You know what...

My birthday is two days away. I will be 28.
So, for whatever reason... not that it has anything to do with my birthday... not that it has anything to do with anything... just for the sake of writing because I feel like writing...

Jessica Ann Milligan was born on February 17, 1985.
She got married August 15, 2003. Now, she is Jessica Ann Hembree.

I am a Christian.
My fave movie EVER is The Princess Bride and my fave song is Storybook Love.
I am a book worm.
I love music.
I am a foodie and will try anything at least once - unless it is peanuts or legumes, which are beans and peas. I have a food intolerance to those. My mouth itches, my chest feels tight, I get horrible stomach cramps - it won't kill me, just make me feel horrible. I especially love coffee, chocolate, Coke, sushi, fresh fruits and veggies, seafood, and pasta.
My fave colors are blue, green, and brown...

the color of the Montana sky on a clear summer morning...

the color of a clear mountain pool...

the color of sapphires and of turquoise...

the bright blue of my daughter's eyes and the steel blue of my oldest son's eyes...

the color of a spring meadow...

the color of leaves and moss...

the color of jade...

the color of my hubby's eyes...

the color of coffee and chocolate...

the color of earth and trees...

the color of my youngest son's eyes...

the color of my dog's fur...

I spent most of my life growing up in the country, and while I love dressing up and being close to town, I am still a country girl at heart. I long for a little country house on some land with dogs and horses. I love my boots and I want a hat to go with them. I've watched calves being born. I used to rope and ride.
I miss the mountains.
I have a little boy sleeping in my lap.
My family comes first. My hubby and kids mean the world to me and I give all I can to take care of them. While we may have our moments, I wouldn't change it for the world.
I am an artist. I draw, paint, write, sew, bead, craft, and do photography. It is an amazing thing to be an artist. I take a material, a basic item, a simple subject - and I have the ability to change it, mold it, adjust by adding or removing from it until I have created something amazing, beautiful, different - full of emotion, feeling, power, and story...
I give. I don't have much materialistically, but I give what I can. I love helping people and being there for those who just need a little blessing. If I can make something or say something or give something and know that it helped, I am blessed.
I love animals. Big dogs, horses, and wild cats most of all. I have a phobia of snakes.
I am also afraid of heights.
I love vintage clothing and jewelry.
I love scarves and toe socks.
I have a fondness for different flavors of chap stick.
If I could be a Disney Princess, I would be Belle.
I love party planning - from decor to food to hosting...
I don't think anyone reads my blog, but I write anyhow.
I need a nap.
I am done writing for today.

Music... and why I cannot bring myself to sing in front of people

I love music. I remember music always being in the background of my life. My mom played records while she cleaned the house. I sang in choir from Kindergarten through graduating high school. I've been in church choirs. I've studied music from other cultures. I took music lessons and voice lessons in high school. I almost always have music playing at home. If I know the words to a song, chances are I will sing along... unless someone else in around...
As much as I love music... as much as it is a part of my life... I have a hard time singing solo when people can hear me...

Why?

I am really self-conscious. Crazily so.

When I entered high school, I weighed 180 and was 5ft 5 inches. I was a nerd. I was an outcast. I was scarred from years of mental and emotional abuse. I was a mess.

Then, I decided to change. I didn't want to be that person anymore...

I worked out, a lot. I reached out more. I lost 50 pounds. I had new friends. I had new hobbies. I was working to overcome my past. I was a new person...
I was still a nerd. I was still an oddball, but people liked me for who I was now. And I liked myself, finally...

I was always in choir. Surrounded by other people, all of us singing, I had no problem. Then, a friend of mine (who was also in the choir) asked me to audition for the school musical with her. I figured it couldn't hurt. We both tried out. She didn't get a part, but I was placed on the make-up crew backstage. It was one of the most amazing experiences I had ever had. The spirit, the camaraderie, the fun, the learning experience... It was all amazing.
The next year, I started drama. I loved my drama classes. I loved the new friends. I LOVED the experience of being on stage.
On stage I wasn't Jessica Milligan. I wasn't this broken high school student trying to deal with the reality of my crazy family life. I could be anyone, anywhere, doing anything.

Over the years, things change... Thankfully, I am not the same person. I'm not in the same situations anymore. I don't have to hide who I am.
But, as I said, I am not the same person. Somewhere through the years, I lost my confidence. I'm not happy with how I look. I don't have a huge group of supportive friends. I don't express myself in the quirky little ways that I used to.
I kind of melted into this wife-mom blob. I hid a lot of myself to try and fit in and I lost those parts somewhere. I started second guessing everything that I do... I am tired of it... I've started on a journey to find me again. The little things that make me who I am. The quirky little things that set me apart.

It's dawned on me that some people love me for who I am, quirks and all. Some people will never like me, whether I hide the quirks or not. I need to be who I am. I don't have a huge group of friends here anyhow, so letting the real me out probably won't affect the ones I do have. They already know I am crazy. LOL...

I'm doing it for myself. Just to make me happy. There is a part of me that hopes that my confidence will return. A part of me that hopes I can share music again, without worrying what other people think about me. Part of me that just doesn't care what people think anymore.

I need to be me again. I know that I can be a better wife, a better mom, a better friend if I know who I am and I like who I am.

So. Here is to being myself... and hopefully, to singing again...

I'm Crazy... but it's okay

In 2010, we agreed to try for baby #3 and this happened...

There is something a lot of people don't know about all of that and it has been hard for me to share with anyone because - well, to be honest - it sounds crazy...

In April of 2010, I had a ton of dreams that we were going to have twins. My waking moments were filled with the feeling that I needed to prepare for twins. It felt crazy. I asked my aunt about it...

She told me that God had told my husband's mother that my father-in-law was going to marry her. She trusted in it. She prepared for a wedding. Then, she waited. He did ask. She was ready. They got married.

I wasn't sure what to do. I wasn't pregnant yet. Although twins run on my mother's side of the family, what were the chances?

When I got sick in June, the dreams and the feelings stopped. I still didn't know what was going on until later...

When I explained my physical symptoms to the doctor, she told me that implantation spotting is common and can even be significant, especially with the presence of more than one baby... I waited. I prayed that we hadn't lost the pregnancy - one baby or two. It was too late. They ran blood tests and said my hormone levels were very high. I was most likely 10 weeks along or that there may or may not have been more than one, but that there was no way to really tell at that point.

It was hard enough to deal with the miscarriage, so I pushed the thought of twins from my mind.

When I got pregnant again, people joked about twins - and at times, I longed for it... but I always felt like it wasn't going to happen. I knew it would be just one.

I told a few people about some dreams I had at the very beginning of the pregnancy, but not many...

In my dreams, I saw two boys. One fair skinned, with light hair like Ayla and green eyes like Bryan. The other boy was more olive skinned like myself, with brown hair and brown eyes. Twins, but both so different. They were playing in our house and then they ran outside to play... they just ran off... all I could see was their little faces and watching them leave... part of my heart broke.

Once we found out the new baby was a boy, we struggled with a name. We had already picked 2 boys names, but neither seemed right any more. We decided to name the new baby Caleb.

Inside myself, I knew why we couldn't use those other two names. They belonged to the twins. Fair-haired Nathaniel Owen, and dark-eyed Levi Jackson. I saw them smiling in my dreams.

How do you tell people that the miscarriage you had was twins when there is no proof? How do you tell people that you know it would have been two boys and you know what they would have looked like? How do you name children that you never had?

And every time someone would joke about me having twins, I would smile and maybe even laugh - but my heart would twinge.

I know it's crazy, but I know God has blessed me. I know I am crazy. I am sure there will be all kinds of talk about this post and crazy Jessica... but I am just as sure of this as any other Word that God has given to me. I expect people to think I'm crazy, so I finally share this with - well, whoever actually reads this blog...

Believe it... or don't... think that I'm crazy... Or don't... I really only wrote this for myself...

And Nathan and Levi.

Almost dying... and miracles

"It's a miracle that the damage isn't more significant..."

 

"It's a miracle that you made it through that."

 

"It's a miracle that you don't have permanent damage..."

 

"I've been here for years and never seen it that severe. It's a miracle that you made it here before it got worse."

 

"It's a miracle that you're here."

"I've never seen this happen before..."

 

I'm a miracle.

It is still hard for me to think about it.

 

Caleb's pregnancy was difficult. His delivery had issues. Been there and done that. LOL! I didn't have much of an issue accepting these two things. I had problems with Ayla and Zach's deliveries also. Then, it all changed. This time it was different. They sent me home really soon. I still hurt so much. I was still so swollen. They told me it was normal and to give it time. We did. It got worse. I couldn't sleep or move because of the pain. I felt miserable. I couldn't even hold Caleb and had to stop breastfeeding because the pain was just too much.

 

He was just days old and I couldn't even hold him. I couldn't think through the pain. The doctors just kept saying "try this", "take the pain meds and rest", "give it time, it will get better". Then, I pretty much became delirious. Bryan took me to the ER.

 

I remember being at home and feeling like I was going to die. I was scared. I remember arriving at the hospital and going into triage...

 

Then, I remember being in my hospital room. The room I ended up spending 6 days in. 6 days away from my husband, brand new baby, and two other children.

 

I learned from Bryan, the nurses, and the doctors what had happened...

 

Somewhere along the line - between delivering Caleb and ended up back at the hospital - I developed a blockage in my urinary system. I had over 8 liters of fluid backed up in my body. I had acute kidney failure and a severe urinary infection. The toxins in my system could have killed me. The infection was serious enough to have caused permanent damage. My bladder had stretched like a water balloon and might never return to normal. I was seriously anemic from the delivery.

 

They treated me with anti-biotics and pain meds. After a couple days, I was better, but not enough... I had 4 different doctors. 3 told me to go home, but one said not yet. The doctor ordered some tests and discovered that the treatment had caused an imbalance in my system that led to a severe intestinal infection called C-Diff. I had to stay and be treated for it because it was severe and contagious. They finally got me well enough to be released.

 

I had missed a week of my new baby's life. My two older children were cared for by Bryan's family. Bryan stepped up and took care of Caleb - He already had his mommy taken away. He needed his daddy. My husband did what few men would. He could have said it was too much, too hard, and had someone else take care of him. He stepped up. He grew so close to Caleb, which I didn't expect after Bryan not wanting a 3rd baby. He was a different man when I came home. Of course, my almost dying might have had something to do with it, but that's okay...

 

Ayla and Zach were both very happy to be back home, not spending the night with family. They were glad to see me again. I can only imagine what that week was like for them... After 8 months, Ayla still won't go anywhere without me... It's hard for me to think of what might be going through her mind...

 

I spent the next few months struggling with my health. There were a lot of doctor's visits and testing and lab results. Time after time, they said it was amazing. Doctors, who don't use the 'M' word lightly, were telling me it was a miracle that I was here and relatively healthy. The infections threw off my system, which is still a little shaky, but I am getting better. I get sick pretty easy, but nothing that soap, had sanitizer, and vitamins can't help. I finally healed from the actual delivery. I gained a lot of weight that I need to lose. I have some continued stomach sensitivity and have to watch what I eat so I don't end up in pain. I get headaches more often. I also got this pain in my left shoulder (like a knot under my shoulder blade). It flares up and causes the inside of my elbow and my wrist to hurt (a lot). We aren't sure if it's a nerve problem or just over use from caring for the house and kids. Since Bryan is earning so little, after being unemployed 2 months, I haven't been back to a doctor since the end of July.

 

I know God healed me. I might still feel pains and have problems, but it's just because my body hasn't manifested the completed healing yet. It might be tonight, or tomorrow, or a year from now... One day, I won't be sick. I won't have pains. I'll feel wonderful. I'm just walking toward that day.

 

If medical science says I could have died, but I am still here - It's God.

 

If doctors can say I should have permanent damage, but don't - It's God.

 

If the world can say it's a miracle... that I am a miracle... I say it's God.

 

And if God spared me, and if God healed me, He must have a reason... Maybe it was just to bring Bryan closer to the kids. Maybe it was to bring us all closer as a family. Maybe it was to bring us all closer to him... I don't know. I might never know. I do know one thing...

 

I have been blessed beyond measure and I have been given the chance to enjoy those blessings and I want to try harder every day to give the glory to God and to rejoice and enjoy those blessings.

 

In the past few weeks, Satan has plagued me with dreams of things from my past. He has forced me to rethink certain events in my life and my reaction to them. While I faced these personal trials, Bryan and I have been dealing with other trials - health, finances, not being able to spend time together just the two of us, plans falling through, children growing up - life.

 

I sat and thought about the lingering pain... about not being able to connect with people and feeling like I didn't have many friends... about not 'fitting in'... about not feeling like a good wife because of my condition... about never being able to stay above the water... about never having time for myself... about all the problems, about all the pain, about all the past hurts...

 

And then God spoke.

Instead of looking at the problems, look at where you were. Look at how far you've come. Look at the blessings you already have. The darkest time comes before the dawn. The toughest trials bring the sweetest blessings. The heat and pressure bring forth the diamond.

 

Sunday at church, God spoke of Philip - He looked at the 5000 men (plus women and children) and said it would cost so much to feed them, too much, they had nothing to buy food with... At the same time, Andrew looked around and said LORD, there is a boy with bread and fish... A little boy's lunch... but in God's hands that lunch fed them all till they were full and there were baskets left over...

 

My Philip said there was still pain, not enough money, not enough time, too much stress, too much squabbling, too many problems...

 

My Andrew says - I have a wonderful, loving, supportive little family. I have folks out there who are praying for me and always there when I really need them. We have food, shelter, clothing, transportation, hubby has a job, we are healthy...

 

The day WILL come when our desires become reality because God can take our 'little lunch' and perform a miracle...

 

In the meantime, I'm going to praise Him for it all. I'm going to share what I do have with those around me. I will work and walk toward the dreams of my heart and trust in HIS promises...

And when the kids fight, or the gas tank runs low, or the pain creeps in, or Bryan and I have an intense moment - I will praise HIM. Because every time... EVERY TIME... God shows us the way through and things are better than before... I know even better things are on the way and everyday I will do my best to praise Him for His work in my life...