Note: This blog was important for me to write. It needed to be written so that I can move past this subject and onto bigger, better.
Every time I walk past a mirror I glance at my cheek to make sure my makeup has properly coated the faint green and blue that has risen on my right cheek.
A while back I downloaded a photo-editing app so that I could blur out the bruises from my memories. In every picture, besides smiling faces, were the colorful patches of bruises that plagued me, literally head to toe.
No, my husband doesn't hit me. And no, you don't need to 'see the other guy' because I most certainty did not get in a fight.
I don't have an iron deficiency,
I don't bump into things and 'bruise easily',
I'm not being abused, roughed up, or physically threatened,
and no, I'm not doing this to myself.
As a passionate self-proclaimed documenter of life, I've recently been at a major road block when it comes to my creative flow. I've written endlessly about my daily happenings, about motherhood, #wifelife, and more, but everything falls apart as I write. I can't find endings to what I feel are vapid rantings and I fear that the more shallow I write, the closer I tiptoe into clickbait article style writing.
I'm blocked, I can't speak, my favored medium of communication has been stolen from me and it's time I take it back.
I'm sick. I've been sick for a long time now, and after oncologists, hematologists, Cedar Sinai bills, and more vials of blood then I care to remember, I still have no answers.
There's so much more to my life then these bruises.
My daughter is over a year old now. She is terrifyingly smart and the prettiest little thing you've ever seen.
My husband is incredible. He encourages me endlessly and never gives up.
God has blessed us with an incredible new job for Andrew and apartment searches have begun.
I belong to a vibrant church, come Sunday I'll be making breakfast for the worship team (hope you like burritos).
I have pain, chronic and undiagnosed.
I had 3 seizures in 1 week, but thankfully got off the medication that was charged as guilty and no longer have to worry about them recurring.
In the mornings I let Charlotte flip chapters of the Bible in bed before we start our day,
From Suffering To Glory
Romans Chapter 8:18
For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.
I will live my life, I will raise my daughter, I will be my husband's partner in crime, and I will serve my God. (and document it all)
Every time I walk past a mirror I glance at my cheek to make sure my makeup has properly coated the faint green and blue that has risen on my right cheek.
A while back I downloaded a photo-editing app so that I could blur out the bruises from my memories. In every picture, besides smiling faces, were the colorful patches of bruises that plagued me, literally head to toe.
No, my husband doesn't hit me. And no, you don't need to 'see the other guy' because I most certainty did not get in a fight.
I don't have an iron deficiency,
I don't bump into things and 'bruise easily',
I'm not being abused, roughed up, or physically threatened,
and no, I'm not doing this to myself.
As a passionate self-proclaimed documenter of life, I've recently been at a major road block when it comes to my creative flow. I've written endlessly about my daily happenings, about motherhood, #wifelife, and more, but everything falls apart as I write. I can't find endings to what I feel are vapid rantings and I fear that the more shallow I write, the closer I tiptoe into clickbait article style writing.
I'm blocked, I can't speak, my favored medium of communication has been stolen from me and it's time I take it back.
I'm sick. I've been sick for a long time now, and after oncologists, hematologists, Cedar Sinai bills, and more vials of blood then I care to remember, I still have no answers.
There's so much more to my life then these bruises.
My daughter is over a year old now. She is terrifyingly smart and the prettiest little thing you've ever seen.
My husband is incredible. He encourages me endlessly and never gives up.
God has blessed us with an incredible new job for Andrew and apartment searches have begun.
I belong to a vibrant church, come Sunday I'll be making breakfast for the worship team (hope you like burritos).
I have pain, chronic and undiagnosed.
I had 3 seizures in 1 week, but thankfully got off the medication that was charged as guilty and no longer have to worry about them recurring.
In the mornings I let Charlotte flip chapters of the Bible in bed before we start our day,
From Suffering To Glory
Romans Chapter 8:18
For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.
I will live my life, I will raise my daughter, I will be my husband's partner in crime, and I will serve my God. (and document it all)
