready for work. The morning was a rough one. Trying to convince a very cranky and sick 3 year old boy to do the most simple and ordinary tasks was grating on my nerves. My leg got cut by some glass and I got yelled and cursed at by a 70 year old Vietnamese woman. I had forgotten my breakfast at home and hadn't had time for my morning coffee. When my phone buzzed and I saw that I had a new message, I escaped to the bathroom to catch my breath and read the message.

When I saw the sender's name, my stomach dropped.

I felt like someone had kicked me in the gut, forcing my insides into my throat.

It was from her.
His mom.

As my eyes flew over the words shining bright on my phone screen, I suddenly felt as if I was being choked. I couldn't breathe. My head was spinning.

He's gone.
I found him this morning.
I looked but I couldn't find a note.
I wish I could say it was an accident.
It wasn't his heart.
The police are still here.
Had he contacted you?
He still talked about you all the time.
I thought maybe you would know...
He loved you.
I'm so sorry.
Where are you?
Can you come?

This could not be happening.
This was not real.
It just could not be.

I jumped as I heard the irregular rhythm of a 3 year old fist knocking on the bathroom door...

The rest of the morning was a blur. Upon arriving back at our apartment after getting L on the bus for school, it all threatened to crash down on me. I couldn't think about anything but the one thing I knew I shouldn't do. It was an incredible struggle. I forced myself to change and work out. The entire time I focused like I've never focused before. It felt impossible to keep going but as I did, the sweat and shortness of breath pushed down the choking sensation from my throat. Afterwards, I showered and got dressed. I had to meet my husband on campus at the Detachment and take photos of him and the other members of next years Wing Staff. I was angry. So very, very angry. The reasons I gave were irrational but I didn't care. I could not talk about it. I would not talk about it. 2 hours later I was back at home and in my room.

You will not cry.
This isn't happening.
Just keep standing and folding laundry.
You will not cry.
This isn't happening.
Just keep standing and folding laundry.

I kept repeating those words to myself. The next 2 hours were filled with the mundane tasks of folding, hanging up, and putting away 6 loads of laundry I had been avoiding. I did cry but just a little. Never longer than a minute or 2 and then I'd wipe my face, shake my head, and proceed with what I was doing.

5:30 PM found me on my bed, hugging a pillow, sobbing uncontrollably. The door opened and I heard my husband's footsteps as he walked around the bed. The mattress shifted as he sat down.

What's going on?
Please tell me what's wrong?
Rachelle you HAVE to talk to me.
I'm going to get some tissue and then you have 2 minutes to tell me.
Please talk to me.
What happened?

I didn't want to say it. I didn't think I could even manage saying the words. After fighting it some more, I gave in.

He's dead. He killed himself this morning.

I told him all about it. I sobbed.

Another good soul has left this Earth and in doing so, he left from my life. No longer do I have the option of checking up on him. There is no possibility of me running into him ever again. I won't ever have a chance to see him smile again or to tell him how proud I am of his sobriety.

Its completely nonsensical. How is it possible that someone with such a pure heart no longer exists? A heart that had made it through TEN open heart surgeries... How can it be that someone who had been sober and clean for 3 years, who felt like they finally had it figured out, and had a new lease on life, no longer have any life at all?

There are no words to accurately describe what this feels like. I have an actual physical stabbing pain in my heart. It's been 53 hours since I got the news that he was gone and I still can't believe it.

Well, that's not true. The tears and the pain and the sleepless nights are proof that a part of me knows and believes. I just wish I didn't. I wish I didn't have to.

I don't want to grasp the reality that the one good person from my past is gone.

I don't want to understand that the one person from my past that never made me hate myself more than I already did is gone.

I don't want to know that the person who managed to crack my stone-hard exterior after my best friend killed himself is gone.

I don't want to believe that one of the best people and men I have ever known is gone.

Above all else, I don't want to wrap my head around the fact that he's gone because that would mean I'd have to accept and understand that he was hurting so badly and was so blinded by despair and hopelessness and pain, that he felt his only choice was to slip a rope around his neck and before stepping off of the chair he'd planted his feet on, drag a razor blade across his wrists.

Really, truly knowing that would make me hurt more than I can comprehend. 

It would mean I failed.

It would mean I failed someone I had once loved and was still very near and dear to my heart.

It would mean that someone I thought had risen from the blackest and deepest depths of depression and found happiness, wouldn't have and that would mean that the hope his story and life had given me, wasn't ever real to begin with.

Another Phone Call

Life.

It happens.

Until a few years ago, I never really knew what that meant.

I thought I knew. I thought I knew what it meant, what it felt like, what it was.

I didn't.
I do now though.
Boy, do I know.

And if there was ever any doubt, I'm constantly reminded. Most of the time, it's me who reminds me but yesterday it happened to come courtesy of a phone call from a certain Air Force Captain. The same Air Force Captain who has been on the other end of several phone calls that reminded me of it.

Life.

Three years and 14 days ago, it happened.

Pain.
Terror.
Humiliation.
Guilt.
Rape.
Life.

Life happened.

It's nowhere near anything I ever thought would be a part of my life but on October 4, 2009 it happened and it is now very much a part of my life.

About eight months after it happened, I received a phone call from the JAX (AF Legal) Captain notifying me that the civilian court in Texas had declined to prosecute. The District Attorney had taken my case before a Grand Jury and despite all of the evidence against him, they returned a No Bill on my attacker. The DA had pulled the Grand Jury and discovered that there were three men who could not and would not be swayed of their opinions. To them, my swollen and bruised neck, the petechiae in my eyes from being choked and suffocated, the bruises in the shape of his hands on my arms and legs, the scratches on my back from his dirty fingernails, the bump on the back of my head were all indicators that I liked rough sex. They had no problem saying that in their minds, this was a case of a young military wife who cheated on her husband and regretted it so she cried rape. There was no indictment issued and he was then free to continue on to the base listed on the orders that had been put on pause when the investigation had begun. He was free as a bird and when he got to Little Rock AFB and his file landed on the Commander's desk, I got this phone call telling me everything.

In a phone call, it happened. Life. Again. In that phone call I felt all of that pain and terror and humiliation again.

The beginning of September 2010 brought another phone call. This one was to tell me that the Commander wanted to go forward within the military justice system and convene an Article 32 hearing.

In a phone call, it happened. Life. Again. In that phone call I felt hope. Life isn't always bad and I was reminded of that.

A week later Mr. Superman got a phone call. He was being deployed in two weeks.

In a phone call, it happened. Life. Military life. Again. I felt what I imagine to be the absolutely normal yet no less frightening rush of emotions that any military significant other feels when they hear those words. THE words. I'm deploying. A split-second later however my heart jumped into my throat and my head started to spin because yet again, I was facing the possibility of facing my attacker alone. All of these thoughts, and feelings, and fears overwhelmed me in a matter of seconds.... all because of a phone call. Again.

By the end of September my husband was gone and I was living with family in Arizona. The day marking a year since my attack was full of writing depositions, answering questions from lawyers, and praying I got to talk to Mr. Superman who was 8,000 miles away.

October 19, 2010 was our three year wedding anniversary. It was also the day of the Article 32 hearing. I was berated with questions from all sides. The Prosecution walked me through every single second of that night. THE night. The night it happened.

Pain.
Terror.
Humiliation.
Guilt.
Rape.
Life.

I answered the same questions I'd been asked by so many people, so many times. Then I did it all over again  with the Defense team. I was slandered. Embarrassed, mortified, terrified, frustrated, exasperated, upset, angry.... these don't even begin to cover what I was feeling. I did it all a third time with the Judge Advocate. Each time I had to use clinical terms and explicit detail sparing nothing. Three times. A few hours later it happened. Life. I had gone to an Urgent Care because of pain I'd been dealing with. It was a miscarriage. Our third angel baby was gone. I was numb by this point except for a tiny spark of feeling in my heart when the realization hit that I was going to have to tell my husband.

And just like that it would happen again. Life. Shock and sadness would follow the news I gave my husband. He would be reminded that life happens. No matter what, it happens. There's no stopping it. Even though it was our anniversary and despite him being 8,000 miles away in an active and dangerous war zone, the words I'd say to him would reaffirm the bitter truth of life. All because of a phone call.

It didn't take long before my phone was ringing and the caller I.D. showed it was the AF Captain. I didn't answer it. I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to face another phone call that would jar me back to the reality of it all. Life. I was sitting in a nail salon with my sister and we both had our feet soaking in mini-jacuzzi tubs. I was going to be flying to Salt Lake City the next day to spend Thanksgiving with Mr. Superman's family and was looking forward to a week of escaping reality. A few minutes after the missed phone call my phone buzzed to let me know I had a voice mail from the Captain. I ignored it. I don't know how many hours it took or if it took a few days but when I finally braced myself and put the phone to my ear, I wasn't prepared for what I heard.

"Everything has been dismissed. The Judge Advocate didn't feel there was enough to take it any further. As far as his civilian record goes, there is none. His military file shows that while he attended Tech School he was questioned about a SARC case but nothing more. Your request for an extension of the Do Not Contact order or a civilian Restraining Order have both been denied since everything has been dismissed and its now as if none of the investigation or incident ever occurred."

It happened. With an ignored phone call and a voice mail I was reminded of the cruelty and unfairness of life. Regardless of what we do or don't do, life happens. It always happens.

The last couple of years have been full of ups and downs when it comes to how I've dealt with and coped with being raped and subsequently having my rapist exonerated twice. There have been days where I felt strong and brave and as if I could see him on the street and be okay. There have been days where I felt like curling up in a ball and crying until my eyes were swollen and my head ached. I've lost count of how many days I have done just that.

Yesterday I was at work when it happened. Life. I was surrounded by a few coworkers and nine 3 year-olds singing fun songs when my phone began to buzz. Normally, I don't have my phone in my pocket while at work but we had just returned from a field trip and I had taken it with me to take pictures of all the kids. I took it out of my pocket to hit ignore but my heart stopped when I saw the phone number. When I got my iPhone, I never transferred numbers over so even though it didn't have the AF Captain's name on the caller I.D. I knew it was him. I'll always know who it is when a 501 area code is flashing on my phone screen. I jumped up and mumbled that I had to take the phone call. I ducked into a small room/closet at the back of our classroom and with shaking hands answered my phone.

In that instant it happened. Life. I heard the familiar voice of the Captain and could tell what he was going to say wasn't going to be good news. About ten minutes later I hung up the phone while furiously wiping my eyes and hoping none of the kids would see me crying. I stepped out and ran to the bathroom where I kept telling myself that no matter what, I had to pull it together and push it all aside. Life.

Here I am 3 years later and because of a phone call I got yesterday I feel just as raw and bruised and angry and terrified and embarrassed as I was the night I was raped.

Raping me wasn't enough.

Choking and suffocating me until blood vessels burst in my eyes and I nearly passed out wasn't enough.

Raping me again wasn't enough.

Slamming my head into a concrete wall wasn't enough.

Bruising, restraining, and hitting me weren't enough.

Slandering and humiliating me weren't enough.

Making sure I felt like I wasn't worth anything wasn't enough.

Getting to walk away free, twice, with no consequences and as if he didn't nearly kill me wasn't enough.

This person who took something away from me with no repercussions now has FIVE different attorneys assembling against me and looking for me so they can serve me with papers to let me know he is now suing me for defamation.

The Captain was calling me to let me know. Even though he was legally not supposed to contact me again after everything was dismissed, he did. And just like that, with a phone call this Air Force Captain reminded me that it happens.

Life.

No matter how many times we have been knocked down or disappointed, it happens. In spite of how we choose to deal with the past, it happens. Regardless of how good we are doing in our lives and how happy we are feeling, it happens. There is never any slowing it down or stopping it in its tracks.

Life.

It always happens.

Choices.

Do you think there are ever moments in our lives where if we had done just one thing different, no matter how small, we wouldn't be where we are today?

Think about that.

Now do you believe that our lives are on the courses they're on because that's the way its always been planned? Maybe not destiny per say, but regardless of the decisions we've made, we are exactly where we're supposed to be? Even if we had taken the left fork of the road instead of the right, we'd still end up in the same place?

I've always had the mantra of "No Regrets!" because without every single one of the decisions and choices I've made, the people I've let into my life, I wouldn't be the person that I am right now. I've also been raised with the belief that our lives, our families, every obstacle that is thrown in our way, was CHOSEN by us, for us before we came down here to do the whole Earth thing.
 
I chose to lose my babies?
I chose to be raped?
I chose to not be able to have kids?

Most of the time, that is REALLY hard for me to reconcile myself to but I think deep down, I still believe it.

Back in the summer of 2009, Mr. Superman was gone at BMT and I was living with my parents in Arizona. I ended up having surgery and getting my gall bladder and appendix removed about 3 weeks before I was to drive the 17.5 hours from Gilbert, AZ to San Antonio, TX to attend his BMT graduation. While living with my parents and confined to the couch, I tried to acquaint myself with the military world. I read everything I could, blogged about my end of the BMT experience and posted his letters, discovered military blogs, joined military spouse forums and found a military spouse Facebook group that allowed you to connect with the significant others of the people that were also at BMT and would be graduating the same time as your loved one.

After weeding out the whiners and crazies, or so I thought, I began regular correspondence with 4 military wives whose spouses were going through BMT at the same time as Mr. Superman and who would all be graduating the same weekend as him. It was a HUGE relief to be able to talk with other wives that were going through all of the same emotions as I was and as his graduation drew closer, I got more and more excited to not only see my husband but to also meet these girls who seemed so nice and who had made this experience a tad easier.

Now at this time, I had never even heard any of the stereotypes regarding military wives and tales of infidelity, contract marriages, drama llamas and I had NO idea what a tag chaser was.

My good friend guest blogged for me a while back and actually inconspicuously shared her thoughts about this very thing. Drama Llamas and the very people involved in this story which you can read HERE. She says it perfectly. As new spouses to the military lifestyle, you develop friendships and trust very quickly despite the oft times shallow and superficial nature of the people in the relationship. 

Oh naivety. 

I think I just automatically assumed that other women going through this huge lifestyle change and transition just like me, would be sweet, kind, and full of pride and love for their husbands. Little did I know that one of these women would soon be a part of the most horrendous thing that has ever happened to me.

I made the long drive to San Antonio with a friend and the few days spent there were so much fun. Seeing Mr. Superman at the Airman's Run was a shock. That crazy kid had lost 35lbs and 4 1/2 inches off his waist! Watching his flight at the Coin Retreat Ceremony was the first time I experienced that overwhelming pride inside my chest. The sting of tears in my eyes, my heart beating and racing so fast I thought everyone around me could hear it, the smile so huge my face hurt. I've felt that same pride innumerable times since then and it has got to be one of the most incredible things that comes with this military lifestyle that I am SO grateful for. Being able to come down from the stands and search for my man was chaotic but the minute I saw him and got that first tight hug, everyone and everything disappeared.

In the course of all of the events that weekend, I was able to meet up with two of the four wives I had been corresponding with and it just so happened that one of them had a husband who was in Mr. Superman's Brother Flight. She was a bit young but seemed to love her husband and told me she couldn't stand to be away from her husband for another 3 months while he attended Tech School in Wichita Falls, TX so she was renting an apartment down there. I was a bit envious so without giving it a second thought, I jumped at her invitation to pay half the rent and come down there too.

See Mr. Superman every weekday for an hour or two and longer every weekend? Yes please! Plans were made for this girl to drive down to Wichita Falls and leave her belongings and car with a friend, get on a flight to Arizona where I would pick her up and she would drive with me from Arizona to where our husbands were. She made a point to let me know flying was never an issue because her mom was a flight attendant. Nice! After driving the 17.5 hours from Lackland AFB back to my parents house in Arizona, I packed everything up, picked up this new friend from the airport, loaded my car, and began the 24 hour drive to Shepard AFB.

Looking back now at my choices leading up to me being in Wichita Falls, TX on October 4, 2009, I view everything differently. Every single conversation, every single thought and nagging feeling. Certain things seem so clear and obvious now while others, I don't know if I'll ever truly understand. I told you that I have a hard time reconciling myself to the belief that before I left God, I chose to live this life I'm living. The hurdles placed in my path, the hardships I've faced, and the heartache I've felt... I chose all of it. Regardless of what you or I believe, none of us has the power to hit the rewind button or the delete button. The things that have happened to us, the things we have done, the years that we have behind us, they happened, they were, and that fact won't all of the sudden cease to be.

I was naive.
I was betrayed.
I was raped.
I was choked nearly to death.
I was humiliated.


“But the past cannot be changed, and we carry our choices with us, forward, into the unknown. We can only move on.”
― Libba Bray, The Sweet Far Thing

To read the other posts where I open up about my attack, they can be found on my 'I Am A Rape Survivor' page. 

Whatever Makes You Feel Better

We all say things to ourselves to make things seem better or sound better than they really are.

Big things. Small things.
Things that we feel are important but we downgrade them so we can move on.

We rationalize.
We barter.
We halfheartedly tell ourselves that we're okay as long as (fill in the blank).

Its a part of human nature I suppose.

On Tuesday I was drinking a Snapple and I had one of these moments.
The lid held a revelation.
Kind of.

"The average sea turtle is unable to begin reproducing until the age of 25."

I told Mr. Superman, "I guess I have another 6 months before I should let it get to me. Just call me sea turtle."

My heart's not convinced.
Whatever makes me feel better right?

No More Excuses

I'm not fat.
I never have been fat.

I've had ups and downs in weight but never more than 15 lbs and like I said, even then, I wasn't fat.

I was shapes.

In high school I played basketball and danced.
I was in shape, I had fun, but I still had insecurities.

If only I knew that once I turned 17 my metabolism would go on strike and it would be a struggle from then on to stay healthy. Its a sort of vicious cycle, being out of shape and not having a ton of energy to exercise so staying the same and enjoying my carbs, butter, and sweets.

Well after years of making excuses and only having short spurts of being healthy and in shape, I quite literally have NO MORE EXCUSES.

Its a health thing.

Those who know me know about my HHT and after last year my hematologist told me flat out, I HAD to get in shape and start eating a little healthier. Nothing like a bunch of tumors and failing kidneys to scare you into a lifestyle change.

For me, diets and restrictions FAIL.

Forcing myself to stop eating everything I enjoy and making myself eat a bunch of stuff I don't enjoy FAILS.

Every time.

As of right now I've just cut out soda and most caffeine. I mean, come on, I still gotta have my chai! I am having smaller portions about 5-6 times a day rather than snacking my butt off and then eating way too much of an unhealthy thing once a day. It is super tough because I make sure I am on the same schedule as Mr. Superman. If we aren't mostly synced up on being awake and asleep at the same times, we NEVER see each other. We get in bed between 2 and 4 in the morning and are up by Noon at the latest and he takes off for work about two hours later. Its tough to get a good healthy meal in together and once he's gone and its just me and the puppy, I have a hard time finding motivation to eat healthy meals all on my lonesome. Cold cereal, pepperoni's, Ranch Doritos, and Mac & Cheese are always what seems easiest and yummiest to my tummy.

It stops here though.

Thank heavens for Pinterest because I found simple and easy exercises and workouts that I can do at home that will help me get my shapely butt firmed up and bring my six pack back.

And food? I already LOVE oatmeal and Cream of Wheat. I prefer wheat over white and I adore spinach, avocado, lean chicken and tons of fruits and veggies. Its about moderation and smarter choices.

Tonight for example, I was craving sweets and desserts earlier and instead of eating eggnog ice cream out of the carton, I got creative.

I started out by peeling and chopping an apple, opening a bag of frozen raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, mixing some coconut milk with some vanilla, a tablespoon of heavy cream, and about 3 tablespoons of Cream of Wheat. Oats went at the bottom of my bread pan, I put in the apples and berries, poured the coconut milk mixture over them and covered the top with a ton of whole oats that had been mixed with cinnamon and nutmeg. This amaze-balls concoction got baked at 350 for 30 minutes and is now in my BELLY!

So yummy.

Hopefully soon I'll be a little less shapes and a lot more healthy.

An Angel Has Her Wings

Early this morning, surrounded by her mama and daddy, Baby Daphne Dawn Reading returned to Heaven to be with the loving God who put her here on Earth.

When Danielle told me about her passing, she said, "She's just so beautiful and peaceful." I know she is too. She has the kind of peace that only comes when we are again back in the arms of Jesus.

The number of lives she entered and hearts she touched can't be counted.
The strength and will of that baby girl is to be admired.

Against all odds, Daphne made it to 19 days old (today).

The prayers of thousands proved that when hearts full of hope and faith come together before God, He shows us His infinite love through miracles.

No one can say why God chooses to do things the way He does them.
That's why He is God.
He can see so much more than we can.
Hearts can question but that only makes it more difficult for our hearts to let Him in. 

I know that for me, the past two weeks that I have allowed myself to just SEE the miracle of Daphne's life, I have been able to FEEL God.

About 10 days ago, I was feeling all consumed by sadness. I kept thinking, "Poor Danielle and Drew." I asked Mr. Superman how such innocent, perfect, beautiful little souls like Daphne could be given bodies that fail. Why? What he said has been stuck in my head since.

"It's not our job to ask, "Why?". It's our job to trust. You can feel sad because it is sad but don't feel sad for Daphne. She is the lucky one. She gets to be surrounded by love and prayers but when the time comes, she will not have to stay in such a terrible place. Daphne won't ever have to grow up watching this world and witnessing the awful things people do. She is so lucky to get back to Heaven where whether we realize it or not, we all wish we could be more than anything."

He's a smart man that husband of mine and even though its hard to let that thought, that TRUTH, stay at the forefront of my mind, it is the TRUTH.

 Daphne's Miracle

God sent a angel to the Earth...The sweetest angel too  

And for such a tiny little thing, she had so much to do.

She knew she did not have much time upon this Earth to stay,  

She did not waste a single second; she got started right away.

 

Her eyes were bright and sparkly, she took in every turn.
She did not miss a single thing, because Daphne came to learn!

God sent her here to touch the hearts of those He could not reach,
She taught them courage, strength and faith, because Daphne came to teach.

 

Her tiny little body was so full of God above,  

You felt it when you held her, because Daphne came to love.

In 19 days she managed what many never will.  

When she went home to Jesus, her purpose was fulfilled.

She learned and taught, loved and played, she taught her lessons well.
I know God is so proud of her. She's now truly home to dwell.

 

But when you miss her OH-SO-MUCH, you can almost hear Him say,  

Please understand, her work was done...
Daphne did not come to stay.

If you have cards, letters, or anything you wish to send to the family, I can be contacted at

rachelleorgan @ gmail (dot) com

At this time, the family is not in need of monetary donations and would like to extend their immense gratitude for everyone that has shared their story and continues to pray for them. 

<a href="http://simplysteele.blogspot.com/2012/01/enormous-miracles-in-tiny-bodies.html"><img src="http://i368.photobucket.com/albums/oo128/chambanachik/381854_10150500685078124_585278123_8905741_1791237492_n.jpg" /></a>

I will continue to have this badge on my blog. Even though Daphne has her wings now, her life and story can continue to change the world and touch countless hearts. Please join me in continuing to spread Daphne's miracle.

Call For Help

I can't even begin to tell everyone how utterly grateful I am for all of your help in sharing Daphne's story!! Even more so, Danielle, Drew and Daphne are feeling every ounce of love, peace, prayers, and thoughts coming their way from thousands of strangers.

I am overwhelmed and humbled to know such incredible and giving people. In the last 24 hours alone, approximately 4800 people have either been told about or read about this precious miracle baby girl.

Its incredible.

Now I need your help once more. Its going to be just as simple as it was to share her story and just as vital to helping this strong little family.

Medical bills are expensive. It takes a lot of money to help miracles along. The world of medicine is truly awe-inspiring but it comes with a price.

The very last thing any of us would ever want to deal with or think about, were it us in a dire and trying situation, would be, "How on Earth are we going to pay for this?" Its more than a nagging thought, it can be a huge weight at the pit of our stomachs.

I have had many people emailing me, asking me what they can send to help Danielle, Drew, and Daphne along this tough road they are currently on. People have already begun to send blankets and little toys, things to make everything just a bit brighter for them. Now, I will say that it takes A LOT of courage to say you need help. It takes an enormous swallowing of one's pride to admit you can't do it all and then ask for the assistance of others. I don't think anyone would dispute that.

Insurance exists.
A necessary evil ;)
Its truly a blessing for Daphne and her family right now.
The other thing about insurance, there are co-pays, deductibles, premiums...

For Daphne's insurance to be covered, Danielle needs to be working. As you can imagine, returning to work while things are still unsure and unstable as far as her baby girl is concerned, is unthinkable yet payments, LARGE payments, still need to be made.

Now here is what can be done to help.

You can contact me @ rachelleorgan @ gmail (dot) com if you are wishing to send either a check or any other monetary donation. I will be able to provide you with the information to be put on a check and a mailing address where it can be received.

If you are a business owner, crafter, have an Etsy shop or any other sort of creative talent you share with the world, there are a few options.

You can offer a promotion in which your products or services will be discounted for a time, then either all or a portion of the proceeds can be put into Daphne's name as well. 

You can hold an online auction where items you wish to sell can be bid on, maybe starting from a  minimum price then either all or a portion of the proceeds can be put into Daphne's name as well.

You could raffle off items, or a collection of items. People who wish to enter pay a small amount and then the raffle proceeds can be put into Daphne's name as well. In a raffle, you could make more money than if you sold off each item at your normal price!

Just think, you'd be doing a small act of heroism for this baby girl and her family. Your talents would be doing SO MUCH GOOD!

In addition to you doing an incredible thing, anyone who hosts any sort of giveaway, auction, raffle, fundraiser... anything, will be featured here on this blog and linked up all over the inter-webs.

I have a few other possible things in the works for fundraising and if any of those things happen, I will share those as well.

PLEASE continue to share Daphne's story and make a small sacrifice by donating in any way to this beautiful little girl.



<a href="http://simplysteele.blogspot.com/2012/01/enormous-miracles-in-tiny-bodies.html"><img src="http://i368.photobucket.com/albums/oo128/chambanachik/381854_10150500685078124_585278123_8905741_1791237492_n.jpg" /></a>

Tender Mercies

I have this incredible friend in my life who has continued to leave me in awe of her strength and grace this week. Danielle gave birth to an absolutely beautiful baby girl who was diagnosed with Trisomy 18. Baby Daphne has already touched countless lives and is proof of God's love and existence. Please, please, PLEASE keep Danielle, Drew, and Daphne in your hearts and prayers and no matter how long God allows this angel to stay on Earth, pray for all of the peace and comfort this amazing family deserves. 

We love you guys so very much and are blessed to have you in our lives.

You Should Practice Swallowing Your Words or Maybe Not Talking At All

Oh word vomit what a bittersweet relationship we have. On the one hand, I don't have much of a filter and severely lack the ability to bite my tongue, so I can appreciate when other people are brutally honest or don't sugar coat things. On the other hand, most people abuse you. Word vomit isn't supposed to be obscenely foolish or full of incompetence and yet so many humans don't grasp that their word vomit is just that. I guess once they vocabularily puke on someone who isn't able to suppress the innate desire to kick their teeth in, they'll start to catch on. 

But I won't hold my breath. 

We're used to people around us, most of the people we know/talk to, being (sometimes unintentionally) insensitive and just all around clueless about a lot of the things we have going on in our lives. We realize that multiple lost pregnancies, infertility, military life, and my rape are all kind of heavy things people will treat like landmines. Trust me, we grasp that fully.

Some people's excuse is that they just don't know what to say or do or how to act. 

Answer: NORMAL.  
Duh.  

To us, its just routine life, the life we've had for 5 years. There is no need for our conversations with you to be centered around the crappy things we've had happen. The last thing we ever wanna do is make people feel uncomfortable or be constantly rehashing the sometimes harshness of our past/present reality. We don't expect anyone to be fully educated or sound insanely cultivated on any of those subjects but most of the word vomit that abounds defies the normalcy of common sense. More often than not Mr. Superman and I will exchange glances that expressly involve the single thought of, "REALLY?!" and the more people tip toe around us and try to make conversations with us 'normal' the more dumb stuff falls out of their brains and off of their tongues. Its like the harder you try to be perfect at something, the more you'll find yourself making little mistakes but the minute you let yourself chill out and be the regular you, things will start to flow.

Unless you're a special brand of dim-wittedness a la Jessica Simpson or just flat out mean spirited, the conversations that seem to have been recycled for the last 5 years regardless of who we're talking to, need to stop.

EXAMPLES:

I get FB messages, emails, texts, and people telling me all the time about how sharing my story about being raped is disrespectful to my husband and I shouldn't be talking about it. 

We get told ALL the time that if we just relax, pregnancy and viable birth will just happen when the time is right.  

We are incessantly and without fail asked by friends and family when we plan on becoming parents. 

WTF? Again, REALLY?!

The first one I never even dignify with a response because that is just flat out, pure ignorance.

The second one is full of stupidity because trust me, if relaxing is all it would take for us to have a baby, I'd be more zen that Buddha. A) I no longer have the body parts and organs required to get pregnant on our own and all the relaxation in the world won't make those things grow back. B) Shut up unless you wanna get slapped. 

Lastly, the hardships and facts about our issues with having children are far from secret. In fact, people I've never even met know all the nitty gritty because its been all over this blog for years. Oh, and Facebook. And every time you ask us, we give the same answer. We'll have kids when we either win the lottery, someone dies and leaves us a fortune,  someone decides to donate the insane amount of mula our situation will require, or someone's 16 year old sister/daughter/niece/friend/cousin gets knocked up and gives us their kid. The one option I haven't tried is dedicating my life to becoming the best gosh-darn coke head street walker I can possibly be. Word is those lucky yatches get knocked up about as often as Charlie Sheen says, "WINNING!"


Really though...

When someone talks to us like they know how it feels to be more barren than the Sahara while holding 3 babies on their hips, I want nothing more than to stop them and ask them how stupid they're capable of sounding because I do indeed have a limit of how much I can tolerate before I just turn and walk away.

When someone complains about how annoying their kid is or how lucky we are to be childless and then drones on about how 'doing the whole mommy thing' is the hardest thing anyone could ever do I want to correct them and say the hardest thing anyone could ever do is not strangle you while you're rambling on like a world class dumbnut.

Now I'm not going to say this isn't directed at anyone personally (because I don't LIE) and because it is. I have to chuckle whenever I read someones blog or FB rant where they go off on something but then say, "Now no one take offense because its not directed at anyone." Why do I let out a jolly old "Ha Ha!"? 

Because its a fib and everyone knows its a fib. 

The person who reads that and believes you is probably the person you are dedicating that slice of vent heaven to. You're writing it for a reason and its directed at someone. 

I will say that this isn't directed at just one person. Its a whole slew of these word vomit users and abusers that this goes out to. If you have to think in your pretty little head if you've ever made me wanna flick you in the nose and walk away, you probably have but hey, we're all human and it happens. I know I bug the beejeebeez out of some people and that is just dandy because I have the peace of mind that I don't toss my verbal cookies in someones face over sensitive issues and I know I'm not mean, I'm honest. I can't give offense, you can only take it and that too sweetcheeks, is your prerogative.

What Day Is It?

What day is it?
Is it Friday?
Is it payday?
Is it the end of the work week?
Is it the middle of October?
Is it just another day?
I'm sure to most of you, the answer to all of the questions is yes.

To me, today is not just another day.
Today is October 15th, 2011.
Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. Established by President Reagan unofficially in 1988 and then established by President Bush in 2007 and recognized as a National day of remembrance, it does a great service to a cause most people don't give much thought to if they have never gone through it.

Today is a day that I take the time to specifically remember each of our angel babies. Today is a day that I tell myself it is 100% okay to cry about the fact that we never got to meet any of our babies. Today is a day that I have a constant prayer running through my mind, more so now for all of the people who have experienced loss than for myself. Today is a day that my heart hurts. Today is a day that I find myself thanking God more often for His Son and for the gift of the Atonement. Through that, I know I'll not only get to see my babies again, I'll finally get to be the mommy I have wanted to be my entire life to our sweet babies. 

Even though today may just be another day to you, take a moment and say a prayer for those who've suffered the loss no one should ever have to because its not just another day to them.

Great site to donate and support pregnancy and infant loss awareness and to learn more

Too Bad One Wasn't A Teratoma

Oh my dearest Lovelies, my dreams have been dashed all to bits!
Last week, I received some news.
Some very shocking, unexpected, nearly unbelievable news.

I went in for my incredibly fun, annual scans to check on my tumors rumtos.
My normal dude wasn't there. Boo.

Helga the Horrible (sporting the non-Brooke Shields unibrow) would not be swayed on telling me anything.

ZILCH.ZIP.NADA.BUTKUS.

She must not have been told how things work around there.
I show up, get my scans, make everyone laugh with my incredibly witty wit, and get sneak preview on what the doctor is going to tell me the next day.

Nix the rules.
They are my bladder, kidney, and thyroid gland tumors rumtos, not Helga the Horrible's!
Who is she to make ME, the super Mrs. S. with all my witty wit, wait?
Where was the justice?!
It must have been on a smoke break or something because even when I offered to tweeze her brow for her, she was not impressed.

Maybe I should have offered to take her for a wax?

Either way, that yatch wasn't giving in so I was forced against my will to wait until my appointment with my Doctuh the next day.

My appointments at The Cancer Center are always super duper long and leave me feeling guilty for having a full head of hair. I wasn't feeling particularly stoked about sitting in the Chemo waiting area to get my injections or the lab to get a bazillion vials of blood drawn for my gene testing, or sitting in the other stuffy waiting room that is full of the hissing sounds of oxygen tanks and the click clack of knitting needles, but it really was all unavoidable.

Mr. Superman hates coming back and wandering from area to area with me and I really do not mind just chilling there with my magazines, so he was up in the main lobby as always. Anyway, my amazing doctor comes in holding all my scans with a very furrowed brow line. He reminded me of Helga.

Imagine this in a super thick Indian accent. Well, his part.

"These are very, very clean."
"You mean... I sat really still?"
"No, they are clear."
"I took a good, non-blurry picture?"
"No, you are fine."
"Uuuhhhh..."

"I do not know what you did but all of your tumors are gone."
"Right. Uh huh."
"I am very confused, I have no explanation, medical or otherwise as to why they are gone. The last time I saw you, we had had such an infinitesimal amount of success, I was worried we were going to have to start going at them much more aggressively. They are gone. I am very confused."

By this point, I didn't even know what to say. I was about as stunned as Helga would be if she woke up with her brow shaved off. We talked some more and he kept assuring me he was not joking. He did not purposely admit to patients when he felt stupid or stumped. As I walked out and headed down to labs, I had this overwhelming feeling of just.... WOW. You know, the feeling all of you get when you think about my amazingness.

Anyway, I got one last round of injections to kill off whatever remaining bad cells I have and I don't see him again until JANUARY! I am getting tested for Lupus and a few other things because my blood disorder and the severity it is manifesting itself isn't making sense to him.

Well, just put it on his tab.

We let our parents know but we wanted to just let it sink in.
Its still surreal.
I'm tumor free.

We know what happened.
We didn't do anything.
God did.
He heard the thousands of prayers from all over the U.S. and He answered them.
I don't need medicine or science to explain this.
I do need to say thank you though.
My gratitude and love for all of you and for our families, is just so overwhelming its nearly inexpressible.

Thank You.

Even though I am no longer invaded by nasty little lump things, I am still a bit devastated.
My dreams of one of those little buggers being a teratoma wasn't realized.
Oh well, Nikki, no tumor in a jar for you.

I'm Not Back Yet, But...

People are driving me crazy. 

Have you ever attempted to be the bigger person but the more you try, it seems like people all over the place get more annoying, more insensitive, and the act itself gets seemingly more impossible?

I have.

Geeze I have. 

I wish I could just tell people exactly what I think of them, exactly what I feel, and exactly how WRONG they are without repercussions.

 

This has become my mantra and I so WISH I could walk around with this on a small portable billboard that runs on a constant loop. The more annoying or hurtful or ignorant the person is, the bigger and brighter this would flash.

Don't confuse silence with apathy or seemingly prevalent loneliness with the purposeful suppression of thoughts and feelings in an attempt to spare someone else's emotions.

Other times I wanna say, "Eff being the bigger person" and go and do what benefits me. Its almost an ever-constant tug-o-war. I have to keep myself in check, exercise epic self-control and make positive use of all my energy in moving onward and forward. The more space that there is between us and the dummies past, the better. 

Despite wanting to oft times throw ourselves on the ground, kick and scream, and then once once we are emotionally exhausted, just curl up in the fetal position and wait for the world to change, we must face the music. I don't know if you know this or not, but change doesn't just skip along and figure your life out for you.  Its about you putting your feelings on the back burner, sucking it up, and being the type of person this world so desperately needs more of. Rather than arguing back and wasting your energy on petty little things, focus on the words, thoughts, and emotions that will help you and even if it doesn't seem possible, the person that's making you turn into a crazy white girl who's about to open a big ol' can of wh...

Despite an almost instinctual reaction, we as humans need to sincerely think about what has been said or what we wish to say. Is any of it worth losing friends, hurting family, and losing ourselves to the compromise of what we know we SHOULD do? 95% of the time, you unknowingly become a self-deprecating pawn in the hands of negativity and pessimism.

 

Once I'm able to move far enough away from a certain person or a hurtful thing that may have been said, I'm able to start forgiving. Its funny really because forgiveness definitely isn't about another person. The act of forgiveness is solely and perpetually about US. 

It's Not A Tumah

 

Well actually, it is.

If you want an explanation as to why I have been so M.I.A. the last few weeks in bloggyland and real life, you can take up a complaint with the Tumor Department.

Apparently, a few of these suckers have decided to take up residence in the Chelle Hotel.

I know I've always been full of pure awesomeness and fabulosity and it is my belief that the Tumor Department was feeling left out.

Tumors that have thus far been discovered:

• 1 inside my Brilliant Bladder
• 1 on my Lovely Left Kick-A Kidney
• 1 on my Trusty (or not so) Thyroid Gland

Tumors that are believed to exist but were blocked out by all the extra fluid and blood that is making all the scans and x-rays blurry:

• 1 or more on my Reliable (or not so) Right Kindly Kidney

So Lovelies, I haven't been snubbing all of you, I have just been a tad preoccupied.

I had a biopsy performed on the one located in my bladder and have quite a few more procedures in my future. My situation is very tricky when taking in to account my HHT and other medical complications but I love my urologist and hematologist/oncologist.

There has been a lot of deep thinking and positive vibes buzzing around in my house lately because I refuse to accept anything but success and a good life. Prayers, crossed fingers and toes, wishes on stars and eyelashes, and smiles are always needed and appreciated more than we can say.

Just keep being your fabulous lovely selves and if anyone finds some of this. send it my way.

xoxo

Green With Envy

Guess who gets to have a needle aspiration biopsy TODAY?!

This girl!!

I know you're jealous.

It's no moustache but its just cool enough to turn all you Lovelies green-eyed.

Don't lie.

Nearly There

I've been struggling.

I won't say that its been lately because truth be told its been going on since October 4, 2009. So I have been struggling for long enough to know that regardless of all my endeavors and hopes that there would soon be a break through or an unimaginable nearly miraculous improvement, its not going to happen.

When someone is drowning, out there in the ocean flailing their arms, perhaps screaming for help as their mouths are repeatedly filled with salt water, they don't continue to get stronger as time goes on. They slowly weaken as with each attempt to force their heads high enough above the waves, their feeble cries along with the rest of their fading determination are forcefully shoved beneath the surface relentlessly.

Its dark, its cold, its terrifying.

I have been thinking in circles and going over events over and over and over again. I've hinted before but the hints are growing stronger and soon, a statement will be made. A declaration and story will be let out and hopefully then, I can stop the ever crashing waves for long enough to gain some clarity and eventually see a glimmer of hope.

I'm nearly there and when I am, it'll be the beginning of freedom. 

Oh How I Love the Rain

The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Working on the Seemingly Impossible

Sources: Wikipedia, LDS.org

"Forgiveness is typically defined as the process of concluding resentment, indignation or anger as a result of a perceived offense, difference or mistake, and/or ceasing to demand punishment or restitution.

The Oxford English Dictionary defines forgiveness as 'to grant free pardon and to give up all claim on account of an offense or debt'.

The concept and benefits of forgiveness have been explored in religious thought, the social sciences and medicine. Forgiveness may be considered simply in terms of the person who forgives including forgiving themselves, in terms of the person forgiven and/or in terms of the relationship between the forgiver and the person forgiven. In some contexts, forgiveness may be granted without any expectation of restorative justice, and without any response on the part of the offender (for example, one may forgive a person who is incommunicado or dead). In practical terms, it may be necessary for the offender to offer some form of acknowledgment, apology, and/or restitution, or even just ask for forgiveness, in order for the wronged person to believe himself able to forgive.^[1]

Most world religions include teachings on the nature of forgiveness, and many of these teachings provide an underlying basis for many varying modern day traditions and practices of forgiveness. Some religious doctrines or philosophies place greater emphasis on the need for humans to find some sort of divine forgiveness for their own shortcomings, others place greater emphasis on the need for humans to practice forgiveness of one another, yet others make little or no distinction between human and/or divine forgiveness."

I know my own religion teaches us that we must forgive. For us to be the people we are supposed to be, forgiveness is not only mandatory but a key to us achieving our full potential and true happiness.

Forgiveness is, for lack of a better word, hard. I'm not talking about getting up with out hitting snooze hard or working out every day and avoiding that cupcake hard but really, genuinely, my life has been altered and I am horribly affected daily, how can I possibly forgive, hard.

I'm trying. I am. Some days its a little bit easier to grasp the possibility while all the rest its simply unfathomable. I saw this video and it inspired me. Its beautiful. Please take a look.

“When you hold resentment toward another, you are bound to that person or condition by an emotional link that is stronger than steel. Forgiveness is the only way to dissolve that link and get free.” --Catherine Ponder

“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.” --Mahatma Gandhi 

"Somehow forgiveness, with love and tolerance, accomplishes miracles that can happen in no other way." --Gordon B. Hinckley