Surveying the land. . .

Before we made our trip to Nashville to survey the land to see if we could even see ourselves there, I fasted breakfast and lunch.  My prayer was that God would open doors wherever we were supposed to be--Waco, Fort Worth, Northwest Arkansas, or Nashville.  I was praying specifically for clear guidance and direction over our weekend there as we drove around Brentwood and Franklin and met with various people.  Scott fell in love with the rolling hills, trees and winding creeks and truly was impressed by the clinics we saw and the people we met.  The medical community is something special there, and he longed to be a part of a community like that.  Sometime in October we heard that the clinic we had informally met with had chosen to hire a resident, so we still weren't sure where we were to be.  I still was pondering Rick Warren's talk, and kept thinking about "what God has you lay down (my love and desire for Waco) He only has something better for you to pick up."  Sometimes I wondered if Waco was like my "Egypt."  When God had led the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt and opened the Red Sea for them to escape and wander in the wilderness, He provided food and water and clothes for them that never ran out.  But, they started complaining about what they missed in Egypt--how soon they forgot how miserable they were as slaves.  Of course, we are not miserable in Waco, but the job is taking its toll on our family, and I kept thinking of things I did not want to leave behind.  I didn't want to be holding onto the dreams for my life in Waco that I thought were permanent (Baylor events/sports, our house, where we live, our church) only to miss something better.  On October 31, I wrote "Lord, you know where you want us to live, where you want us to go to church, where you want the girls to go to school.  Lord, help us as we get from now until we are going wherever we are going.  There is a group on the north side of Nashville that is interested in him--it seems like a good opportunity.  We just pray that you will make it a smooth transition if that is where you want him."
A private practice on the north side of Nashville saw Scott's CV and called him.  He talked with them a couple of times and was pretty impressed with what they were doing.  It was a little foreign to us, because we had only looked at the south side of Nashville (Brentwood/Franklin). I started googling the area to see what it might be like.  I looked up houses and saw one that was decorated almost exactly like our house and seemed affordable compared to houses on the south side.  I told Scott if he decided he wanted to interview with them I would be willing to consider it.  With the demands of his call schedule, he told them it would be sometime in January when we could make it out there.  Or if they flew him out there, he could come the next weekend (out on Sat. morning, and fly back Sun night, because he had patients scheduled Fri and Mon).  All this time we had to keep this all secret, because we didn't want to cause panic with his patients that we might be leaving (especially when we weren't certain what was in store).  Since he was under a contract with the hospital, we felt it would be unwise to let anyone know our thoughts until he actually had a signed contract--whether we were staying in Waco or not.
This clinic agreed to fly us out the next week.  The Wednesday before we left, Scott got called into another meeting that was not positive.  I was so thankful for God's mercy for providing the interview that following weekend.  It gave us hope that he did not have to stay in this situation in which it was becoming clear his call demands were not going to change.  I believed Scott hearing the song about mercy might just be foretelling God's character in this situation.  Scott was able to sit through the 2 hour meeting graciously, because he know of an opportunity ahead. Thank you, Lord!  Stick with me on some of this background--God gives us an amazing sign during the interview that I can't wait to share!

Second Sign

On August 11, I found the sermon notes from Nehemiah remembering that he surveyed the land, prayed and fasted before acting on rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem.  This was a big task, because he needed favor from the king for time away as well as help with building materials.  Finding these notes reminded me that after we had heard this sermon, we both had fasted from something, and then I had seen the street sign "Brentwood."  That night my reading in my One Year Bible was Nehemiah.  I knew if I wanted to hear the next thing God wanted to say (or get closer to God), I needed to give up Coke this week.  (Some of you may feel like this is a small sacrifice, but I like a fountain Coke better than food sometimes :)
The next day was Sunday, so my heart was expectant for anything--would something in a song or verse speak to us?  A lady next to me turned to me and said "God has something to say to you this week--pay attention when you're reading scriptures or what other people tell you--God has something to say."  I was speechless.  This is the first time this has ever happened to me.  She had no idea of the decision we had made the night before to do a partial fast in order to hear from God again.  I said "I believe it!"  In my journal on August 12 I wrote, "I don't know what He's going to speak about--where we'll live, the job, the twins, etc. but I am ready, and I am so encouraged!"
Following that Sunday, every meeting Scott had was completely negative.  Not only did it seem there was no hope of the decision being reversed, the attitude toward his clinic was very negative, and his time on call was busier than ever, including having to spend the night at the hospital.  He was worn out.  Was God showing us that the administration was not supportive of the clinic and it was time to move on?  Since we had checked out Northwest Arkansas while we were visiting family to see if we could see ourselves living there, my thought was we should check out the Nashville area to see if it was even possible that we would want to live there before even pursuing a job opportunity.  I knew Scott did not have the time to be looking for a job.  Yes, my brother lives there, but I was not really familiar with the Brentwood/Franklin area.  We didn't get a clear cut sign that week, just a series of events that were so frustrating it was obvious that his job was not going to improve here.  It was heartbreaking.  His clinic was going so well, and they were all on board to make it a great clinic, but their hands were tied in certain areas, and the call demands were hurting our family.  I also had a dream that a baby was delivered too young at the hospital (there is no NICU there) and the baby ended up dying and a particular hospital administrator tried to blame Scott for it.  (Even though it would have been the OBs fault for choosing to deliver when there is a hospital just minutes away with a NICU).  Once the baby is out, the responsibility is on the pediatrician.  I was amused by this dream, because this administrator rarely talks to Scott, and I was surprised that it wasn't about someone else more involved with his clinic.  When I awoke, I definitely felt a clear warning from the dream that Scott should be careful--in the dream this administrator was deceptive and making Scott take the blame for many problems.  I also felt a little nervous, because the reality of this scenario was all too plausible.
I believed it was okay to go look at the Nashville area just for the sake of surveying the area.  I longed to just see if we could even see ourselves there before pursuing a job.  Scott felt reluctant to go unless he had some interviews or contacts.  But by the end of this exhausting week, he was asking me to buy plane tickets.  Within 1-2 weeks, Scott had networked with several pediatricians there and was just astounded at the collegiality of all of the practices working together.  Most of the clinics are private practices, and even though they compete against each other for business, they work together for the good of children in the community.  By the time we reached Franklin/Brentwood, he had 2 informal interviews lined up.  We were amazed at how quickly things had come together, especially not realizing that most of the time they hire residents coming out of Vanderbilt, and they make their decisions by November.  We were there at the right time but couldn't have planned it that way without God's help. 
Scott never dreams.  One night he had asked God to give him a dream or a vision.  He awoke at 1:00am and 2:00am, and heard the chorus from the Rhett Walker Band (although he didn't know that at the time).  "In one moment everything changed.  Who I was got washed away, when mercy found me."  One of his informal interviews was with a clinic named, Mercy, so we began to wonder again, was this literally telling him the name of the clinic or was God promising, that in one moment He would make all things new and provide a job where Scott could use his gifts as a doctor and with administration?
It just so happened that the women's ministry was starting the study Nehemiah by Kelly Minter.  I knew I had to be a part of that study since Nehemiah was such a theme in my life during this time.  My first week or two there I was feeling so sad, because this was comfortable.  Just the thought of starting over in a new church with new Bible study groups made me not want to leave.  On top of that, the husband of the clinic's receptionist was telling me how much she loved working with Scott, and it just killed me on the inside, because all of these people and friends had no idea of the turmoil we were in.  I wrote in my journal on September 15, "Honestly, I still don't want to leave, but I don't know what choice we have.  If God wants us to stay, I think that will become really clear.  I suppose after this trip we will know if God is calling us there to Brentwood/Franklin."  The night before, we heard Rick Warren speak, and he said so many thought provoking things.  I had felt like an emotional mess, because I was crying just imagining all of the people we would say good-bye to or friends we would feel we were letting down (since they were patients of Scott's).  After hearing Rick Warren's talk, I felt so much more at peace.  The past couple of years, the theme of the Israelites wandering in the desert has been so prevalent in our lives.  Rick used Moses and his time in the wilderness to illustrate many of his points, and it just hit home and gave me peace.  One main point was that when God asked Moses to throw down his staff--which was his identity, his finances and job--it became alive, a snake.  And when God told him to pick it back up, it became a stick again.  This spoke powerfully to Scott and me about throwing out his identity/job/finances to God, and seeing God make it alive.  As soon as Moses/we pick it back up in our own hands, it becomes a lifeless stick again.  Then later, that staff was the Rod of God in which all of the miracles were performed.  Moses obeyed God, surrendered his identity/finances to God, and God did amazing things with that staff.  Rick Warren challenged everyone with giving God your resources and influence to use however God would have you to.  I felt peaceful and uplifted about whatever God had in store for us as long as we were willing to surrender to His plans and give Him our ambitions.

The First Sign

Folks, sorry it has been so long!  We have bought and sold a house since I last wrote, so it has been busy here!  As I mentioned in the last post, God made it pretty clear we were supposed to ask for a sign.  We prayed and asked Him to give us a sign and that we would be open to seeing it.  We did not know when or how it would come--would it literally be written words or would it be something else?--we didn't know what we were looking for, but we had peace that God would show us a sign when He was ready.  In July my heart wanted it to work so badly here in Waco.  I didn't want to leave Baylor, our church, our friends, or the girls' friends and preschool.  I didn't want to give up the dream of our kids going to elementary school with our friends' kids.  All I knew was that I was willing to move if it meant Scott would be home more and when he was home, he'd have the chance to be involved.  I also knew that Northwest Arkansas had been piquing my curiosity, because I had been following a couple blog friends up there, and I longed to live somewhere with the four seasons like we had in Germany.  It made me so homesick for our life there--the seasons and being able to walk to restaurants, etc.  Somehow I had stumbled on a blog of a family moving from Houston, TX to Franklin, TN.  As I read her story (you can begin it here) I thought, I need to talk to her.  Her husband is a physician as well, and I wanted to hear how they knew God was leading them to go when his practice was going so well.  And once they made that decision to go, how were they able to detach from patients who love him so much?  At Scott's medical school reunion the previous summer, we had met up with 2 friends who had relocated to Franklin, and they had begged us to come out there and check it out.  We kind of put it on the back burner, but then when I started reading about the rolling hills, the 4 seasons, and the historic downtown, I started to wonder if this might be the place for us.  I googled pediatric clinics in Franklin, and Brentwood Children's Clinic appeared first.  I started reading about the physicians and started thinking--Scott would love being in a partnership like this.  Don't get me wrong, he loves his current colleagues, but they are not in control of their clinic; they work ultimately for the hospital.  We also knew people in Northwest Arkansas that have a great private practice there, and with his sister and some close friends just moving there, we were wondering if that was where we were to go.  As I said, at the same time, my heart longed for things to work out in Waco, but we weren't seeing a solution. 
Somewhere later in July, we heard a sermon on Nehemiah and how he fasted and prayed and surveyed the land before he did anything to start rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem.  I decided to give up Coke that week (I love a fountain Coke, and most afternoons I enjoy a Coke at home :) ) One particular day I was very emotionally overwhelmed--things were so hard, and I knew if we were supposed to stay, I would jump in and continuously pray for a miracle for his job demands to change, the hospital's decision to change or some other opportunity that we didn't know about yet.  If we were to go, I wanted to be able to mentally prepare and then let God begin to show us where.  I knew that would be just as big of a miracle--the timing would have to be just right for a clinic to need another pediatrician and for them to choose Scott.  A lot of really good clinics don't use a recruiter, so it's often difficult to find out about positions available.  I knew if we were to go, God would drop an opportunity in our laps like He had done so many other times when I needed a job.
One day I was driving the girls to preschool and just in tears crying out to God--"God please show us.  Are we to stay in Waco or are we to go?"  It was getting overwhelming to plug our lives in here not knowing if it was to work out for us to stay, and it was hard to live a double life.  I looked up, and the street sign said "Brentwood."  I couldn't believe my eyes, and I kind of laughed it off thinking "really God? you're going to show me a literal street sign?"  then the next street said "Brentwood" as if God was proving His point to me.  Apparently the street curves around so the street sign is "Brentwood" 2 streets in a row.  I promise you I have driven by these signs for a year and never noticed them.  When I picked up the girls later that day, I looked for the signs, and they were not easy to see.  I called Nicole and told her about my experience with asking for a sign, literally seeing a sign, and that I would catalogue this away as the first sign.  I didn't know if this meant we were to live in Brentwood (a suburb of Nashville in between Nashville and Franklin) or if Scott would in fact get a job at the Brentwood Children's Clinic or if it just meant "not Waco."  But it seemed to be my first clue that we were not staying.

the Brentwood sign on the left under the tree

Background of our Moving Story

Back in June, we were on our way to Northwest Arkansas for a family reunion.  We received a phone call that began to be the turning point of our lives.  Scott had been working many hours doing his clinic job and fulfilling his extra inpatient hospital duties unique to this job.  Not only was he away from home a lot on weekdays and weekends, but the call phone was ringing all throughout the evening and night, especially during times when I needed help with the girls--dinnertime, or putting them to bed.  We had hopes this would change as a partnership with a well-known childrens hospital was in the works.  This would be great for our family as well as the nurses, restaurants, gas stations, etc. in Waco, because it would make this hospital potentially the premiere pediatric center between DFW and Austin.   The phone call informed us that the partnership had been turned down, and they were basically believing a different children's hospital would come through.  This partnership would potentially happen, but the first offer was ready to go, and for various reasons we could not wait years for the second hospital to develop and implement their plan, especially since there was no guarantee about what they would do.

This was the first clue that we could not stay in this job forever.  After hopes of trying to get help with the call demands or inpatient demands were denied, the heartbreak started to set it.  Their clinic is awesome, but we felt they weren't getting the respect or consideration even to the level of the other clinics.  Our hands were tied with what was the perception of the clinic and work hours, and the reality that they were working a clinic job and an inpatient job.  Let's just say, you can manipulate data and downplay "oh it's only 7 calls" to justify not solving the problem.  It was difficult to be told to see more patients to cover new rent, and then in the next conversation be told to block off schedules (meaning don't schedule patients during those times) to deal with having to go back and forth to the hospital after deliveries that needed to be transferred.

Now what?  I was in a lot of turmoil, because I didn't want to move, but we could not figure out any other way to make things work.  I was constantly feeling uneasy, because it was hard to grasp if we were here long-term or if we were to go.  I told Scott, "I almost want to ask God for a sign so that we at least would know whether we were staying or going."  If we are staying, we know to try to make it work at all costs.  If we are to go, we can begin that process of changing our plans to be here forever and then figure out where we were to go.  I felt a bit selfish to ask God for a sign if He wasn't ready to reveal that to us just so I could relax my mind from all of the muddled thoughts in my head about it all.  But then how else do I know what to do?  We talked it over, and Scott wondered if asking God for a sign was like putting Him to the test.  I literally opened the Bible to see if we would get any direction, and the page it fell open to was in Isaiah.  Isaiah 7:10-14 "Again the Lord spoke to Ahaz, ask the Lord your God for a sign, whether in the deepest depths or in the highest heights.  But Ahaz said, 'I will not ask; I will not put the Lord to the test.' Then Isaiah said, 'Hear now, you house of David!  Is it not enough to try the patience of men?  Will you try the patience of my God also?  Therefore the Lord himself will give you a sign"  We both looked at each other in shock and said, "it's pretty clear we are supposed to ask for a sign, and it would almost be like we were disobeying to not ask."  So we prayed and asked God to show us a sign and that we would be open to seeing it.  This is the part of the story where it is just starting to get exciting.  I can't wait to tell you more, so stick with me now that the boring details are out of the way!

Ramadi, Iraq 2006-2007

I promised pictures, but I just can't do it.  These pictures are not for the fainthearted.  I cry my eyes out every time I see them.  We have some of these pictures on our computer, because Lucian Read was gracious enough to go out there and document what Scott and our heroes were going through.  I haven't posted like I said, because I just could not choose what to post.  Lucian has a slideshow on his website of the pictures.  I thought it would be best if you made the decision whether or not you wanted to see them.  Once you have made that decision, you can go straight to his link to view them, because you can stop the slideshow if it gets to be too much.  Plus, anyone getting on my blog will not see the pictures immediately.  This is the reality of war, folks.  If you hover your mouse on the right or left side of the pictures, the red arrows will appear and you can go faster or slower.  The descriptions of what is happening is at the top of the pictures as well.  Our soldiers would immediately line up to donate blood when their comrades were hurt.  Sometimes the men and women cared for our insurgents--a lot of countries would not do this.

Please view these pictures only if you are prepared to give respect to these men and women.  Please do not view out of sensationalism; I beg you.  These show the horrors of war as they are; be prepared for legs amputated and some gory images.  I wanted you to have to work for it, so I'm not displaying the direct link.
http://lucianread.photoshelter.com/gallery-list?_bqO=20&_bqH=eJwzsfQOTyxxKjE3THY3iUrNCHYN9inKiSiONDexMjWyMjKwsgqN93SxDTUAAh9nr_Iqn_yyID9fAODdENg-&pagVar=collections_galleries_list
click on the "Iraq: Ramadi Surgical Final" button on the lower lefthand of the page.  Then click "view slideshow" so you will be able to see all 54 images.  Or you can leave the images small as to not enlarge the detail and hover your mouse over the thumbnail to get the description.

We live in the Land of the Free, and the Home of the Brave; be thankful.

February 13, 2007 Return from Ramadi, Iraq

I digress from our Wilderness to Promised Land journey a little bit today, because today is a special day of remembrance for us as a couple.  I do apologize that some of the previous information is a little confusing, but I don't feel at liberty to give all of the details.  After this part comes the exciting part--the part where I share how God has been leading us.
Six years ago today, Scott returned from 13 months in Iraq.  Sometimes it's too hard to think about, because if I sit here and think about how I did not lay eyes on him for 8 whole months before he came back for 2 weeks of R&R (Rest and Relaxation) to go back for 5 more months of separation, it makes me want to cry.  To me, that's the most absurd thing I've ever heard of--that a married couple would be apart for that long.  And then some of them don't even return home, which is a whole other level of sadness for another post.
I wanted to publicly share some of the photos that Lucian Read and Yuri (TIME), professional photographers took while embedded with them.  They were the only photographers willing to come out there, and we are so appreciative.  Most of what you see in the news is from the Green Zone in Bagdhad, which is well deserved, too, but Michael Fumento www.fumento.com was the only reporter who was willing to come to Ramadi and report on how dangerous it really was.  I treasure the words Michael wrote, and the pictures from Lucian and Yuri, because Scott knew what he was doing every day, and he could envision my life, but I had no way to picture what his daily life was like.  Some weeks we talked 20 minutes and didn't talk again for 10 days.  Some weeks it was 20 minutes every 3-4 days (you were allowed 20 minutes, because the lines were so long).  At one point when we thought he was going on a dangerous mission, I made him call me every day before he was supposed to leave.  Since I was living in Germany, he was only 2 hours ahead of me, and every morning I expected an e-mail from him.  When there were mornings that I didn't have an e-mail, it usually meant 1 of 4 things:  there had been a mass casualty, there were soldiers who had been killed, so they cut off communication until families had been notified, or they had a power outage of some sort, or something had happened to Scott.  Talk about relief whenever he was able to communicate again.  I always felt that sadness no matter what--imagining someone was getting a knock at her door, or I started being jumpy about what if I had a knock at my door.  Thankfully he did not go off the post much (an American soldier did not want to step foot off the post--you were automatically a target out there).  In Tal-Afar, they were seen as heroes, because they had gotten rid of the 400 terrorists living there who mainly attacked civilians.  Ramadi was the hot-bed for Saddam Hussein's loyalists, so as far as they were concerned, we did not need to be there.  The concern I had was that once in awhile Scott would be told at the last minute to jump in a vehicle and go along.  I never knew when these would be until after he had gotten back safely, but it did cause anxiety when I didn't hear from him.  Often he didn't have time to call, because they were so busy taking care of people once they got to Ramadi.
This deployment plays a part in our current situation emotionally--there were times at his previous job and current job where I have felt he wasn't respected. It seemed they forgot that he had been practicing pediatrics before we got here, and that he had spent a year putting traches in soldiers and stabilizing them (adult trauma medicine). Their "clinic" consisted of cardboard boxes holding their supplies, and wooden beds painted white that were hosed off afterward. He had been in the worst situations; together we knew how to handle when things aren't perfect. When you're in these scenarios, you work with what you have, try to come up with ways to be the most efficient, because every second counts, and above all, you serve others. Maybe I shouldn't feel defensive when someone tells him "you, know the 'perfect' job is not out there," in response to our new job, but I do. We know that--better than I think most doctors do. Not because I think we are superior to anyone else, but we certainly know what is not perfection.  In the last year of his position in Germany he would be on call for one week and the other pediatrician covered the other week (this was back when they still had to attend C-Section deliveries). There were nights we would get a phone call in the middle of the night--"come quickly, the baby is blue" and he'd jump in the car and race over to the hospital.  To put things into perspective, he only works a few hours less now than he did then.  We also know how good it can be if administrations and doctors and staff work together. We know of some amazing clinics around the country, and we are so proud of what they've accomplished in helping children and families get the best care they can. We turned down other jobs like that to come here, because we had a dream that Scott could replicate what other cities are doing right here in Waco, together with administrations and colleagues. Now we have learned it is better to join in with people already trying to accomplish this dream. Both hospitals here are good hospitals--but they do not place priority on pediatric care, and that’s their choice to make. We are not leaving because we have an idealistic, unrealistic dream about what the perfect job is for Scott. We are moving, because a) we feel strongly God is leading us to Nashville, and b) this particular job is hard, and the reality became very clear it's not going to change anytime soon. His clinic is wonderful, but he is also doing a hospital job on top of it, and there is not time for both when you are raising a young family, and there are other jobs out there without the added inpatient responsibilities.
I'm not expecting people to remember this deployment; thankfully, it’s definitely in the past. It just hurts when I hear some of the things he has been told, and if we were in a movie, I have a monologue ready J "we know what a less than perfect job is. Scott knows how to work hard, and he's not afraid of it. He's been in situations that were less than desirable, but he did his job to the best of his ability. He has worked outside the walls of a comfortable clinic, treating soldiers and civilians and insurgents who had been blown up by bombs. We are not naive. We know what amazing opportunity is out there, and we know how difficult of a fight it has been here to try to achieve efficient, excellent care for our children." For some reason I feel compelled to explain our side of things--I'm not asking for sympathy, and we are not bitter--but I do think there is a misconception from the administration and maybe a few other physicians about his current situation and why we are leaving. We love his clinic, staff and patients, so it makes it very heartbreaking to go. Now back to the original subject--thanks for letting me put my thoughts out there :) I want to share these pictures, because I think our soldiers are honorable. They bring tears to my eyes, because the photographer caught the emotion and tension of each moment.


Mass Casualty on its way--notice all the beds outside
 

These vehicles would come rolling in fast with their injured

 

this makes me cry every time.  he just lost his friend and comrade, and the chaplain is with him

 

Scott is in background talking with interpreter

 

Tell you what, I'll focus on our heroes tomorrow.  There are too many amazing pictures to choose from.  That way, you can appreciate these men and women without my monologue beforehand :)

The Beginning of the End of our Wilderness Journey

As I said before, we planned to stay in Waco for at least 20 years.  It wasn't until Scott's contract wasn't renewed at Hillcrest that our security of staying here was shattered  (You can read more about that here).  I will admit that many times before that happened, a still, small, voice in my head kept saying "don't get too comfortable."  I didn't know what that meant exactly--would we be called to overseas missions?  Last year I started reading blogs of people who lived places with the 4 seasons, and my heart was longing for the weather and lifestyle we had in Germany.  Last Spring I realized we had asked God for one more year in Waco, and I started to panic--we were approaching that one year, and should we stay or go?  I settled down, knowing that God would reveal it whenever I needed to know.  Scott's job was long hours and lots of phone time, but we had hopes it would get better.  Previously at Christmas, phrases like "we've got big plans for peds" were being told to us, so we thought this would turn into a more permanent position.  Little by little things were getting more difficult, and I was seeing jobs come across our desk for 8-5:00pm jobs with no call as this is trend more of the larger cities are going to--hospitalists to do the inpatient hospital care.  Scott does not mind being on call for his own patients, but there were additional responsibilities that were not equally shared with other clinics.  I longed for a life where we had our weekends and evenings back instead of feeling we were back in residency.  Suddenly, Scott's sister moved to Northwest Arkansas, and some of the blogs I had been following were from that area.  We were on our way to visit them in June, and we started wondering if maybe we should look at whether or not we would want to live there, too.  Scott had some pediatric connections, and we tried to envision ourselves living up there, but we weren't as excited about it as we thought we would be. 
It was on our way to NWA that we received a crucial phone call that really hit us like a ton of bricks.  The hospital made a decision that was not in favor of pediatrics, and frankly, was a negative decision for the Waco and Central Texas area.  We felt very insecure about what was about to happen in our lives.  We were heartbroken, because the pediatric clinic was going so well, but the situation now seemed impossible.  Consistently when the pediatricians brought up their concerns about the call volume or inpatient demands they were downplayed, and we felt more and more turmoil.  The crucial decision made it clear that the job Scott had was not going to change.  As I said, we were heartbroken.  How could something going so well (their clinic) not be valued enough to try to help them?  The hospital had such an opportunity with the other hospital sending most of its pediatric cases to Temple.
We still had a little bit of hope, because Scott thought that maybe if the administration and other doctors realized the impact of their decision (so many of his patients come from within a 45 mile radius of Waco), they would see the value of improving the pediatric floor.  Having a center for pediatric care in Waco would not only help the hospital (if parents or grandparents see their children/grandchildren are well cared for, they will 100% fall behind that hospital), and people would come here to eat at our restaurants, shop, when they were coming for their appointments.  Our 120,000+ population (Waco alone) would not have to drive to Dallas, Fort Worth, Austin, or Temple to receive pediatric inpatient care.  Having a floor that nurses wanted to work on would retain good nurses and provide them jobs.  Our children are the most vulnerable of society.  Why not provide them the best care in a location where parents don't have to drive 1.5 hours to get good inpatient care?

For Sale

We've had this for sale sign in our yard since Wednesday night.  It kind of made my stomach turn when it became official; although, I know that God is leading us forward to another place, and I trust Him.  This was not the dream we had when we first purchased this house.  I can still remember being brought to tears as we explored each room as more and more details became perfect for what we were looking for in a house--this was it!  We had big plans to be here for at least 20 years, and this was the nursery that was going to become my craft room when we were done having babies.

The night we closed on the house, we went to the lake 1 mile from our house and watched the sun set--the beginning of our new, exciting life after moving back from 4 years in Germany and all that time held.  I was pregnant with Anna, and Scott was about to start his new job.  We were so excited about how he would help build pediatrics in this community, and the future seemed bright with the new women's and childrens center the hospital was completing. Waco was familiar for me, and it was so exciting to be back here among familiar faces, places and Baylor.
Many of you received our letter after New Year's explaining that we are moving to the Nashville area.  It has been an unexpected journey to get to this place, and I look forward to sharing what happened along the way.  Just as God had the Israelites construct a Tabernacle, because He wanted to meet with them in the wilderness, He has been with us during this wilderness journey (as so many before).
I wanted so desperately to share with everyone while it was all unfolding so you could be amazed right alongside us, but we had to keep it secret until the contract was signed.  I look forward to telling you, and hopefully even though we know the end of the story it will still encourage your faith.  Selling a house with 2 busy, young children is difficult.  You can pray it sells quickly for my sanity of trying to keep it clean and picked up!

It's So Hard to Say Good-bye to Yesterday

Last night was one of those nights I didn't want to go to sleep.  I could still say I had seen Pepper that morning, stroked her fur and looked into her eyes.  I knew once I went to sleep, I would awaken to the days without her completely.  I'm sure anyone who has lost someone or a pet knows what I'm talking about.  Even though I was completely prepared for her death and had hoped she would die peacefully in her sleep Monday night, I feel kind of surreal today.  I knew I did not want her to go through one more night of potentially struggling to breathe, but then I would be fooled by her moments of sleeping peacefully and still following me around like a puppy.  Even when Scott took her in yesterday morning to be put to sleep, he said she got out of the car all excited.  Scott had explained to our vet we would be okay bringing her back the next day, if he thought we were even one day too soon.  The vet observed her for a little while and noticed her struggling to breathe at times and said he felt like it was time.
I am not heartbroken like with the loss of a person, but my heart is definitely aching, and I sort of feel sick to my stomach sometimes.  I do feel like crying occasionally, but I got most of that out yesterday. 
Putting Anna to bed tonight made me really sad.  (last night we had a babysitter put the girls to bed, because we had a function).  Our routine is that I turn off the lights and sing "Jesus Loves Me."  Then I tell Anna good-night and have to call Pepper out of the room so I can close the door.  Sometimes she's laying there right next to me while I sing, and sometimes she's across the room, but she was ALWAYS there.  Pepper never let me get out of her sight.  Even if she had just gotten herself comfortable, if I left the room to go get something, she would be coming right behind me.  Now that she was older, it would take her a minute or two to discover I was gone, because her hearing was not as keen as it had been.  I put Anna to bed most nights, so Pepper was always a part of it--waiting in the playroom while we brushed teeth, then moving to Anna's room and listening to the books I would read, and hearing me sing "Jesus Loves Me."  Sometimes she would come over to try to snuggle us.  Tonight I was very aware that her presence was not there, and I especially got sad when I left the room and did not have to call her to come out.  It was always "I love you, Anna; have a good sleep; come on Pepper."  She would have immediately followed me into the TV room, and gotten herself comfortable while I typed this.  But not tonight or from now on.  I know we can get another dog in the future, but I am sure that dog will be attached to one of the girls, hopefully the same way Pepper was attached to me.
Like I said, it's very surreal right now, because we spent 10 years together--we got her less than 5 months after we got married, and she was 2.5.  Always the polite dog--she would stand outside at an open door with her paw raised, waiting for you to say it was okay to come in.  Even when she was outside, she would position herself to look in the windows.  Those eyes were always on me--Pepper didn't like crowds, but she would force herself into the middle just to be able to see me :)  Part Doberman, part Lab, she was calm but playful, smart and tidy, with a ferocious growl and deep bark that would often scare people when she was trying to play and talk to you.   I was telling Scott yesterday that her death brings up so many of the hard times we had together--she was there through them all and has seen me shed many tears.  It was so comforting to have her to hold and hug every night while Scott was deployed for 13 months.  Now we begin our next phase of life without her.  I always wondered what that would be like, and we are so fortunate she was so healthy until the end.  It was maddening to know her body was otherwise healthy, but the cancerous tumor was taking over her throat and nose.  My mind is the type to always daydream about what the end might be like so I can be better prepared.  But now looking back, my stomach just churns when I think about saying good-bye in those last moments--that the time had really come.  I struggled with knowing the difference between "killing" her prematurely and putting her to sleep before she got too miserable.  It was so hard to tell with her, because she truly was so happy just to be in the same room with me.  This probably concealed her pain more than I'd like to know, and for that I am grateful that she didn't have to get to the point of constant suffering.
I love her and miss her!  It was sweet when Scott loaded her into the car yesterday morning.  Anna said "Is Daddy taking Pepper to Heaven?"  I said "yes."  Sweet words from a 3-year-old.

Hard

Life is so good and so hard all at the same time.  The past couple of weeks there are people who have been heavy on my heart, because of the unimaginable loss they have been through.  There is a young mom of 3 here who battled cancer for a little over a year, and she passed away a couple of weeks ago.  I did not know her--just followed her story, because my friends were close to her.  My heart breaks for her husband and 3 kids.  And I can only imagine as a mom how hard that is to know you are leaving your babies and husband--although you know the amazing glory you have ahead of you, I cannot imagine the emotions she went through while she suffered pain and illness and wanted to make the most of her last moments with her family.  From what you can see, she trusted God every step of the way, never complained, always put her hope in the Lord, and remained strong for her family until the end.  I cannot imagine the glories she has seen and experienced the past couple of weeks.  You can watch a video she made 6 weeks before she passed away.   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3r6v7jOUSr8
Again, there are others who have lost mothers this week.  And others who have lost husbands.  It seems like it never ends.  I feel like I was writing a post like this a couple of years ago, because there was such much loss around me.  I was struck with grief when I saw that another young mom lost her husband this past weekend.  His funeral service is today.  Again, I do not know them personally, but their story just resonates with me.  I can only imagine through what I experienced alongside Nicole, who lost her husband while having a young baby, the enormous shock and pain Julee is experiencing and grief for her baby girl who has lost her father.  You can see this video about Matt.
http://nwahomepage.com/fulltext?nxd_id=371742
Kelly from Kelly's Korner has written a good post to sum up some of the same things I have been thinking http://www.kellyskornerblog.com/2012/10/hard.html
What I've realized--we need God more than ever now to be a balm for our broken hearts, to give us strength to get up every day, and to help us not be fearful that we will lose those close to us.  We need the hope of Heaven--I do not understand why He is calling so many people home, but I do think more than ever our thoughts are Heavenward now--hopefully our focus has shifted away from earthly things and more toward what is eternal as we think of those who have gone before us.  Hopefully we are focused less on ourselves and will try to make a dent in helping the hurting around us, whether this is the orphan or widow.

Mindy from Dallas

As I said before, I'm derailing from my usual topics of grief and losing a baby to join Kelly's Korner to show of my amazing single friends :)

Mindy lives in Dallas, and she discipled me while I was in college (We met once a week, and she would pray with me and encourage me in my faith).  I really looked up to her as a spiritual mentor--she is bold, loves the Lord, and has a heart for the Nations.  She has great administrative skills and is also great with people--not afraid to make new friends.  While we were in Germany, she was doing mission work in the Middle East.  I loved when she would come stay with us while she renewed her Visa--it was a treat to get to hear about the amazing things God was doing among her and her friends.  Needless to say, she has a great understanding of world events and other cultures. 

Mindy has a radiant, fun personality.  She is easy-going, a great listener, a loyal friend, well-spoken, wise, not afraid to try new things, and she is close to her nieces.  She is active and also enjoys going to sporting events--especially Ranger games.  And since she's originally from California, it's still in her blood--she loves the beach, sunshine, convertibles and a good glass of wine. :)

You have to meet her!   Leave me a comment or send me an e-mail at Rachelle@cradled.org if you would like to get in touch with her.

Heather from Chicago

Today I am completely derailing from my usual topics regarding grief, loss of a baby or other deep thoughts :)  I am linking up with Kelly's Korner, because I have 2 amazing friends that I want to show off.

Heather with her family (on left)

Heather with her brother

Heather is from Chicago.  We met a few years ago after I had graduated from college and instantly became friends after being forced into doing a skit for the singles retreat.  I have such great memories of that year we spent together in Charleston, SC, and I really found a true friend in Heather.  She now lives in Chicago, and we still keep in touch and get to see each other fairly often.
She is wise and thoughtful with a bit of a dreamer inside, COMPASSIONATE, adventurous--I have fun memories of mountain biking and ballroom/swing dancing--and during that time she helped out the children's ministry at a church with low-income families.  She enjoys and appreciates all kinds of music and arts.  We could turn on the silliness, but at the same time I love calling her for deep conversations.  She is caring, loves the Lord, has a sweet demeaner, loves to laugh, and comes from a great family.  She is not afraid to try something out of her comfort zone!

She wants you to know that she enjoys running, biking, dancing, cooking, photography and would prefer to be active than watching a lot of TV.  :)

She would love to meet a Godly man who desires to serve the Lord and do the adventure of life together.

You've got to meet her!  She is gold!  Leave me a comment or e-mail rachelle@cradled.org if you are interested in getting to know her better!

Heather running a half marathon

Nona's Girl

I really don't have words for today.  So I don't even know why I'm writing a blog post, but I feel like I just have to sit down and write.  This post is more for me than for you--I just don't have the energy to pick up a pen and write in my journal.  It's been a long week of waiting (moreso for my friend than for me).  Her 23 week old baby had Trisomy 18 and had conditions that were incompatible with life.  As I have said before, it's not enough to lose a baby, but what you have to go through to get the baby out makes it even worse.  She had wanted Cradled to be there to help take care of the baby after she is born and to take pictures to remember her by.  The difference this time is that we were friends before Cradled was even part of my life, so I would have been there, regardless.  The other reason I felt like I needed to be there, was because her mom had passed away a year and a half ago, so she wouldn't be able to be with her.  No one should go through this alone.  So, we had a hospital chaplain friend who had also lost her mother, me who also lost a baby to Trisomy 18, and my Cradled friend Rachel to take the pictures (who had also taken this family's pictures before).  (and of course, her husband).
All of the fears that I had during my experience were the same fears she was having--having to lay in a hospital bed for potentially 3 days, knowing full well why you were there and dreading what was to come.  She checked in to the hospital yesterday afternoon to be dilated and begin the pitocin.  So, Rachel, Sarah and I rushed there last night to keep her company as we waited.  In spite of the situation, we were able to have some good conversation and pass the time.  Once the doctor said she was only dilated to a 1, I decided to go home to get some sleep.  We left knowing that she was about to get an epidural and the last one of us left once she was asleep for the night.  This morning I dropped the girls off and stopped by again.  The doctor checked and by noon he said she would deliver later today (we were all relieved that it would not take long for her sake!).  At this point I had to leave for a couple of errands and picked up the girls.  I had planned to go back to the hosptial tonight whenever Scott came home.  At 3:10 my friends called and said she would deliver in an hour and not more than 2.  I scurried around to find a place to drop off the girls, and at the last second a friend called back that she would be home.  I ran the girls there and made it to the hospital at 4:10.  We were talking and all the sudden my friend made a face and said she felt something really weird.  She checked, and yes, the baby was coming.
Baby girl had problems, but she was beautiful.  It was all so surreal; but yet I will never forget it.  There were some beautiful moments--borderline holy moments.  But I've already forgotten a lot, because it was such a blur.  We had no idea what to expect or the right way to bathe her delicate skin, but we figured it out as we went along.   Once all of the nurses and staff had left, we put her in a diaper and the prettiest blanket.  There was a lot of peace.  We sang a blessing, and I could see that mother's love in my friend's eyes and for a brief moment some smiles as she lovingly looked at her little girl.
No mother should ever have to deliver a stillborn.  But it happens.  The rest of us can leave the hospital and go back to our lives--although our hearts and minds are forever changed from seeing this precious, tiny, sleeping baby.  My friend will awaken tomorrow to suddenly not being pregnant anymore and doing the hardest thing--leaving the hospital without a baby after going through labor.  Then all the awkward questions start from innocent people--"how many children do you have?"  Praying that the Lord showers them with His love.  Lord, we need you, as so many are suffering around us.

You Were There

This song by Avalon gets me every time.  I cannot get to the end of it without tears streaming down my face.  Part of it is tied to the fact that I first heard the song while Scott was in Iraq, in the midst of danger, but also how God got me through emotionally.  No matter what your situation, it speaks to God's grace to help you through it.  David must have been so afraid when he faced the giant, Goliath, but God gave him power in his swing.  When Abraham faced obedience that didn't make sense (being told to sacrifice his son), God provided calm faith and a solution that kept God's promise to Abraham and spared his son.  As the song says, He is there in the midst of danger's snare and when things seem unclear.  Jesus is the risen Lamb of God, and with that, we can get through anything, because He provided a way for us to have relationship with Him--in our weaknesses and trials, we can cry out to Him, and He will love us and help us have strength and peace to get through it.

the only good video I could find was a live version, but it's good :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bvgwrTf08G4

You Were There by Avalon
I wonder how it must have felt
When David stood to face Goliath on a hill
I imagine that he shook with all his might
Until You took his hand, and held on tight

'Cause You were there, You were there
In the midst of danger's snare
You were there, You were there always
You were there when the hardest fight
Seemed so out of reach
Oh, You were there, You were always there
You were always there

So there he stood upon that hill
Abraham with knife in hand was poised to kill
But God in all his sovereignty had bigger plans
And just in time, You brought a lamb

'Cause You were there,
You were there
In the midst of the unclear
You were there, you were there always
You were there when obedience
Seemed to not make sense
You were there, You were always there
You were always there

So haven't I learned that my ways
Aren't as high as Yours are
And You alone keep the universe
From crumbling into dust
You are God and though we would
Not have understood You
There You were

Hanging blameless on a cross
You would rather die than leave us in the dark
Every moment, every planned coincidence
Just all makes sense
With Your last breath

You were there, You were there
During history’s darkest hour
You were there, You were there always
You were the Victor and the King
You were the power in David's swing
You were the calm in Abraham
You are the God who understands
You are the strength when we have none
You are the living, Holy one
You were, You are and You will always be
the Risen Lamb of God

You were, You are and You will always be
The Risen Lamb of God

Something smells good up there. . .

Pepper's (our dog) tumor in her mouth is still growing pretty rapidly toward the back of her throat.  I am getting more nervous about the end--will I awaken one morning and she won't be breathing anymore?  Will I come home and she won't come out to greet me?  Will we have to put her to sleep?  Will I hold her when she takes her last breath after the shot, or will I say my final good-bye before hand?  (any experiences you want to share regarding this will be appreciated as I decide what to do in this scenario) The night before last was the first time I really started having a hard time letting go.  I'm glad I have the chance to prepare for it, but as fast as the tumor is growing, it seems that it could be soon.  Then I think--"it could be a few months before it makes her sick enough to take her life."  She seems so normal right now that the more I pet her and talk to her, the more I begin to miss her as I imagine this might be the last day I feel her soft, warm fur closely anymore.  Sigh.  She seems to be constantly by my side these days, too, so I will notice her absence even more than when I was busy with a newborn and she kind of stayed in the background.  The good thing about pets is that you can always get yourself reattached to another one. . .but I don't like it that we really are at the end for her. 

The first pic today is kind of funny.  In Germany, we almost always took her to restaurants if we walked from our house, and if we drove somewhere out of town, it was a nice way for her to be out of the hotel room for the evening.  She usually stayed under the table (just two of us back then, so she had the other two spots to herself).  Most of the time the server did not even know she was there, and we made a point to never feed her directly from the table.  So, this particular meal, it was quite funny.  You can see Scott just received his plate of sausage and is using the hand sanitizer--suddenly a black nose is poking her way up, forcing her way through his legs.  We got quite a laugh since she stays so quiet :)  mmm-mmm.  smelled something good up there. . .

Then the day we all 3 moved to Germany--flying out of DFW.  We had so much to learn, and we had no idea what our house would look like.  Our possessions would arrive a couple of months later (made you realize what you really can live without).  It was definitely a journey into the unknown (although I had at least taken German at Baylor).

Our 1200 square foot apartment with government furniture

Scott and Pepper strolling through one of our favorite towns--Rothenberg



Luke Lives On

I had to share about an organization if you have not heard about it.  We at www.Cradled.org have been working closely with one of our local hospitals to ensure that the women and families who experience the loss of a baby have support and encouragement the minute they enter the hospital.  (We are waiting on approval from the other hospital).  Providence has partnered with the organization Luke Lives On to provide each family who is leaving the hospital empty handed with a box of gifts and things for grief support.  Lisa Hayes is the founder of Luke Lives On close by here in Austin, Texas.  After the loss of her son, Luke, she made it her mission to reach out to other grieving families.  Her work is priceless!  You can sponsor a box, and each family who gives a box will receive a note when it has been passed on to another family.  Please check out her website www.lukeliveson.org  We were shown inside the boxes last week after we met with nurses to discuss what Cradled has to offer.  All of us were deeply touched and thankful that these women and families will have something to hold that will hopefully bring them comfort on their journey of grief.

The Well-Traveled Dog

Our dog Pepper has cancer covering a large portion of the roof of her mouth, so we don't know how much time we have left with her.  She seems to be doing great right now, but I am a little fearful each week if she will take a turn for the worse.  I am posting pics of her/our travels abroad while we were stationed in Heidelberg, Germany. This is the third post in this series.  Pepper likes to be the Alpha dog whenever another lady dog is around.  She is very protective of her house if another female dog comes in.  (she's so sweet and calm you would never know this about her, but she's got some Doberman in her).  A neighbor's German shepherd stopped by and got her on top of the head and around the neck.  I checked her neck out afterwards, and she seemed fine.  A couple of hours later, Pepper kept putting her head in our laps, and suddenly I noticed she had a small hole on top of her head.  Poor girl probably had some kind of headache, but it was particularly interesting how she kept trying to show us.  Thankfully Scott had some suture kits left over from Iraq and proceeded to sew her up.  Ironically, she is often not very trusting of Scott, but the whole time he was fixing her, she kept her head so still in his lap and completely knew he was helping her.  You can see no one had to hold her down.  I just thought this was a cute pic of our nephew "helping" :)

this was the first time she had ever been in snow--Kandersteg, Switzerland.  It was also the first place I ever snow skiied :) She went crazy running through this winter wonderland. 



Neuschwanstein Castle

 

We walked up to the doors of Neuschwanstein Castle in Germany, and Scott was "carrying me away."  Pepper was barking and playing along

Cochem Castle

Pepper actually got to go inside the Cochem castle.  This cute little town is along the Mosel river in Germany.  You can see the castle overlooking, and then Pepper is relaxing inside the dining room during our guided tour.  The last one is the vineyards that were just up the hill from the little village we lived in outside of Heidelberg. I miss those walks!  Tune in again later for some more!

Nussloch Vineyards

"Breakthrough"

I know I promised more pics of Pepper--we've had guests, so I did not get to it today--I still will--sorry about that!  However, I have something better to share.  Please read this amazing post.  I mentioned Tanner awhile back--a 14-year-old who was in a car accident and experienced severe brain trauma on March 23.  I have been reading about his journey, and this post from his parents just seems amazing in light of what he's been through.  Please read the "Breakthough" post--so many interesting points written by his father, and I'm filled with much awe and joy for them, as this was their first real conversation with their son since the accident.
http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/tannerunderwood

More pics of Pepper

Thought I would share some more pictures and the stories behind them.  I think Pepper's cancer is growing pretty rapidly, so we may not have much time left with her.  I really wasn't sure what to expect.  She started kind of coughing/gagging fairly frequently yesterday, so it made me wonder if the tumor is starting to gag her a bit or if the cancer has spread to her lungs already.  I had Scott open up her mouth, and the tumor has already spread toward the back of her throat.  When we first discovered it a few weeks ago, it was the size of a half dollar coin.  It has grown quite quickly!  So, I thought I would share some more fun pictures, and you can see a little bit of life over in Europe (I will share more pics again tomorrow of her in/near the castles).

This was one of our favorite palace gardens, only about 20 minutes from our house.  Schwetzingen.  Pepper wanted to chase those ducks so badly :)  Scott would always say "what is it" (even if there was nothing around) and she would immediately and excitedly try to find the animal/bird he was talking about.  It was their little game.

Fall in Heidelberg

I had to share this next picture, because this was taken a week or two after we lost baby Grace.  I was so thankful to have Scott with me, along with Pepper, my faithful friend :)

Pepper strolling through one of our favorite places--Lauterbrunnen, Switzerland

  Inside the china store. . .she looks uncomfortable :)

She wasn't sure what to think of these cows along one of the most beautiful mountain hikes we've ever been on--a train ride up from Lauterbrunnen

Enjoy these pics--more tomorrow!

Pepper and Memories

Pepper in Switzerland

Heidelberg

Pepper Shopping




Pepper today

I have been taking a LONG trip down memory lane.  It has made me miss Germany and all of the places we traveled so much!  We recently found out our dog, Pepper, has cancer on the soft palette of her mouth.  Because of the location, it cannot be removed.  Not knowing exactly how much longer she has with us, I decided to create a flip book of a lot of the pictures we have from her adventures.  This meant going through all of our digital pictures--which began when we moved to Germany in 2004.This October will mark 10 years that we have had her!  We were married May 26, 2002 and lived in San Antonio.  In October we brought Pepper into our home; she was 2.5 years old.  Since I had never had a dog, the idea of raising a puppy terrified me, especially knowing we had brand new carpet and would be selling our house in less than two years to go to our next duty station.  Someone overheard my husband's phone conversation with me about not wanting a puppy for those reasons and offered that he had a dog who was well-trained that he wanted to get rid of.  We wondered what was wrong with her--he simply wanted a dog for hunting, and Pepper was gun-shy.  His wife told him they could not get another dog until he found a home for Pepper.  It turned out to be a perfect match. 
Pepper is the most obedient dog you will ever meet.  She does not chew things or jump on people, bark excessively, and she is very careful about how she walks, trying not to step on things.  She also walks best when not on a leash.  
Thus, when we moved to Heidelberg, Germany, she was the perfect dog to take EVERYWHERE.  She has many tales to tell--going to the bank, many restaurants laying under or beside the table, castles, some old cathedrals, a china dishes store, riding on buses, trains, the mountains, you name it.  She even had a passport that got stamped.  This dog has been to France, Switzerland, Germany and Austria.  I would not have made it through Scott's deployment without having her to hug every night before bed.  She has witnessed the tears I shed after he left for Iraq, especially the raw tears after Doug was killed, and then wrestling with God after we thought Scott would be sent on a dangerous mission.  Then came the mornings I would spend time with God to work through the loss of baby Grace.  She has seen it all!
Germany changed her--she became more outgoing and actually enjoyed all of the people coming into our home for our small group and different parties.  In San Antonio, she was a scared dog; in Germany she would hear the kids playing outside in the afternoon and beg with her deep growl/bark "oww wow wow" to go out to the playground to run around and see them. 
Since we moved into this house when I was pregnant with Anna, her spot has been in front of a sliding door that connects our bedroom to the nursery.  She has raised her head as I have had many middle-of-the night feedings and been thankful when we have had afternoon naps together :)  I will miss hearing her snoring :)  She has fallen in love with the girls--immediately she loved Anna and was very protective--always staying between the baby and whoever was visiting.  Since Elizabeth was born, her hearing isn't as good, so she's not quite in tune with what's going on and stays asleep.
While Scott wanted the dog the most, she favored me. To this day, she cannot be anywhere that she does not keep her eyes on me. It stresses her if she cannot find me so she will follow me from room to room. I have never had a more loyal friend :)
Right now, you can't tell that anything is wrong with her.  I was prepared that since she was 12 years old we might not have much time left with her.  She had a clean bill of health at her check-up, but a couple of months later, her breath was so bad, I had Scott open her mouth to see if she had an infection or growth.  Sure enough, we saw something and the biopsy proved it to be a fast-growing melanoma.  I do hope that as it spreads she will die peacefully or that we will know the time is near.  We are prepared to put her to sleep if it seems she is suffering.
She's doing so well now, so we are trying to give her lots of attention and treats.  She seems very happy with this arrangement, too.  :)  I could do a commercial for IAMS dog food--it has kept her body in great condition for so long.  I do not like to think of the ugly cancer spreading in her body; right now I'm trying to really enjoy what time we have left with her, however long that will be.  Enjoy the pics; I might share more as the days go on.