Turning 33.

As I get older, the less I care about what people think. This is such a good thing for me. I’ve always cared WAY too much what people thought of me, of my family, my clothes, my hair, my teeth, my work, my size… everything. I’d like to think as I age, I am becoming wiser.

This last year has been full of lessons on love, grace, and acceptance.

We had the privilege of bringing new life into this world – Lucy Amalia. Our #giantbaby. She is going to be the athlete in the family. This sweet almost 1 year old, she is a strong one (strong in physical strength and will) and she is fearless (likes to jump out of your arms type fearless). Her smile and goofy antics has brought so much joy into our lives. O adores her little sister – and L adores her big sister. To be a witness of their mutual love and adoration often leaves me speechless and in tears. I love their love.

It seems that quite a bit of my 32nd year of life was spent in hospitals and doctors’ offices (and being subjected to weird contraptions that told medical professionals nothing about my passing out condition). Pregnancy and delivery will put you in hospitals and doctors offices. But also, unknown health issues do that to you too. Apparently, as you age, your body decides to think on its own and do weird things. As I started to lose control over what was happening in my brain, I took control over my physical health. I regulated my eating habits and started working out…even more than I already was (yes, I realize how lucky I am that I can do this). I am officially back to my pre-O weight and size. Ok, maybe even pre-pre- O weight and size (although, I really can’t remember what size or weight I used to be, I just know nothing fits). I mentioned before of that quiet dark place I was sitting in, well, taking control over something helped me climb out of it. Think what you will (remember I said I was getting better at not caring?), but taking control over my physical health helped shine some light into my life (don’t worry, I’m still being healthy, ok?).

I hit a low point a couple months ago when my thoughts were centered on death; me dying, S dying, the kids dying… accidents happening… I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about dying and the what ifs: what if we both die and orphan our kids. What if I’m out with the kids and my aneurysm blows, what will happen to the kids. What if my aneurysm blows while I’m swimming and I drown. What if I have a blackout episode while I’m bathing the girls (did you notice they were kind of stinky for a while?). What if. What if. What if.

Friends. Having friends (and the best husband) who are compassionate, understanding, and gifted in counseling. They are gold. They helped me feel normal. They told me my thinking was normal when all I felt was abnormal. They gave me the gift of grace. (You know who you are. I cried to you and said crazy things to you and you loved me. Thank you.)

Because seriously, I’m 32. Ok, 33 tomorrow. But, I’m 33, seemingly healthy, and training for an Ironman. I’ve done everything right (ok, except when I drank too much at a party, slipped and broke my teeth. Remember that? Yup. Still dealing with the aftermath of that. Just add it to the-what the hell list of year 32.) But I care about people, I feed the homeless… I house the homeless. I love my family. I would give my life for my hubs and children and probably other people too. I try to treat people the way I want to be treated. (This is me whining.) But aneurysm and weird blackout sessions -they don’t discriminate. They don’t care how great or kind or awesome you are. It just happens. So it’s taken some time, but I’m starting to accept it. I’ve even purchased a medical alert type bracelet (a cool athletic one, mind you). Because if this right posterior cerebral artery brain aneurysm (that’s what it says on said cool bracelet) does blow, I want medical professionals working on me to know and to check that first (I learned this from grey’s anatomy when dereck died. He knew what was wrong but no one else did! He DIED. See, TV is useful.)

So, this is my long drawn out reflection of year 32. Thanking the good Lord for the gift of L, if not for her, this year would have been tainted with awful medical scare memories and thoughts of dying.

But, year 33, please be good to me. Be good to my family, me, and the people I love. (This is me praying, pleading to God, really.) Because truth is, I’m tired. Exhausted. So, let’s pray together that nothing extraordinary happens this year – except that I finish Ironman Wisconsin in less than 17 hours. (Shameless plug, donate here:  http://www.teamworldvision.org/participant/awightman and provide clean water for people – because water is life.)

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Because no post is a good post without a photo of these two loves. Here we are, breathing new life in the everyday life…in San Francisco.