Sunday, September 25, 2011

To Answer Your Question...

God doesn't make mistakes.  I have to keep reminding myself of that every minute of every hour of every day.  If I don't, I feel myself slipping backwards down a slippery slope that won't let down until I've hit rock bottom.

Our house is just about packed up, but I refuse to pack our bedroom, E Baby's room, and our living room.  Doing that would mean I accept the fact we are leaving.  I just can't.  Why would we have made such great friends and get so rooted into our community, just to up and leave?  It's not right.  We were given an amazing church family, that quite frankly, is "Second" to none.  I consider the couples in our Bible study class to be some of my best friends, and I have been so excited for Elliot to have so many great role models to look up to.  I'm writing this high (not literally, please don't call the cops) off of a great time with some people who, whether they know it or not, have made such an impact on my life.  The fact that all of these people came together for us tonight is beyond humbling, and words could never express the gratitude and love I have for each and every one of them.

Here are a few answers to questions I've gotten over the past few weeks:

1.) I've had a few people ask me if I suffer from anxiety/depression.  Truth is, yes...and no. In late high school and throughout college I did pretty badly.  Sometimes, I didn't know if I would ever make it out.  I was finally medicated my jr. year in college, but the only dosage strong enough to work would knock me out for a day and a half, and I started having nightmares as a side effect to one of them.  Even though I was still suffering, I took myself off the medicine.  It wasn't until about a year ago that I started dealing with some deep seeded issues and was able to get to the bottom of everything.  After a Bible study one Sunday when we went over this passage:

2 Corinthians 1:3-7  "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort.  He comforts us i all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any kind of affliction through the comfort we ourselves receive from God.  For as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so our comfort overflows through Christ.  If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation' if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which is experienced in the endurance of the same sufferings that we suffer.  And our hope for you is firm, because we know that as you share in the sufferings, so you will share in the comfort."

In a nutshell, we suffer so we can receive comfort from God, so we can give comfort to those who are suffering.  It was then that I was able to realize that I needed (and was able) to let go and forgive.  Once I was able to forgive, my anxieties literally dissolved.  I knew the gift I had been given, and I then planned to use it.  I don't mean to be mysterious, but I won't be talking about it until I can use it with everything I have.

2. My dad got a very concerning email.  To answer their question, no, my parents NEVER beat me.  Quite the opposite, actually.  They are the most loving parents anyone could want.  My brothers think they love me too much.  Seriously, how does one love their youngest child/only daughter too much?  Silly brothers!

3. A few sweet friends have tried to explain to me why I feel so connected to Houston and why I consider it home.  Yes, this is where Jarrod and I lived when we first got married, we built our first house here and this is where Elliot was born.  It goes so much deeper than that, though.  Here's a little Edwards family history!
My mom and dad grew up in the Dallas area and are Texans to the core.  Because of my dad's job, they moved from Dallas to Houston to New Orleans to Houston to Virginia (I was born there) to Lafayette to Opelousas (I think in that order). Because we weren't originally from Louisiana, we didn't have the Cajun culture, and because of all that, I never really felt like I belonged anywhere.  I wasn't Texan, because other than seeing my grandparents a few times a year, I had never been in Texas very much.  I wasn't Virginian (is that a word), because I moved from there when I was three.  I wasn't Louisianian because my family wasn't from there.  When people asked me where I was from, I would tell them, "America" because I didn't exactly know how to answer that questions.  Until now. Now, I was born in Virginia and raised in Louisiana, but I'm from Texas. Now, I know where I'm from, and I know where I belong. It's not because we built our house and home here or because this is where Elliot was born.  It's because this is where I was supposed to be all along.  {Mom, yes, as hard as I fought it, you raised a Texas sweetheart.  Please stop gloating! ;)}

4. I do suffer from Mitral Valve Prolapse , but it's really not that big of a deal.  Because one of my heart valves doesn't close all the way, blood leaks through and my heart has to catch up sometimes.  This usually happens in high pressure situations...or when I'm bogged down with anxiety.  What will happen is my heart will beat really quickly for a few minutes.  Sometimes it just feels like butterflies are flapping their wings really quickly in my chest, but other times it feels as if someone were pounding on my chest as hard as they can, and it literally takes my breath away and makes me feel dizzy/faint.

5. I don't suffer from postpartum depression.  My OB/Gyn told me that because of my background, I was at a higher risk of suffering from postpartum depression, and for the first couple weeks after Elliot was born I sat there terrified that at any second I would "catch" it.  Thankfully, I never did :)

This Friday morning, Jarrod and I will be getting in our cars and leaving our house for the last time.  We will be leaving our family who has become our best friends, the friends with the year round gay Christmas lights (sorry, I had to one last time!), the ones who made me realize how expensive a long last name can be, and a girl who told me her leg fell off, just so I could get out of a stressful situation (don't worry, her leg is fine and dandy!).

This Friday afternoon, Jarrod and I will be arriving at our new (town)house.  We will be closer to family who we will enjoy more than I can imagine, we will make new memories with old friends, we will make new friends, and I will craft...a lot.

After all is said and done, Jarrod, Elliot, and I (and maybe another kid or two) will be back in Houston.  I don't know when, or how, or where, but rest assured, we WILL be back.

I would also like to promise you that E Baby will NOT have a Cajun accent.  Ever.  Seriously.  Ever.

I'll leave you with one last it should be...


Thursday, September 1, 2011

Anywhere But There

My heart hurts.  Literally.  Not in the, "I'm really sad" sense (which I am), but I feel my MVP acting up and there is nothing I can do to stop it. My stomach has been in knots for days too.  So much so, that even the thought of food makes me want to vomit.  Since I'm still breastfeeding, I eat when I can and just pray that it all stays down.   Oh, and then there is the pounding headache and blurry vision I've had since Friday.  Not even my beloved Butalbital or Tiger Balm is helping.  I also can't seem to shake the nightmares I'm having of CPS taking Elliot away from me for being a bad mom.  I find myself walking in circles not knowing what to do, but not being able to be still. I don't know how these feelings could get any worse, but I know they can.  They always can, and I'll be waiting for them when they come knocking at my door.

Here's the scoop:

Last April, Jarrod interviewed for a higher position with his company.  They decided that instead of hiring him for that particular job, they would expand his territory to ALL of Texas except for the panhandle.  For a couple of days though, we were excited about the possibility of moving to Louisiana and being closer to my parents.  I never told him about the mixed feelings I had, and I'd probably be more upset about leaving home than excited about moving to Louisiana.  When he was given the promotion instead, to say that I was secretly relieved would be an understatement.

Fast forward several months. This past Thursday (a week ago, today) Jarrod's boss asked if he would be interested in moving to Louisiana.  Since I never told him that I never wanted to go, Jarrod told him that we would all LOVE to move back. Friday morning, he was told to be in Morgan City Monday morning.  Friday evening we were told that they would be taking us out to dinner on Sunday evening instead of a meeting on Monday.  So, at dinner, Jarrod was presented with an offer, and I immediately told him I didn't want to go.  The whole trip home, I cried, because I knew deep down Jarrod was going to say, "yes."  By Monday evening we decided to stay, move, and stay again.  By Tuesday the decision had been made.  We are moving.  But wait, it gets better.  Not only are we moving, but we ONLY have a month before Jarrod will be the Sales Manager at LAPCO over the whole company.  ONE MONTH to take in all of Houston that I can before we are shipped to an entirely different world.

Please, don't get me wrong.  I'm thrilled for Jarrod.  This is a huge opportunity for him that will open countless doors of even more opportunities in the future. I'm just a little sad for me, and terrified for Elliot. Houston is HOME.  It has been since Jarrod and I started dating.  It always will be.

Jarrod told me to give it a year.  If I was still miserable, we could come back.  While I don't want to have these feelings and be miserable for an entire year, my deepest desire is to be here.  Home.

So, for now, instead of browsing pinterest to get amazing ideas for our house, I will be staging it for strangers to walk in and see how amazing (or horrific) it is.  I know in my head that this is (probably) the best thing for us, but right now my heart is taking a little more convincing.

That is all the news I have for now.  I will try and update as we figure out a little more like where we'll live and when we'll actually be moving.