Honestly, and a Secret.

Honestly, I don't feel up to making it through today.  Maybe because I have felt like having a mental break down since last night and tried to sleep it off.  I want to go sit in the shower and cry for the day, but really that wouldn't change anything or help me at all.  So instead I'm going to write it all down and try to word vomit out the stress, anxiety, and sadness.

My mom had a another heart attack.  Technically, the stent failed.  Regardless, heart damage is heart damage and it blows.  So after our unproductive week in rehab, we ended up in another angiogram where they were unable to remove the blockage and unable to do much more at this time.

Due to this heart attack she is also in a more severe state of heart failure, so the plan is to try and manage her heart failure with different and stronger medications to try and figure out what the plan will be in the future.

Being back in the hospital instead of rehab feels like we were just kicked in the chest.  Wrong direction, friends.  Granted, it was obviously what needed to happen and where she needed to be, but it feels so defeating.  I was getting ready for my mom to come home and now we don't know when that will be.

Her future ranges from being able to
A: Live in congestive heart failure
B: Having another angioplasty down the line where they try to remove the clot from a different direction
C: Having another open heart where they remove all the scar tissue from heart attack numero uno, and at the same time graft the R coronary artery which is currently closed
D: Possibly a ventricular assist device to hold her over until a heart transplant
E: Going home to heaven.

That last one holds a sting.  I know I proclaim my beliefs of quality over quantity, and I stand fully behind them, and I stand fully behind my mom's decisions about her care.  I am ready for my mom to no longer suffer.  I am not ready to lose my mom.  Who is?  It might be this month, five years, or twenty.  We have not been given a time frame, just the plan to wait and see.

This plan pushes me to my limits.

Welcome to limbo land.  This is where we shall continue to sit.  Maybe we will make it to rehab, maybe not.  Maybe we will make it home, maybe not. Maybe my mom will meet my babe, maybe not.

I hate limbo land.

There are so many things that I don't know right now, but there are a couple things that I do know.  My mom has a 54th birthday on August 17th.  Since having a massive party is a little bit out of the question, I figured we could rock her socks, or sock in another way.

Birthdays have never been a huge deal in my family, but when you realize you might not get as many more as you were once expecting, I have a new found desire to make this the most amazing day of my mom's life.  Whether she has many more years to live, or we won't make it through this one, I want her to know the impact she has made through her life, her kids, her family, her love, and her God.  I want her to know how God used her in this world.  I want her to know if she made an impact in your life.  I want to see the impact of community and living this thing we call life, together.

If you didn't know my mom but have heard of our story, I would like her to have some idea of how incredibly covered in prayer and love our whole family has been.  I don't think she has any clue of the magnitude. I want her to know her impact; how much she matters. I don't think she realizes how many other people have been willing to pray for miracles on our behalf when we feel at the end of our rope.

My mother and my family are far from perfect, but we have been given the gift of a second chance, at least in this moment.  And I don't want to waste it.  I don't want to stop praying for the miraculous story of love and healing, but at the same time, I don't want to live in denial about the severity of our current situation.  I can write a beautiful eulogy for my mother, but I am blessed with the chance to tell it all to her face.  I have the opportunity to say every last thought and prayer that I have ever held back.  My mom will not die without knowing my heart, and I knowing hers.

I need your help.

My family has a slightly twisted sense of humor and I would like to name this little project: "Rock Nancy's Sock Off."  You know, since she can only wear one right now.  Maybe that is a little too twisted for you, in which case, you can call it "Operation Birthday".  Either way, I would like it to be a SECRET.  I would like to make two books for my mom.

For the first book I would like to include letters from everyone willing to write them about how she has impacted your life or what she means to you.  Go ahead, make her cry.

For the other book, I would like to be a photo album where I can include pictures of everyone near and far that has been praying for her.  In the picture can you make a small sign saying "Praying for Nancy, from ______", and then fill in your location.  It can be a picture of you, your church, something pretty. Whatever floats your boat.

And then finally, on her birthday I would like for her close family and friends to come read their letters to her.  We will do the ugly cry together and she will kill us for certain, but I don't care.  I refuse to give up this opportunity because of how much it will hurt to sit in that much love.   As awesome as that moment will be, I also know there is a cap to how much and how long she will be able to sit through it.  If you are interested in option three please contact me and I will do my best to piece together as many people as can share in an hour on her birthday.  Please don't be upset if I am not able to have everyone come.  The hospital room is only so big and her very damaged heart can only handle so many minutes of the ugly cry.  

So with all that being said, I look forward to seeing the power of community.  I look forward to sobbing my face off, some more.  I look forward to my mom being able to die now, or years from now knowing that her life mattered.  I look forward to the miraculous story of healing and hope, or the peace that will eventually come for my mom.

If you are able to write a letter or take a picture please send it to :  prayingfornancy[at]gmail[dot]com
To be able to make it into the book I need to have everything by noon on August 15th.

If you are able to share this story, please do.  Please  keep it off of Facebook, if you are friends with her, as she sometimes checks in on there when she is feeling OK.

Thank you.  Thank you for reading my lengthy word vomit.  Thank you for drying my tears.  Thank you for loving my family and my mom.  Thank you for your prayers.  Thank you for the big prayers that sometimes felt impossible for us to pray.  Thank you.

If you need to know the beginning of this story, you can start here: Nancy's Story
It has been quite the ride, but I have never felt more covered in love in my life.  Regardless of the outcome, I hope our story matters.  I hope we can walk this road with grace and peace.

I hope that love wins.

** Here are some picture examples.  Thank you to those who have already sent some.  Feeling very blessed**