The Dangers of "Proving Pride"

When I get in the mood to clean, I clean.... and I mean everything. From the floors to the ceiling, everything is scrubbed and disinfected. Every couch cushion is shampooed and every surfaced windexed.

It was a little after 11:00 pm on a week day. James had to get to work early the next morning and I had a day full of errands to run and to-do's to get done. As I walked down the hall muttering my list of things to clean next James tiptoed out of the girls room after putting them to sleep and sweetly asked where the broom was so he could help me finish up the house. By this time, I was sweaty, tired, and my back was painfully numb - due to too many epidurals, oiy! I picked up the vacuum which was sitting at the top of the stairs and I began to work my way down our steep tile stairs. While leaning my sore back up against the railing trying to offset the weight of our cheap and heavy vacuum I let out a loud sigh with a tad bit of a grunt at the end.

My sweet husband put his hand on my shoulder and said softly but loud enough to reach over the roar of the vacuum, "Let me do this for you Brit. You get some sleep."

I looked up with pain in my eyes and replied, "No, I can do it. I did it while you were gone, I can do it now. I am fine." After I had said this, I noticed pain in his eyes as well. I could feel he had felt shut down and pushed away. As he walked off to bed I took a deep breath and realized the damage my pride may have just caused.

You see, I don't normally push people away due to anger, but out of pride. I am one who feels as though I need to prove my strength to others in order to feel as if I am worthy enough for a title. Whether that title be a mother, a wife, a cook, or a homemaker. I wasn't intentionally trying to hurt my husbands feelings or purposely trying to make him feel as if I don't need his help anymore. I realized what I had done and I felt horrible.

For the rest of the night I couldn't help but think of other times I had done exactly this. I have one memory of this same scenario that always comes back to haunt me.

When I was thirty-seven weeks pregnant with Eira, my lovely mother flew clear across the United States and over the Atlantic ocean in order to come help James and I prepare for our sweet baby's arrival and to also help take care of the older girls. I cannot explain exactly how excited I was to see her. It had been ten months since I had last seen my mother and I was craving a loving hug from her. We hadn't been reunited for longer than a few minutes before my "proving pride" I will call it, got in the way. As we were heading out to the airport parking garage my mother asked me to give her one of the babies so that I wouldn't have my hands so full. I immediately raised my eyebrow at her and said with a chuckle, "I am fine. I have done it all this time without you, I can do it now." At that moment, I didn't realize what damage I was causing when I spoke these words. Why I had said it was because I knew my mother was tired, sore, and hurting from her long flight and I didn't want to cause her any more pain by laying my over packed diaperbag and rowdy children on top of her as well as her own baggage. My mother, of course, insisted that I gave her some of the bags and one of the girls.

This happened many times in the two months she was visiting, both before and after I had the baby. I would often mutter these words when she offered her help no matter what I was doing. If I was sweeping, I said them. If I was loading and unloading the kids from the van, I said them. If I was carrying groceries up two flights of stairs at nine months pregnant, I said them. I wanted to prove to my mother that I was a great mother myself and that she taught me well. That is why I constantly repeated this sentence. Not to make her feel as if her long trip was for nothing, not to belittle her, and definitely not to hurt her.

After many weeks of not allowing my mother to help out much, she started to feel worthless. I remember a long talk we had sitting on the guest bed together.

We talked. We cried. We laughed. We cried some more.

It (for a lack of better words and a little goofiness added...) was glorious! This conversation was hands down one of the best talks I have ever shared with my mother. In that moment, I realized how deeply she does love me and that due to her deep and unconditional love, she flew thousands of miles to come be with me in my time of need. She wanted to help and she was willing to help, if only I would allow her to. Why I didn't realize this sooner, I have no idea.

But, even though she has forgiven me for my stubborn attitude and I have forgiven myself, it is hard for me to forget. I often think back to those couple months and wonder Why? Why didn't I realize the result of my actions sooner? Thinking back, I constantly feel guilty. I worry for the guilt I might carry if my mother was to someday soon pass and that was my last memory I have of her in my home.

Would I be proud of my last days spent with her? Did she leave this Earth knowing just how much I really do love and care for her and how much I am truly thankful to have her as my mother?

I know without a doubt that my mother would know that I loved her, but would she have truly known how much I cared for her? By my actions those few months, I am not sure she would have and that pains me thinking that someone I love so deeply could ever feel that way.

Having family be there for you - whether that be a new baby, deployments, in sickness, or in trialing times is such a blessing. I need to remind myself more often to not take what I have for granted. Whether it is my mother helping me unload the girls from the back of the van or my tired husband vacuuming the stairs for me so I can rest, I need to remember to let them help and make them feel needed and most importantly.... WANTED. I need to quit trying to prove to others I can do it all on my own, because well... let's be honest, we can't always do it all on our own. I look forward to getting pregnant again, having my mother fly over to visit me, and put her to work doing my dishes, laundry, cooking, and cleaning.

Did you hear that mom?! I have finally agreed to letting you do it ALL! *wink wink*

I am so grateful I have realized the dangers of my proving pride before I caused permanent damage and I am blessed beyond measure to have my amazing husband and sweet mother who both understand and forgive me for being prideful at times.

With that said, I am a very visual learner. So now, I am off to place sticky notes throughout my house with the words "Delete Proving Pride" to help remind me daily to step back and let those I love help me in times when I may need it.

"Dear Mommy, it's okay to have messes..."

Messes. We all have them. Whether it be the dishes pilled in the sink after a delicious family dinner, the mound of dirty laundry laying on our bathroom floors, or the handfuls of goldfish infesting our bed as we doze off to sleep forgetting we haven't swept the floor in the past four days. We'd be lying if we said we didn't have them and we'd be lying if we said they didn't bother us.

I will be the last one to say my house isn't messy and it doesn't bother me. As you can see by this picture, it is far from clean. I'll admit, I have been known to get upset when I walk out of the bathroom to find that my living room looks more like a tornado has ripped through my house in the two minutes it took me to pee than the fact that it took me over an hour to get it looking half way decent. My eyes widen, my blood starts to boil, my fists clench, and my lips pierce as if I am holding in some choice words. But then, the sweetest of voices whispers from underneath me, "Mommy, don't you like my tower?" I look down to see my innocent four year old holding a stack of Legos. I take a deep breath and look around the room to find my other two children playing in harmony on the rug. I smile with a sigh of relief. They are happy - happy in the chaos of the mess.

They continue their play as I sit on the couch and watch with the smile still plastered on my face. I giggle watching them tickle each other, fight with one another, and resume playing once again. This is a typical day in our household - the fighting, the playing, the smiling, AND the messes!

And now, let me tell you a little secret, especially if you are a brand new mother to a sweet little baby stressing over chores needing done - it's okay to have messes.

I repeat...

It is OKAY to have MESSES!

Life is messy and life is even messier when you have children. Plain and simple. But in all the dirt and crushed Cheerios living in my carpet, this right here is what I live for. I live for those messy snuggles in the middle of the night as I rock my teething baby back to sleep, kissing on my sweet girls in the middle of my disaster of a house, and wiping peanut butter smears off the TV knowing that my little ones bellies are full. Nothing sounds sweeter than digging for my amethyst earrings in our vacuum after my oldest tried to clean up her spilled milk, folding the same load of laundry three times in a day only to have my children rip it apart looking for their Elsa pajamas, or frantically searching for the missing car keys which happen to be hidden in the bottom of the Lego box. The mess will be there tomorrow just as it was today, but these babies will not be the same as they were yesterday. They will be a day older. A day bigger. A day closer to not wanting my snuggles.

So Mama, young or old, put down that broom and dustpan. There is no need to slave over having that Better Homes and Gardens house pictured in this months magazine when there is time to be spent with those kiddos. I know it's hard to let go of your perfectly, perfect house. I have been there. It took me a few years to really 'get used to the mess', but now that I am, I can honestly say I am so much happier. I am truly happy. And most importantly, my family is happy!

Today (and quite possibly tomorrow as well) I am going to put the cleaning behind me and sit to snuggle my girls a bit longer, kiss my husband a thousand more times, and soak in this moment. Tomorrow isn't promised, so spend every second you can as if it was your last.

~ Brittany

Your Protector, Your Mother

Do you remember running into your parents room after a scary nightmare?

Do you remember how safe you felt in their arms wrapped up in your little blanket?

Do you remember the sound of your Dad's strong heartbeat as you lay with your ear on his chest?

Do you remember how graceful your mother twirled your hair in her fingertips as you drifted off to sleep again?

I remember it and I miss it. I miss being an innocent child feeling safe and secure in the presence of my parents and oh, what I would do to be snuggled in their bed again! My parents always made me feel safe, no matter where we were. If we were home or if we were traveling, I knew that as long as I was with them I would be safe from any harm. I hope to be the kind of mother my mother was to me and I pray my husband will be the kind of father my father still is. They never told me I couldn't climb into her bed for comfort and they most certainly never turned me away. They always opened their arms and accepted me, even if it were the middle of the night.

For I remember my parents calming my fears and wiping my tears in the middle of the night, and I will do the same for my girls. Children won't be children forever, I will only get them for a short time - and because they are only mine for a short time, they can climb up in my bed at any hour of the night. I am their security, their protector, their mother.

~ Brittany

Deployment day, It is among us.

Today is the day I have been dreading for the past four months. Deployment. It's the day every military family runs from and certainly doesn't look forward to. For the past three years our little family has been so blessed to not deal with Daddy leaving... until today.

We spent our last night as a family enjoying a delicious homemade meal and having a family sleepover after cleaning up from Jaylee's birthday party. I wanted to spoil James with the best meal I could possibly make. He loves wings and shrimp, so that is just what I chose to make for him. I didn't have a recipe for wings, so I decided to wing it! (haha! get it? "winged" it... lmbo) While the chicken was baking I fried up some jumpo shrimp, his absolute fav. A side of cheesy rice to go with and voila, a perfect meal!

After we enjoyed our dinner, James bathed the girls while I cleaned up and fed the baby. Once the girls were washed and dressed, we put on a movie on for the kiddos so James could finish packing his duffel and I could finish making their daddy-dolls.

I had planned on finishing their daddy-dolls before dinner. That way, we could sit down as a family and snuggle while explaining to the girls that Daddy would be leaving for a little bit, but that didn't happen like planned. Since I kept making mistakes, the dolls took me a little longer to make than I had expected. By the time I was finished, both girls were out cold. They hadn't even finished their movie. Since they were asleep, I decided I would run up stairs and help James pack. I left the baby asleep on the couch so I could spend some time with my husband before the night was over. Of course, as soon as I got up to our room, the baby woke up. James went down stairs to comfort her and Jaylee who had woken from Eira's cries. While James was out of the room, I slipped some love notes buried in all of this clothing: I folded some into his garments, tucked some into his socks, placed a few in his ABU pockets, and a the last couple into his scriptures.

When I was finished, I walked back downstairs to find everyone sleeping in the livingroom. I knew James was tired since we had stayed up until early in the morning the night before. I decided to pick up the house a bit before going to bed. That way, it wasn't such a disaster in the morning and all potential stress could hopefully be eliminated. Before I could finish, the baby woke up again, this time also waking James. He told me it was time for me to go to bed, we had a busy day tomorrow, and he didn't want me exhausted. He handed me the baby and said with a tired smile, "let me make you a bed." It is these acts of selflessness that make me fall more and more in love with him everyday. Despite how tired he was and knowing how long he would be traveling in the morning completely exhausted, he still got up and began to make me a bed on the couch. He told me to sit down and he'd cover me with a blanket. I then began to cry realizing that this was without a doubt, my last night with him for a while. Reality sank in. I sat up and began to not just cry, but sob hysterically. James sat down next to me and embraced me in his arms as tight as he could, one hand around me and the other on my face as the baby nursed vigorously on my chest. I could hear him choke back some tears as he tried to clear his throat. He stroked my hair out of the stream of tears rushing down my face. We then began a conversation that I will never forget. It is too personal to write out for the world (friends really) to read, but I will say this, I am deeply in love with this man and his spiritual self. He truly is amazing.

Alright, enough with the sappy stuff...

After a good, hard cry we fell asleep. When I awoke just a few hours later, my head throbbed from the pressure of emotion that had built up. Before starting our day, I said a little prayer and asked the Lord to please bless this day to go by as slow as possible. I wanted every minute of this morning to be remembered happy, calm, and every bit peaceful. We then quickly got ready. Surprisingly, we were out the door two hours later, which in our household, is a complete miracle. James wanted to go out for a special lunch so I wouldn't have to spend our last few hours together cooking and cleaning up after three messy girls. Of course, he chose a burger and wing joint. I am not a fan of their wings, but I thought I could suck it up and enjoy a nice lunch with my family for this one time at this restaurant.

After we ate, we decided it was probably time to talk to the girls, especially Jaylee. She is almost four and I had been putting it off long enough- maybe even too long. Right outside of the restaurant was a few patches of trees, some green soft grass, and a beautiful flower garden. We stopped there and sat as a family. James and I began to explain to Jaylee what was going to take place later today. She is absolutely fascinated by airplanes and we knew that if we explained it with the thought of Daddy flying in an airplane she would hopefully be ecstatic. James began with asking her if she knew where he was going. She just looked at him and clicked her tongue. I'm not too sure why she was doing this, but probably just to be silly. He then explained that he was going to go fly to a new place for work on his 'special airplane' and that he would be back in a little bit. "I'll be home after Christmas, and in the mean time, you need to be good for Mommy.Okay? You also will get to go see your Grandmas and Grandpas, won't that be fun? I'll be home soon." Jay just nodded with a smile on her face as I thought to myself, Well, that was easier than I thought!

Since we hadn't given the girls their dolls yet, we thought now was the perfect time. As I pulled them out of the diaper bag the girls went crazy. They were so excited. We explained that they could now carry Daddy anywhere they go thanks to this cute little doll. The only thing that would have made it better would have been to attach a nipple for the baby. Other than that, they were the perfect gift! ;)

After our wonderful family time it was time to take James to the flight line. I don't think I could have driven any slower than I did that day. I joked around saying I was just going to kidnap him and head right out the gate. That way, he wouldn't have to leave us. We laughed and I drove even slower.

When we arrived at the flight line everyone hoped out as quickly as possible, all awed at the planes. I, on the other hand, slowly unbuckled my seat belt, hesitated to open the door, and slid like a snail out of my seat. This was it.

We walked onto the flight line and were greeted by a tall dark man. He quickly started throwing papers at James, talking to him, and explaining that he had only a few minutes to finish everything before leaving. This was our good-bye. A quick hug from Jay around his leg and a peck on the lips from me and he was gone, leaving the girls and I stranded on the flight line. I tried as hard as I could to hold in my tears until I could get to the car.

I walked as fast as my legs could take me, all while carrying a baby on my hip, pushing a stroller, holding Jay's hand, and carrying the diaper bag. If only I could say bye one more time, I prayed. As I began to load everyone into the van, I heard my phone start singing James' ringtone. I was so shocked to get a call from him. He asked for me to wait and he'd be right out, he had forgotten something. I smiled with from ear to ear. I was so over joyed! When he came out he immediately hugged me as tight as he could, gave me a kiss, and said with tears in his eyes, "I love you Brit. I'll be home soon. I am so sorry"

And then, I lost it....

"It's okay, it's okay. I love you too." I cried into his neck as I hugged him for the last time. I didn't let go. I couldn't let go. My arms tightened with every breath. As he pulled away I held onto his hand. His fingers slowly slipped away as he wiped the tears from his cheek. I watched him walk off onto the flight line as he turned for his final wave goodbye.

And now, this is it. The count down begins...

A mothers beauty in her daughters eyes.

Since today was extremely rainy and cloudy, the girls and I decided to go shopping, or at least attempt. 

While in the dressing room and trying to block out the noise from three very tired, hungry kiddos, I looked in the mirror saddened at the woman starring back at me. I had entered this dressing room three minutes prior full of self-esteem and hope in finding a cute blouse for a special upcoming date with my husband. My hair was soaking wet from the pouring rain, I didn't have time this morning to apply even the smallest amount of makeup on my puffy eyes, the maternity band on my pants had been stretched out to its fullest from my previous pregnancy causing my jeans to now sag, and my 20 lbs. of excess baby fat was not one bit appealing in the new and super adorable top.

"Why did it look so cute on the hanger and absolutely atrocious on me? " I mumbled under my breath.

After letting out a long and much needed sigh, I felt a sticky, little hand softly land on my cheek. I turned to find Jaylee standing on her tip-toes directly on top of the little metal bench placed beside me. Her eyes were level with mine and she said with a sparkle in her eye, "Oh, Mommy. Don't be sad. You look so beautiful. Daddy will be happy. I love your flower shirt and pants."

My eyes immediately filled with tears. But instead of tears of sadness and self worth streaming down my cheeks, they were tears of love and acceptance. My three year old had the eyes to see past my body image and straight into my heart. And what awes me the most, is she had the voice to speak out when she saw I was hurting so badly inside. She doesn't see a frumpy, tired mother who still after twenty-one years hasn't learned to love herself, but a loving and caring mommy who looks beautiful even with a few extra pounds of cushion and an awkward fitting blouse.

I don't know what I did to deserve such a caring, Christ-like daughter, but I am eternally grateful she is mine forever. If I could be half the little lady she is,

I think I'd be almost prefect.

Rainey's Scare with Febrile Seizures

As many of you know, Rainey was in the hospital this past week. Here is how it all went down...

On Wednesday morning around 4 a.m. James and I woke up to Rainey coughing mucus and crying hysterically in her crib. We were sure she had just caught what every other child at church last Sunday had. On top of the cold, we could tell she had a slight fever. As I went down stairs to grab the Tylenol and a fresh bottle, James brought her into our bed so we could snuggle her back sleep and get a few more hours of shut eye before he was off to work. We immediately gave her her proper dosage of Tylenol and within a few minutes she had her chunky little arms wrapped around her Daddy's neck and was snoring like a bear.

 About an hour later we woke up for a second time, except instead of coughing up mucus, she was now puking all over our clean bed sheets. We immediately took off her vomit covered pajamas, gave her a warm bath, and made our little "pukers bed" on the living room floor. As I lay there snuggling my sick little girl, I asked James to bring me the rectal thermometer. Though, I had given her Tylenol over an hour ago, her entire body was burning up and, by a mothers touch, felt extremely hot. Her temperature read 103.5. As we sat on the living room floor, James and I looked at each other. We both questioned if we should take her into the emergency room. After much thought, we decided to wait a few more hours to see if her temperature would go down. At this point, we were sure the Tylenol was just taking a few extra minutes to kick into effect. James hurried and got ready for work. He kissed us both good-bye and was out the door and on his way to base. I turned up the heater as Rainey and I transitioned into the recliner, snuggled with blankets, and continued to rock her to sleep. We weren't asleep for more than an hour when Rainey woke up for the third time. She was fussing a tad but looked at me as if she was confused at who I was.

"Rainey, what's wrong sweet girl?"

She looked at me, raised an eyebrow, and then started convulsing. Scared to death I held her tight. After a few seconds I remembered what my friend explained a few months back. Her little boy suffered from febrile seizures, which is a seizure brought on by a high fever. I immediately put her on the ground. I cannot recall setting her down softly, or if I must have tossed her. I was shaking. Unsure what to do. She was now pale and her face was starting to turn blue, especially around her little lips. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, looking as if she was possessed. I prayed. I cried. Though, no one could hear me, I screamed for help hoping that someone would hear my call through the cement walls. I ran to the phone. As I dialed 911 I realized, I am in Germany! 911 doesn't exist. I didn't know what emergency number to call. I dialed my friend Melissa, who lives a few blocks down. She answered the phone with a tired, "Hello?"

"Melissa, she's not breathing! She is blue. Help me. Please! My baby, oh, my baby!"

.

She responded with a now wide awake, "What? Who? Calm down. What happened?"

I explained that Rainey had seizured and now her entire face was blue. She wasn't moving and she was unresponsive. I told her I was alone and didn't know how to call the ambulance. Melissa then reassured me that she was on her way. Her husband was calling the ambulance and I needed to stay calm.

I immediately called James at work. One of his co-workers answered the phone and before he could finish his introduction I tried my best to stay calm, but instead I screamed, "This is Brittany Joseph. I need to talk to Joseph now! It's an emergency!" James got on the phone and I then explained for a second time what had happened. Then with a choked up voice, he said he was on his way to the house. As soon as I hung up the phone Melissa arrived at the house and she was out of breath. She ran all the way up the hill in a hurry. It took around 15 minutes for the ambulance to finally arrive at our house. Even though she was still blue, Rainey was now breathing, barely. She was extremely tired and couldn't stay awake. Melissa and I tried everything from shaking to pinching to ensure she kept her tired eyes open.

The EMT's walked in and began to ask what had happened, though, not one person spoke English. I was very upset seeing as no one did anything besides sit around the living room and stare at my daughter who was fighting to breath. Finally, James arrived at the house and Rainey was loaded into the ambulance and we were on our way to the hospital.

We arrived at the hospital a little after 8 a.m. The emergency room doctor and nurse were very nice, though, I wasn't too fond of their practices. The doctor explained that she wanted to take some blood samples to find out whether or not this fever and seizure was caused by something viral or bacterial. That way, they would know how to treat it. As I held Rainey's hand and stroked her soft blonde hair, the doctor began drawing blood. 

*Now, when I say I wasn't too "fond" of their practices, here is why. Feel free to skip if you don't want to hear a rant.*

We all know how blood is drawn in the states. Washing hands and wearing gloves are a must when drawing blood. You don't want to infect the patient with anything that may be on your hands, nor do you want the patient to contaminate you. The nurse usually uses a butterfly needle, which especially on babies, isn't as painful. It is also a closed system, meaning, the blood doesn't touch air and therefore can't get contaminated or clot inside the needle as easily. Rainey's doctor did not wash her hands or wear gloves. She chose the biggest need I have ever seen. In fact, it was larger than the needle used to drain James' cyst. She held in her unwashed and ungloved hands three open vials. I watched for over ten minutes as Rainey's blood dripped slowly from the needle into the open container, half of which, spilled on the bedding and the doctors shaking hands. Once the vials were filled, she passed the three vials uncapped to the second nurse who was standing patiently behind her. The nurse took the tray, turned around, bumped into the counter, and spilled ever last drop of blood out of the vials. And with no choice, we had to do the whole long process over again. This is a small matter compared to what all went on in the hospital while Rainey was in their care. Drawing blood was not the only thing that irritated James and I about this hospital. Much of it I do not want to discuss, but I can reassure you, we will never be going back to this health care facility!

*End Rant*

Finally after an hour of poking, crying, and many tests on our sweet Rainey, we were sent upstairs to be admitted into the children's ward. There we met our roommate. She was the cutest blue eyed, blonde haired two year old I have ever seen. Her name was Kira and she immediately greeted us with a smile. Her and her mother were German and didn't speak much English. Poor Kira was going through the same thing as our daughter, except she had already had four seizures during her stay. Rainey and Kira became good friends and laughed the days away from inside their beds in our small hospital room.

We were also visited by the hospital clown. It was so neat to see the children's faces light up when he walked into the room. He made them both giggle hysterically. Even though we couldn't understand what he was saying due to the language barrier, it was still a blast and I don't think Rainey minded one bit! He made us all animal balloons and taught us how to spin plates on a stick, but I doubt I will ever remember how to do so.

James stayed the night with Rainey her third night in the hospital. He insisted that I went home to spend some one on one time with Jay and get some decent sleep. I was very unsure about it at first. Not because I didn't trust him with our child, but because if anything happened to our baby, "I" am not there to help. I couldn't stand the thought of leaving her in the hospital and me not being there to snuggle her. He assured me that everything would be okay and he would keep a good eye on her. He promised to call every few hours with updates as to how she is doing. I agreed, and Jay and I left for the house. I cried my eyes out the entire night thinking of the past few days and how heart breaking it was to watch our child go through such a scary experience. Every few hours that James called, Rainey was awake and giggling. He said they had played peed-a-boo the entire night until she fell asleep around 4 a.m. I am so grateful to have the husband I do. His little girls are so blessed to have him as their father and couldn't have picked a more loving and caring Daddy.

After many days of testing, we were finally told what was wrong with Rainey. Her fever was finally under control which was good news, but her cold had turned to bronchitis and they were wanting to keep her a few more days to insure it didn't turn into pneumonia. She also had a large amount of bad bacteria in her stool which was causing horrible diarrhea and dehydration. Because of her diarrhea we were switched to the "infectious" ward and had to be isolated from all the other children in the hospital, including Kira. They also caught a heart murmur, which is common in some children, but wanted to do more testing to see how severe it may be. We agreed to an ultrasound on her aortic valve, which found that she may only have two leaflets instead of the normal three. We weren't told much about it due to the doctor not being able to speak much English, so we are going to have to re-scan with our current pediatrician and get results from an American hospital.

After five long days in the hospital we were finally released to go home! Rainey was so excited to get her IV taken out of her hand and could not stop waving at everyone who walked by. The first few minutes we were home, she crawled straight into the bathroom, pulled herself up onto the tub, and screamed with excitement. She was so exited to finally be able to take a bubble bath with her big sister Jaylee and then afterwards, sit by the warm fire to dry off. It is so nice to be home as a family again!

My testimony has grown so much throughout this experience. This past week has shown me that the Lord is always there and will always be there to call upon. James and I were so stressed and unsure as to what was going to happen. But once he placed his hands upon her head and gave her a blessing, we felt peace and I knew in my heart that everything was going to be okay. I just had to have faith and the Lord would do the rest.

I want to thank all of our amazing family and friends who have prayed for Rainey's speedy recovery and an extra shout out to those who brought us dinners and visited in the hospital. Because of you guys, I kept my sanity. It was so refreshing to come home from a long stay in the hospital and not have to worry about cleaning the house or making dinner. Instead, we were able to sit down as a family and snuggle while enjoying each others company!

- Brittany