COVID 19, week 3

This week has been brought to you by the emotion "sad" and the number zero.

Zero is the number of days my kids will get to return to school this year. Zero is the number of hours or minutes my kids will get to sit in their classroom for the rest of the year. Zero is the number of mornings I'll get to coach 100 Mile Club for my awesome kiddos. Zero is the number of gold medals I get to give out to my kids who reached 100 miles. Zero is the number of days I will get to help in their classroom. Zero is the number of field-trips my kids will go on this year. Zero is the number of hugs I get to give our amazing principal. Zero is the number of programs and awards ceremonies I will be going to. ZERO.

Sad is the feeling that has overwhelmed me these last 2 days with the announcement of schools staying closed for the rest of the year. I feel like my kids are being robbed of 3 months of their 1st and 5th grade years. They both had THE most amazing teachers this year and now they will finish the year with 3 months less than they should have had sitting under such amazing and kind women. It had been such a great year academically and both kids were thriving! They were known and loved and it was exactly what they needed to grow and succeed. And now, the amazing we had is over. What if next year isn't awesome? What if they don't have incredible teachers next year? What if next year ends up being a repeat of 4th grade's struggles and valleys?! I'm so sad for our incredible administrative team at the kid's school. I'm sure they are now scrambling, trying to figure out what to do. So much pressure and such uncharted and unprecedented territory. My heart is so sad for the classroom dynamic that is lost. For the friends they were sitting next to in their classrooms. For the newspaper that was being created and crafted. I'm sad my 1st grader isn't seeing his best buddies every day. I'm sad he isn't getting to play and do recess with his friends. 

As we continue to move forward into this great unknown, I find that most days just pass by insignificantly and leave me wishing things had gone better. I'm not good at multi-tasking or focusing in a busy or loud environment. I find I can usually only do one thing well at a time and everything else gets set aside. It's week 3 and we're on our 3rd trial of how to schedule our days/week. We've tried something new each week in hopes of finding something that works. Trying to balance 2 adults working and 2 kids needing schooling is HARD. I can't expect my kids to be completely independent and teach themselves, they need guidance, they need reminding. A lot of reminding! There's a reason why I did not sign up to homeschool my children. There's a reason I have entrusted them to someone else to learn what they need to know in order to succeed academically. And yet, it's now up to me. I have been minimally engaged/present with work. Unless I'm on as actual Zoom call for work, I have not focused on work. I have a thesis to read/grade, I have 5 books to read/learn and 2 classes to prep. I have students who have been displaced and whose worlds have been turned upside-down and put on pause. I have students who still need hours to complete classes and practicums and the hospitals are CLOSED to them. I haven't had time to think of alternative assignments, activities or ways to replace clinical hours. All that said, I am so thankful to have a job where I can "work" from home and where I still get paid.

One other feeling that has been rearing it's ugly head lately is guilt. I am SO thankful that I no longer work in the ED, in the hospital. I'm so thankful that I get to stay at home with my family and I feel so guilty for thinking/feeling that. My former co-workers are out there every day putting themselves and their families at risk as they continue to provide amazing care for patients and their families. I feel guilty that I get to stay home and protect my family from COVID 19 by staying away from others and staying inside. My old co-workers don't get that chance. They continue to go to work, day after day, and the worst has yet to come. I'm sad and fearful for them, of what they will see and experience, of what they will carry with them for the rest of their lives. How many of them will get sick? How many of them collapse at the end of the day, exhausted physically, mentally, and emotionally, having nothing left to give and yet, they are expected to return the next day or night for their next shift?!? And here I am safe at home, not having to go anywhere or be with anyone other than my own family.

COVID19, Week 2 (Its only Monday)

Well, it's only Monday of our 2nd full week of being at home. Today has been a very Mondayish kind of Monday. I typed up a "schedule" for the kids yesterday, trying a new format and was feeling optimistic about the week. That was yesterday.

Today started off well and has progressively unraveled. We started our day with devotions together, reading Matthew 1. My son likes to call this our "family dinosaur". It wasn't as involved as I had hoped, but we did it none-the-less. Next up on the "schedule" was a kid's workout class led by a friend from college. My 6 year old was al about it and my 10 year old brought plenty of attitude. I joined the kids, trying to be engaged and intentional. I thought it was a great workout! By the time we finished, the rain had stopped so we went for a 2 mile bike ride. This Mama needs fresh air, exercise and sunshine!

Next up for today was a marine biology class. It wasn't quite what I expected but my 10 year old listened while she drew. We enjoyed the Cincinnati Zoo's daily safari over lunch and then back to "work". Well, the kids managed to finish their tasks quickly today and now they swear they've done everything on their list and have left for the backyard. A part of me is happy to send them to play as it means a quiet house for a bit. Today does not seem like we accomplished much or learned much, but thankfully tomorrow is a new day. There's a reason I sent my kids to school and chose not to homeschool.

Thankfully tomorrow is a day filled with interviews for prospective students so I will gladly hand off the "teacher" hat to my husband.

COVID 19, Week 1

It's been a week since I've gone anywhere other than on a walk down the street. Little did I know last Friday when I kept my kids home from school with minor illnesses, that it would be the first day of an indefinite stay at home. The world is in chaos as COVID19 runs rampant on every side of the globe. The status of the country, the state, and our cities changes daily as more cases are reported and as people in leadership are beginning to see just how serious this virus is.

I can't stop to think about our upside life and world for too long or else I start to feel lost, like I'm just floating in limbo, stuck in this surreal state of being. This whole thing is something they make up in movies. It is something we read about happening centuries ago. Were we really so ignorant and naive to think it couldn't happen to us?! And yet, here we are . . . living life with no end in sight to this unfamiliar and uncharted territory.

So much on my mind and heart as I think about it all. My kids. This is NOT what I ever imagined my kids would ever experience. We've done our best to isolate them from media and the hype/panic and have just told them what they needed to know and what they could handle at the age/stage they are in. They have adjust like champs this week to this new "normal" we are trying to create. They've put up with my daily checklists and they've played so well together. I try to tell them each night how proud I am of them for going with the flow and doing their best each day. I tell them that we are so lucky to be together, to have food in our fridge, a safe house to live in. But really, I want to tell them that "its not fair"! I want to tell them how much I hate that their birthdays are going to be spent at home with Mom and Dad instead of with their friends, doing the fun things we had planned for them. I want to tell them "I'm so sorry" for so much: that they can't see their friends, that they can't stare at screens all day, that they can't see their grandparents and their Aunt and Uncle. I'm sorry your sports that you love are canceled and that you probably won't get to play your first t-ball game or compete in your first swim meet. I want to tell them how much I hate that our first mother/son night has been canceled, that they can't participate in their class "wax museum" as P.T. Barnum. I hate this world for them right now.

What else is on my mind/heart? Guatemala. I was supposed to spend 3.5 weeks in Guatemala with some amazing students of mine. I was going to get PAID to be there! What?!?! Dream job for sure! My family was supposed to join us. We bought them tickets to spend 8 days with us. My kids were finally going to see the country I love with all my heart. They were going to get to use their Spanish and see another part of the world! We were going to bring child life to Guatemala this summer, my students and I. Not anymore. Because I was supposed to be in Guatemala all of June, I was going to get July & August "off" with the exception of teaching 1 class. We were going to go to the beach and go camping. We were going to go to family camp and summer camp together. And now? Who knows.

I'm so sad for my students. Their whole world is grad school and all the things . . . practicum, internship, graduation . . . and now? Classes online. No practicum. Internship online but not in a hospital or even with kids. And no graduation. I feel so sad for them. So many are away from home, alone, during this scary time. Not fair.

I guess what makes me sad is all the "should have been" things. The trip to Vegas and concert with my husband to celebrate 14 years together. The mother/daughter weekend we were invited to. The dinner we were brave enough to finally initiate with a family at church.The leadership class at church we were supposed to finish last weekend. My precious 3 year olds that we don't get to teach every Sunday. The weekends spent at Grandma & Grandpa's house that are now on hold until we've all been isolated long enough to be safe. The mornings spend at the kid's school cheering on the kids as they ran their miles-our gold medal ceremony and gifting all of the kindergartners with their 100 mile club shirts! The 5ams spent at the gym, getting stronger. So many things that I was so looking forward to are now gone.

Everyone now and then my mind wanders to the place of thinking, "what if?" What if this virus hits my parents? What if this virus hits my brother and his wife? What about my grandmas who are all alone? What if it hits our home? I know we're not invincible but I like to pretend we are. I can't go there. I can't even let my heart begin to think that way and about how they'd be alone and suffering. The hospitals are closed to any outsiders. Too much risk of exposure. I just want everyone to stay inside and stay isolated so they stay safe. Is that too much to ask? I can't lose them.

And yet, in the middle of my fear and all those "what ifs", there is so much good. I am so so grateful that we have jobs that allow us to work from home and still get paid. We have plenty of food to eat. We have a warm house with a heater that was fixed just in time to keep us cozy while we are home. I'm thankful for bodies that are healthy and can run and walk and ride and play. I'm thankful for the sunshine that has peeked through each day this week! I'm so thankful to live in a world filled with technology that allows for facetime with friends, live classes and workouts and for so many people who are creating awesome opportunities for the kids while at home and isolated.

I am most thankful to be able to fall into the arms of a God who sees. A God who already knows what the future holds. A God who provides. A God who hears my heart and sees my tears. A God who is good. He really is! I am so grateful for my faith and the reassurance that all things work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to His purpose. I am thankful for the promise of heaven. For the reassurance that HE IS WITH ME.

Lonely

If I'm completely honest, I'm lonely.

Life is amazingly wonderful and I am blessed beyond measure with a new job that I LOVE, kids who are pretty funny and love each other so well (most of the time), a husband who is steady and kind, cheers for me constantly, and so many other things.

But . . . I'm lonely.

My friends?
-2 live across the country (literally) and have busy lives of their own.
-1 is too busy taking a class and told me she had to focus until November.
-1 is in the midst of a huge life change and has a lot on her plate.

Yep, that's my current situation. 4 best friends, not connecting with any of them.

Since leaving my old job my "friends" from work have sadly become people who I follow on Facebook from a distance.  My table group from Biblestudy last season will continue to meet as I have to sit this year out due to school schedules. My running friends . . . well, when all you have in common is running and you haven't been running, it's a little hard to connect.

When the hubby and I were out on a date last week, I almost starting crying at a locally brewery. Yes, I have him and he is my best friend but its not his job to be my only friend or to have to take on the role that girlfriends should have in my life. He is an amazing listener but he can't meet all my needs for connection and relational intimacy.

So yeah, life is so amazingly good and incredible, but it's also lonely and quiet.

Being Real

Tonight I cried in class, in front of my students.

I was facilitating a discussion about ethics in the NICU and was sharing about how our book encouraged physicians to come alongside of parents and share the burden of withdrawing support for their baby. The book illustrates how when physicians help carry the weight of withdraw, parents feel less guilt and responsibility.

As I was teaching my lesson, one of my students spoke up. She had to make the decision to withdraw support from her child who was terminally ill years ago. Our conversation struck a chord within her and she was overcome with emotion and had to walk out of our class. Her response overwhelmed me and I felt so helpless. I really didn't know what to do or how to respond (we all know how horrible I am at showing emotion). As my students looked to me for what to do, I asked if we could pray for their classmate. I had no clue what else to do. They all agreed.

As I prayed, asking God to wash his peace over my student, I broke. My student had made a decisions that none of us ever want to make. As I asked God for His peace, His guidance, His comfort, I was overwhelmed with His ability to provide those things. I was overwhelmed with His presence with us in the deepest valleys and the darkest of days. When that horrible decision had to be made, He was with her. His constant presence in our lives, through the worst of the worst, it amazes me. As I struggled to find the words to pray, the words to ask for peace, the words begging for God to use us in the lives of these children and their families, my heart just broke.

As we engage with families and patients going through the worst season of their lives, He is with us. He calls us to comfort the broken heart to proclaim freedom for the prisoner. (Isaiah 61) Maybe that freedom is physical freedom from the prison of disease and pain. Maybe it is a physical freedom from the suffering of this life. He has called us to comfort those who mourn. He calls us to "bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair." I've always loved these verses, but tonight they came alive in a new way.

In the field that HE has called me to, there are times where I am literally working with children who have been burned and disfigured from fire. When there is fire, there is ash. He sees beauty in these kids who have been disfigured and whose physical body is anything but beautiful. And yet He sees their beauty and calls me to do the same. I've worked with so many families who have experienced despair and loss and grief . . . these families often feel hopeless and lost and forgotten. Still He calls me. He calls me to help restore joy and wholeness, to provide a means to navigate through situations that test their very being.

As I think about tonight's class I am reminded of the importance of being real, of allowing myself to feel deeply and to allow the Holy Spirit to work in me . . . even if that means letting myself cry. In front of my students! Once we were able to compose ourselves we had the most amazing conversation about the confidence we have in Christ. We talked about the hope of something more, the hope of heaven and wholeness. The reassurance and peace that comes from knowing that someone bigger than ourselves has a plan and is control.

Endings

2 weeks ago I ended job #2. I said "goodbye" to my precious families and thanked each parent for welcoming me into their home and for trusting me with their sweet child. It was a job that I took because I needed a change and it happened to pay really well. I had no clue what I was doing but quickly came up with themes and ideas and did my best to create lasting memories for my families. It was definitely challenging at times to come up with new materials, to play for a child for an hour, to carry the session as most of my patients couldn't see, speak, hear, etc. I learned so much. That job taught me to value each moment. To love each kid. To treat each patient as if they were able-bodied and to show their parents that the life of their child mattered. I learned to slow down, to be intentional and to show love to these strong and mighty parents each week.

Now I have 2 weeks left of job #1. I've been there for 10 1/2 years and almost 9 of those years have been spent in the Emergency Department. It's bittersweet to think of leaving the place that has become like home; the place where I grew as a specialist and figured out how to really do my job and do it well. I have been blessed to work alongside of some of the most incredible nurses who are smart and strong and so very good at what they do. These ladies (and a few men too) save lives on the daily. They give everything they have to love and care for their patients and working with them has been such an amazing experience. My life is richer and I am stronger and better because of them!

Last night one of my favorite physicians was on and when I left I began to feel that bit of sadness creep up, knowing that we may never work together again. How does one begin to say "thank you" to the nurses and doctors who I worked alongside the last 9 years? Do I leave a card? Do I bring a treat? How do you let them know just how appreciate they are?!?!

I suck at "goodbye". I much prefer to just sneak away and not have to deal with the emotions and feeling that are associated with last days and goodbyes. A whole chapter of my life has been spent at that place. I started their mid grad-school and now 10.5 years later have 2 kids and am now teaching others how to be specialists. It's crazy how time flies!

1/2 Way

Tomorrow is week 8 of teaching. Tomorrow I will be officially 1/2 way through teaching my first class/semester of grad-school. When I started I really wasn't sure what I was going to think, but I liked the idea of trying something new. Well, turns out I really love it! I have an incredible group of 11 ladies who are excited and passionate about becoming a Child Life Specialist and they are a joy to teach! It's 1am and I just finished putting together my 1st midterm and I'm almost finished with  tomorrow night's lesson/power point (I think).

I've been trying to get my lesson/lecture done by the time Tuesday comes so I can focus my efforts/energy on going for a run and playing with my little guy...otherwise he watches WAY too much YouTube while I lesson prep/plan. I still have a bit more to do for tomorrow, but not much. And besides, he has 4 new lego cars to build and another fun Christmas gift needing to be painted.

It started raining an hour or two ago and it's been kinda relaxing to listen to the steady falling rain as i've been prepping. I saw 4 patients this morning and then picked the kids up and went straight to their swim lessons. On the way home from swim I was overwhelmed with the business of life and all that needs to get done, but this rain has been calming and quieting. I am thankful. I don't know when I last stayed up til 1am, or even past 11:45pm, but I am choosing to be grateful for a quiet house. I am grateful for the rain. I am grateful for the ability to read, the knowledge of how to make a Google Slides presentation and find relevant videos on YouTube.

I forget all too often to be grateful and thankful for all of the blessings in my life. I let stress and anxiety get the best of me and I'm left feeling empty and overwhelmed. But HE KNOWS. He knows my days. He knows my future. He is FOR me. He has brought me this far and He won't abandon me now!

Nobody reads this anymore and I love that. I love that I have a space of my own to jot down a few thoughts and process a bit before moving on.