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It’s been a little over a year since my first seizure, and what a year it has been! Lyme and co-infection, a failed treatment, many respiratory infections, dealing with the medical field, and still the unknown. The year hasn’t been all bad though. We have shared a lot of treasured family time, we have celebrated birthdays and holidays, we have been able to see family that live far away more often, I have been able to watch a lot of television (I really like T.V.:), and most importantly God has showed His love for me in countless ways. He has mostly showed me how important I am, by using other people to bring His love to me. The way God chooses to use His people, and the way His people choose to listen, truly humbles me and brings me much comfort and joy.
After about 8 months of being ill, to the point of being bedridden for months, I started to fear the worst. I never lost my faith in God, nothing like that. But I began to drown in an ocean of fear and sadness. Fear of dying, and of dying in a painful or terrifying way. Panicked and so saddened to leave my children, especially with them being so young and still needing me as much as they do. I would imagine the confusion that Vincenzo would feel, being that he wouldn’t understand where I was, or when I was coming back. Isabella’s fragile heart becoming hardened and no one being able to love and enjoy her the way I do. Anne shutting down and never facing the bitterness she feels from me leaving her when she didn’t want me to. And it wasn’t just me afraid. Both girls were scared as well. They heard the talk, and they saw me in such a fragile place, that even they knew that this is what the end may look like. They questioned me often about my death, and would ask our friends about it when our friends helped while I was in the hospital. I did my best to ease their fears, but I could only say so much. I didn’t want to give them false hope. So, whenever they asked me if I was dying, I would tell them that I didn’t know, but that I was fighting with everything I had in me so that I could live. I took those opportunities to talk to them about God. That God didn’t do this to me, that God has been here for me through all of this, and that they can be mad at God if they need to be. But that what matters most to me, is that they remember that no one can ever love them as much as God does, not even me. That I want them to always find their way back to God, and to live how God wants them to live, no matter how hard it may be. I want my family to be reunited in Heaven, and God wants that even more than I do. We are all His children, every single one of us, and He wants to see us all home with Him where we belong.
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A couple months back my health took the scariest turn yet. I mean, I just could not think
straight for weeks. This medical mystery still hasn’t been figured out. There is still testing that needs to be done, and doctors that I need to see. This experience has by far changed me the most than any other moment this past year. It has made me realize how badly I want to live, and to live my life for God. It has made me a different mother, a different wife, and has changed my priorities in countless ways. It has made me want to hug my family, and never let them go. It has made me want to spend every moment trying to be the person God wants me to be, and to spread as much love as I possibly can. Now, this does not mean this is what I am doing! I am weak, I often don’t feel well, I am still very much afraid, I am tired. And that is all ok, because I am a sinner. But I am working on becoming better, and stronger in my faith, and I’m doing so with a happy thankful heart. I think what has changed the most this past month and ½, is every day I have woken up and the first thing I do, is say a short prayer of thankfulness. Instead of waking up in fear, I am waking up so overcome with joy and thankfulness to have been given another day. And even better than that, a hopeful heart that I will see many days still. That maybe all of this is just a quality of life issue, and not a death sentence. I know this feeling of joy and thankfulness is a sweet gift from my Heavenly Father, and it’s a gift I currently hold most dear to my heart.
Lately I have taken on a new attitude that I most commonly hear called “Fake It Till You Make It”. I simply call it, “ignoring”. Maybe this is what people call positive thinking, though I’m not sure. I’m not seeing the future as a bright place, I’m just not allowing this past year to be my new normal. Ignoring really started by accident, it started in prayer. Anyone who knows me, knows how miserably awful I am at prayer. I try to pray, and often, but I so easily become distracted. Thirty seconds in, I realize I’m making a grocery list in my head, and I don’t even do the grocery shopping. Or it’s like when you blank out while reading a book. You realize you are 10 pages in from where you started, but you have no idea what you read, and you must start over again. Illness brought on a new determination to get better at communicating with God though, so I tried something new. I write down my prayers. Usually just a list, but sometimes, when concentrating is super difficult, I doodle my prayer instead of speak it in my thoughts. I go line by line in my list, and before you know it, I am praying (not out loud, I still haven’t conquered that). Before you knew it, my thoughts were more on the good and on others, and less on me and my problems. Then people would ask how I was, and I would either tell them I was great, thank you, or I wouldn’t answer if it felt too overwhelming. Rob and I started reading the Bible again every evening. The children and I start their school day off with the Bible. Before you knew it, my life was becoming so centered on God and God’s will, that I was running out of time to obsess on my fear and sadness.
I’m not sure where along the timeline here that this next thing happened, but slowly and surely, a new gift was showing up. Hope. I was looking forward to things again. I was trying to get out and about, if even that just means my own backyard. I have practiced driving twice (I need to give Rob ample time to emotionally recover before trying for a third time;). I even took control of my own body and decided to change my own treatment for a bit. I don’t know what the future is going to bring, but what I do know, is that I am here right now. None of this means that I don’t still get consumed by feelings of fear or sadness, but it does mean that, for now, I am ignoring that part of my life and giving attention to the part that brings joy to the Lord.
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The point of this blog post, is to update you in a way, and to invite you to a celebration. My birthday is in July. I don’t know when I stopped caring about my birthday. Maybe when I became a mom, maybe when getting older no longer sounded like an excuse for a celebration, maybe I just got physically too tired for another birthday (maybe all three). Not this year though, this year I am celebrating my life! I am celebrating that I am here. I am celebrating that my life now has more of the meaning it should have, instead of the meaning that society wants it to have. I am celebrating that I not just care about my life, but that I again share in hopes and dreams with Rob for what is to come for us and for our family.
So, this July 23rd, we will be celebrating at the Katie & Irwin Kahn Jewish Community Center! We are renting out a room where we will have all our LuLaRoe clothes with us, birthday cake and snacks, and a day of joy and celebration. We also will be donating 10% of our gross sales to the Jewish Community Center. The JCC has been such a steadfast and loving place for our family. I hope to show them how they treat others, really makes a positive difference. Please stop by and join in on our celebration this day!
Sunday July 23rd, from 1-5, at the Katie & Irwin Kahn Jewish Community Center. 306 Flora Dr. Columbia
Please stop by, tell a friend, bring a friend! We want this day to be full of life and celebration!!

No one is prepared to be sick. I wasn’t prepared for what happened to me 10 months ago. At first, well, once I got past the terror of thinking I was going to die, I had a great attitude. But month after month, with little to no improvement, my attitude has changed. I have learned a lot about illness. When I think of someone being sick, I think mostly of that person and his or her struggle. I never stopped to really understand the whole picture. For me, the whole picture is that this illness has kept me from my children for 10 months, which is by far the most devastating side effect of this illness for me. The whole picture is my husband losing his job because I can’t drive anymore, and there is nothing we can do about that, but for him to have to drive me. The whole picture is us taking a loan for $10,000 from our bank and spending every last penny of that on doctors, maxing out every credit card, and having to borrow money (being that the majority of my medical care isn’t covered by insurance).

clothing line. Who knew I would ever feel connected to clothing? Not long ago, my idea of clothes was go to Old Navy, find a shirt you like, buy it in every color, and be done with it. But LuLaRoe came around and changed that for me. I will get more into that in another post though. It was a lovely morning and part of an afternoon. I did feel obligated to dress up, so I wore a not very fancy dress called a Julia, and I felt fabulous. I did not wear leggings or stockings, because it’s still hot here in the afternoon, and I thought that would be over doing it. Well, this room was freezing cold!!! So, I finally decided to be weird and brave and ask someone if I could buy a Sarah (a sweater) off a manikin, or I had to go. So, I asked for the
sweater;) I thought of my father as I did it. Knowing him, he probably would have just taken it, but I at least asked first, right? So, I got to stay, and I have a new and beautiful Sarah!! When I got home, I had Rob take a couple photos of me standing in my LuLaRoe style. Then I went to bed. He woke me up for a very late dinner so I can take my medicine, so I can take my probiotics, then I went back to bed. That should be it, right? Well, it’s not. I’m still recovering from it. This is not something that should surprise me, but it still does. I’m possibly still mourning the loss of the old me, who knows. I just want to get used to it. Rob, my husband, says me getting used to it is the last thing that he wants me to do. He hopes that I always feel this way, so I can fight it and beat it. No one knows though, we will just have to wait and see. So today, I’m just a bit bummed and disappointed. Life goes on though. It’s not as fun with me not involved in it of course, but it still goes on;-)






bible, but then I realized, maybe God is trying to communicate with me. So, I read it. I, may have possibly misread what God was trying to say. I was thinking that God was all “good job at fighting this thing (Lyme, coinfection, and spiritual warfare), and I’ve got your back”. I realized, not much later, that I think he was more like, “get over yourself, I was trying to tell you that things were about to get much more difficult, but I will protect you.”. It was a tiny bit of a humbling experience.
moved her into a company where she would get care in her day to day life. Well her day to day life wasn’t supposed to be stuck in her house. It was supposed to be out and about, around people, in challenging situations, at co-ops, playing sports, the list goes on and on (basically what we had been living before 8 months ago). But instead we all got dealt a raw deal, and we got Lyme disease instead. Anne’s summer, instead of being full of incredible therapy, was full of stress and confusion. Our return to our home state after I received a couple months of care, is not what Anne was expecting it to be. It was empty, it was lonely, it was as if she had been forgotten by those that she loves so dearly. You see, therapists have a certain way that they act with Anne, because they are professionals, and it’s a professional relationship with a client. But Anne was 2, then 3, then 4, then 5, then 6, and now just recently 7. As much as this is explained to her, all she knows is that she loves her therapists. But she also knows all too well, that one day, any day, they can just go away forever. Well, Anne’s therapists boss did some very unkind things to us, we found out about it this week, but it has been going on for some time now. Things that no longer allowed me to allow her near my family. For many complicated reasons, this changes how Anne’s therapy will look, and Anne loses one of her favorite therapists. Her feelings are hurt. She is sad, she is mad, and she is confused. But she can’t talk to anyone about that, because if she does, she will get into trouble. Which, of course isn’t true, I would love for her to talk to me about it, even yell to me about it. But not too long ago, she is right, she would have gotten in trouble. Well, I guess not trouble. But we would have written down her behavior, or her therapists would, and then it would be dealt with later. We have since stopped that type of therapy, but she’s just not ready to come out of her shell and trust us yet. So, my baby, not a statistic or some information in a file that is sent to an insurance company, but my smart and beautiful human being of a child, is having to go through some changes. Unfortunately, even though I know she is under some of the best care she can be under, I am still very sad for my daughter. I am mad for her. I am confused for her. I am frustrated for her. I guess I am all the things that she is, but I am allowed to act on my feelings, she isn’t. I can even yell and scream if I want to;)






I had a lot of happy expectations for week 7, because week 7 was our week off from Classical Conversations. So this gave me a week to help the girls catch up a bit in areas I felt they lacked. It gave us an excuse to kind of switch things up, and it gave me an excuse to not exit my house so I can worry about trying to get better (from my pneumonia, not the Lyme, a week at home isn’t going to help the Lyme;). So that is what we did. I wish I could say that I relaxed way more than I did, but I didn’t. What I did do though, which is where I would like this blog post to concentrate on more, is spend time with my family, I got to receive blessings from God through his people, I got rescued from a friend from a bad smell in my home that would allow me no peace, and I got to spend time with who I like to think are new friends.
things that would make you gasp, that would make you say “that’s not possible”, or “isn’t that illegal”, or “why would that even be happening?”. I can tell you that the children, though they got a lot of school done, didn’t get done all of the “fun” that I was hoping I could pull off. I could tell you of all the hours I have lost to my life and with my family because of all the sleep I have been needing, and what that has done to us. But I realized something this week. I realized that God is anything and everything that is good. He can do or not do whatever it is he is going to do or not do. But he does something that I have always found to be so miraculous, he chooses people, he chooses people to be his hands and feet. This week, week 7 (and also week 8), people proved to me that there is so so so much good in this world. I know my children are too young to fully comprehend what all of this means, but I explain it to them, and will continue to, and hopefully it will eventually rub off.

a cat knows, that you always know cat urine. I don’t know who’s this is, or where, or why. All I know is that I could not stand it for one more moment!! So for real, my family and friend took me seriously. Aren’t they so awesome? Rob threw a small couch out that smelled something awful, and washed the curtains (the couch is incredibly old and was more than ready to go, so don’t worry, I promise we weren’t being wasteful). Then my friend came over and cleaned that one section of the carpet that was making me feel sick. I know she so badly wanted to finish the entire carpet, but her son was sick, and her husband who she so very rarely gets to see, was home only for a few more hours. Yet she STILL came over just to get a smell out of my house. Which, totally worked by the way. Now we do have the pretty streak in our carpet and the rest of it looks extra gross, which it is. But the smell is gone!! She sacrificed time with her sick child, the very little time she gets with her husband, to come to my home and work hard to get a smell out. My children had to prep this area for my friend. As in move things, put things away, vacuum, and all so that a friend can come over just to love on us and to expel that smell! That’s some good school right there.


My Uncle isn’t the only artist in the family. My family is full of talent, some very well known, and some less known. My father for example is a musician, composer, teacher and maker of music. My sister sings so beautifully, she even attempted to go to college for it. Music as a career turned out not to be where her heart was though. I have an Uncle who was a band master, a very generous and well known one within his own time.
box was very large. We all opened it together. The children asked to touch it. My instinct was to tell them no, because my Uncle worked very hard on this, it’s for looking not for touching. Then I just as quickly realized how very wrong I was. Of course they can touch it. Touch it, learn from it, experience it. So they did. And they were just in awe with how much texture there was. So they brought out their oils again, and they got to work. Every single day they went back to these paintings. They painted them to Miles Davis, Dee Dee Bridgewater, Lady Gaga, David Bowie, and Taylor Swift. I didn’t think these paintings were ever going to dry. They sat in my kitchen wet as can be for over a week. Until finally, they dried.




watch my children curl up to Ms. Amber, one of the teachers, the same woman who helped us the week before. They just love them some Ms. Amber. Also, Vincenzo, who just turned 4 (which I am in denial about) wants to join the class too. So we are going to try to make that work for him. I think he really just wants to be around friends and have some structure, but those are both great reasons to join a classroom setting. And of course to top it all off, they got to share cupcakes with their friends, because it was birthday week in our home. That’s always the icing on the cake;)






decision to go to MUSC. My reasoning was, I was so miserable as it was, it’s not like I was warm and comfy at home, so I may as well go and get something accomplished. Here is something you may enjoy though. I love to watch British T.V. So all night long I was watching some series that Rob and I can never remember the name to. Larkrise to Candleford maybe? So we always call it something different, such as 45 Parklane Road. He dreams in British accents. He always knows when I couldn’t sleep, because he wakes up telling me that all of his dreams were full of British accents. Which honestly, sounds quite lovely to me. So Amber, this new amazing person in my life, took my children to their homeschool group that day, so they did not have to miss another day of school. She actually is their teacher, so it worked out just perfectly. I was too sick and scared of MUSC to have to worry about my children on top of all of that. So it was so nice to know that my children were in great hands. I fully trust everyone in our Classical Conversations group with my kiddos, and that says a whole lot.
again. I LOVE ANNE’S THERAPISTS!!! She didn’t break any rules and teach the children, nothing like that, but just her presence is such a great comfort to me, and the same goes for her afternoon therapist who we only get to see twice a week now. Rob had a doctor appointment that day in Orangeburg. I have no idea where that is, I just know that if it weren’t for Anne’s therapist, I would have been alone with the kiddos. The person who hasn’t slept, or eaten in days now. We had a half day of school that day, and the children did an amazing job. I’m super duper proud of them, especially the one with Autism, because I know caring about other people’s feelings and problems, really isn’t her thing. They clearly knew how bad I was feeling though, they really had had a great week so far, and they were super cooperative with just doing the work that I needed them to do.


