Giving up is not an option, although I can guarantee that many of you like myself have often thought, “I’m just so tired, I can’t handle this battle anymore!"
After Bethany Hope had died, my life felt hopeless, lost, still! I laid in bed most days those first few weeks just watching as those around me seemed to just keep going as if life just seamlessly went on without her here. I had no desire to be a mother, wife, daughter, or anything anyone needed me to be. Exactly 4 weeks after Bethany had died, I was once again heading to the same hospital where she was born, probably the last place on earth I wanted to be.
A few days earlier I had been limping around the house in pain because the whole left side of my stomach was cramping and sore. My mother insisted something was wrong, but I would not listen. I felt as though I was in survival mode at this time. I was lucky to get out of bed from day to day, I was not about to go to the doctor. By that evening I had walked from the kitchen to my bedroom and collapsed on my bed in tears the pain was so bad. My entire leg was numb and my left foot was tingling. I was scared, and finally believed my mother’s intuition must be right and something was wrong.
The next morning my OB did an ultrasound on my stomach and said there was nothing there and I needed to head straight to the ER for a full checkup. I remember thinking the whole way there how stupid I was going to look when nothing was wrong with me. My husband called as I was sitting in the waiting room and asked if he should come. I told him I was sure I was fine. They got me into a room rather quickly for the ER; I guess having a numb leg was not such a good thing after all. One cat scan later, my husband Brad arrived just as the doctor walked in with two other nurses. He said, “We know what’s wrong, it’s very dangerous, and were admitting you. You have a very large blood clot from your belly all the way to your left knee."
He barely got the words out of his mouth before the nurse was injecting two shots of blood thinners into my stomach, which are very painful! Brad and I just looked at one another. We could not even believe this was happening. The doctor then went on to say that this was so serious and my blood clot was so large, if I had waited even a few more days it would have reached my lungs and killed me. The next morning I was being rolled into surgery and poked in about hundred places. I was feeling scared and numb as to where my life had taken such a wrong turn.
Theses surgeries became part of my life for 2 weeks between 2 different hospitals. The outcome: no change. After five different procedures my vein was damaged and there was permanent damage to the pulses in my left leg. I left the hospital with the doctors telling me my clot could not be removed no matter what they did. If they continued to go into the vein they would only do more damage. I went home feeling so confused.
Week after week I went to the hospital to be poked for blood test. My hair was falling out due to the high doses of blood thinners I was on. I felt like I was on a never ending rollercoaster ride only I was not having any fun.
Tired? Exhausted? Finished?
These are only some of the words that can begin to describe how I was feeling; only I learned something sitting in the hospital bed or waiting on nurses to draw my blood. I’m still here and I don’t have to do this alone. God has a purpose for me and is willing to lead me through this journey if I just let him. Yes, every day might be a challenge for a while, but every day is a new day and gift from my Savior. Giving up is not an option when Christ is there waiting to take our burdens away.