Answer #1

I am in awe of the incredible support and love already being poured out to me and my family after sharing about my health junk. There is this recurring feeling that so much goodness is in store. 

I am overwhelmed with gratitude to report the first huge answer to prayer! There has been a cancellation in the surgery schedule which has been offered to me for 03.17.2021. That is NEXT WEEK! It is also the 3rd anniversary in which Jack and I got married in the church. What a relief as the anxiety has gotten the best of me in many ways, along with the pain and sleepless nights. The scheduler said it had been a really busy morning but she felt that I needed to be the one to take the date. Through my tears, she knew it was the right call. Answered prayer. 

There is so much more in store. And we now pray that the surgery is a success with absolutely no evidence of disease. I look forward to sharing all of the ways that God is (and has been) orchestrating such amazing details. 

But for now, I am saying a prayer of thanks. A prayer of thanks to and for all of you as well as for the God of details managing every step of the way.

Can't wait to celebrate on the other side!

Not Done Yet.

Celebrating my 14th cancerversary a few weeks back felt incredible as I have had so many great years of health and God's promises since that dreaded day back in January 2007. Ironically, it was right around that date this last January that I started to not feel well. I chalked it up to pandemic life and that I was feeling the weight of the worldly stuff leaning in on me. But the nagging voice continued. I needed answers as to why I was not feeling whole, especially since I had started the year with health and wellness in mind. 

After countless tests and so many medical appointments, all was showing within normal ranges, yet I have felt far from normal. And this last week, my gynecologist ran the blood work again, showing there was a small spike in my CA-125 (my ovarian cancer marker) from the previous test a few weeks back. My number had gone from 18 to 30. Though the spike still showed within normal range, I continued to advocate for myself with my doctors that something was off. Thankfully I have had great medical care and support from my health team along the way. I was sure hoping my instincts we wrong, but I am glad that my worries have been validated by the discovery of what looks to be two cysts on my remaining right ovary in addition to fibroids I already knew I had. 

The oncologist feels the best course of action is a full hysterectomy. We will now await a surgery date and with confidence, we believe that the results will show these are only cysts, with everything contained and easy to remove. We pray that God is using this another as a testament of His mercy and His healing so that I can be the best mom and wife (daughter, sister, friend, etc.) for many more years to come. 

I don't consider it a coincidence that Thomas woke in the middle of the night last night, which these days is a rarity. When I went in to check on him, he was crying asking me to hold him and rock him. I covered us both in his "dirt-dirt" (blanket) and rocked him to sleep. Best hour of my life as I held him close. It is that feeling of peace I pray continues in this next chapter. It is the same way I now approach God as I want Him to hold me close assuring me that all will be ok as I find refuge in His arms. I am beyond grateful that I get to be a mom to Thomas. He is and always be the most treasured gift in my life (along with Jack). I pray for so many more nights that we get to snuggle close. 

At this point, all of the love and prayers are greatly appreciated as we navigate next steps. We also ask that you trust with us that God is at work and that we will get the best news at the conclusion of the surgery. I will use the blog here to keep everyone updated so that we can streamline communication for the time being, but please feel free to text or call which I will answer as I can. Again, we move forward with great hope and confidence that all will be well. 

With love, peace, and hope and so much life ahead. 

.ellen.

The Ultimate Jitterbug.

Gran. Her name is actually Martha Goodsell, but everyone called her Gran. And for those that knew my Gran, know that she took great pride in calling herself a jitterbug. She would shake her fanny and wave her finger singing "Doot doot doot." Her life motto was to never let the grass grow beneath her feet. Safe to say that in her 80 some years of life, that was truly the case. She walked 3 miles everyday (even after a serious accident in which she was struck by a car). She was always riding her bike all over town to deliver the church bulletin and some flowers to those that were sick or living alone. Gran had this heart of gold making everyone around her feel like a treasure. 

It was one of the greatest gifts of my life to live by her and Poppa. They were such fixtures in our daily lives, that I often yearn for those days we could run through the gate to the back door to see what treats she had on the kitchen table or what pies had been baked that day. Gran's sweet tooth ran deeeeeep. She always had the good stuff. 

It is a rare gem to find people like Gran. Her heart was always for others. She spent countless hours on the phone for the church prayer chain. She was always making some kind of pom pom bear or craft for the church bizarre (basically a craft fair). Gran (and Poppa) made Sunday dinners feel like an experience. She had this knack for being able to create this safe space of love with an ear quick to listen. Gran was always at every event from our school concerts, sports events, art shows, you name it. She was there with bells on (or so it seemed). 

Throughout high school and college, Gran was also notorious for slipping me a bit of "coke money." She always had a stash of cash in her china cabinet tea cups. Whenever I had a bad day and was telling her about it at her dining room table where she often sat (the same dining table I now have and spend countless hours with my own family and now serves as my remote office), the conversation would end with her sweet words and a bit of coke money. She was always telling me to go buy a soda or a sweet treat. When I would tell her that sodas didn't cost $20, she would tell me to buy a few or to buy one for a friend. That was Gran to her core. Always looking for ways to make me (and countless others) smile. 

When I was living on campus during college, Gran would call my dorm room often, She would leave these messages saying it was Gran (as if I would forget) and that she loved me. If my roommate answered, she would tell them the same. I must admit that I often took those calls for granted. Looking back, I am amazed at her constant dedication to make those calls so often. And that I was always on her mind. What a gift not only to me but also to my roommates who still recall those calls with Gran. 

As I get older, I find myself striving to be more like her. I am nowhere close. She set the bar so high but one worthy of trying to reach. I want a faith like Gran. I want to have the same heart for others. Her unwavering sense of spirit, witty humor and pizazz for life are definitely an inspiration. 

I hope someday I can be Gran to my grandchildren. I hope that I can share the contagious zest for life that she had on the ready. I hope that I can look fear in the face and keep going as she so often did. We all need a bit of Gran. Grab an extra dessert. Send a friend some coke (or coffee) money just because. Or better yet, go share that treat with them and remind them how much they are truly loved in (and out of) this world. 

Queen Stella.

Stella von Daisy 

October 20, 2005 - June 5, 2020

Stella and I were together just shy of 14 years. When she jumped in my arms, fresh from my second surgery, she was about 15 more pounds than I was expecting and cream. I was expecting a tiny black dog ready to be named Oprah. A woman I had never met made the selfless decision to place Stella with me as she was in her dying days wanting her newly acquired shelter dog to have a forever owner.  When I brought this overgrown hair ball home, the hair of Jude, my roommate's dog was standing on end. I had no idea what it would mean to become the owner of this dog named Daisy. She would not be satisfied being my pet, nor did I want to be her owner. We instantly became family. After rebranding her as Stella von Daisy, she has by far been one of my life's greatest gifts. When I play the highlight reel from the last decade plus, she often takes centerstage.

Together, Stella and I have walked through my ovarian cancer diagnosis and recovery journey, endured a many heartaches, heartbreaks, lots of addresses, and everything in between. She was the source of my joy in her faithful friendship with her endless snuggles, kisses, snoring, and bed hogging. We walked many miles together, took our fair share of road trips, dodged a few shady characters, and through it all, she graciously embraced my countless photo shoots with props and costumes. With the many changes life brought this way in the last several years, she was the one constant.

Stella and I were far more connected than words can ever explain. She sensed when things were amiss and what she lacked in words, she communicated through love and loyalty. Dogs are so in tune that they can sense a drop of blood in a swimming pool of water. Pretty sure Stella always knew what I needed. 

It also became quickly apparent that Stella also took up residence in the hearts of Jack and Thomas. She showed them the same love and devotion, knowing we all were part of our own little family. 

Stella's photos still take up some serious rent in my phone, but more importantly my heart. This dog invaded every nook and cranny of life. She was my therapy dog. My best friend. My navigator. My filter. My sounding board. My counterpart. My joy. My life. My baby. 

I am thankful for all that Stella represented in my life and for all of the wonderful years we had together. I am also grateful for the many things I learned through her. Stella will always be the queen of my world, but she now reigns from the castle in the sky. 

Where Are The Bodies Buried?

Do you have those friends that know where the bodies are buried? Of course I don't mean that literally, but who knows all of the tea in your life? I am not talking about the "What do you want to be when you grow up?" kind of conversations. I am talking about the hard stuff. Like "Do you want to be buried or cremated?" and "Who will be guardian of your kids should something happen?" Are you having those hard conversations with anyone? They are uncomfortable, awkward, and often painful, but they need to be had. 

I have had these conversations a lot more recently. There were (and are) a lot of tears. It has been painful, but surprisingly, somewhat therapeutic. It becomes less awkward as we talk and it spurs on all kinds of interesting things to be learned from each other. It is almost like we should have parties at each others' houses to say this is where I keep the checkbook, this is where the passwords are, and this is what  I want when _______ (you fill in the blank). 

It is also a reminder that there is so much value to living in community. As we have all been living in such isolation for the year, that community has become fragmented and distanced. I am guilty of it for sure. I get lost in the land of plastic toys and bubble machines in our backyard, trying to get through the day without worrying if one of us contracted COVID-19 and what our jobs will look like tomorrow. I have been guilty of not leaving voicemails. Preferring a text over a phone call. And email over Zoom. But I have been stopped in my tracks. I am making the phone calls to say the things I mean. I am writing the longer messages to tell people that they are on my heart and mind. I am asking people to come help us care for our son so that we are not always walking in that alone. There is such beauty in the fellowship and also such release from all of the pressures being able to share in those precious moments of life. The other night I asked my mother-in-law and sister-in-law to come help me with Thomas' dinner and night routine. It turned out to be a memory forever etched in my brain as we sat in his room and sang songs. He loved the audience and I loved that he was able to see that there are so many people caring for him and loving him. 

So many times I have found myself saying we need to pause and say what is on our hearts. We need to share where the "bodies are buried." Life is hard enough that we shouldn't be walking it alone. 

Pulling Weeds.

Growing up, we lived one house away from my grandparents. What a gift to my sister and I (and probably to my grandparents too). Every day from kindergarten to my senior year, I went to their house for breakfast every single day. We had assigned days for the menu, Mondays and Wednesdays were for my choice of cereal, Tuesdays and Thursdays were eggs any style and Fridays were for French toast. One thing to note was that my Poppa also fresh squeezed orange juice for me every morning. If you have ever squeezed oranges by hand, you will know that this is a true labor of love. It takes a lot of time and also energy. And yet, every morning, my fresh squeezed juice was waiting. 

There are a lot of memories I have with my grandparents - too many to ever put into words. An incredibly vivid memory of Gran and Pops was their yard. They had a fairly good sized yard by Southern California standards and every inch had been touched by their hands, whether it was my Gran's roses and sweet pea garden or the countless hand laid bricks by my Poppa. He also had a pretty incredible greenhouse which was always fun for hide and seek. 

Poppa's cactus flower

Since we spent so much time at their house, we often found my Poppa out in the yard picking weeds. I used to think it was so cool because he had these little special hand tools for the tough ones, but he mostly used his leathered hands to pull them out. One thing I remember distinctly was the importance of pulling the weeds by the roots to make sure that you pulled it out completely. Without the root, you were just scratching the surface and the weed would grow right back. 

I have been pulling weeds with Thomas in our backyard and these memories of my Poppa come flooding back. Thomas loves to throw all of the weeds into the trash. He is incredibly helpful. But I find myself passing on Poppa's wisdom about getting the weeds at the roots. I am not sure Thomas understands just yet, but I hope to keep finding ways for him to recall these kinds of life lessons. 

What a metaphor for life. We have to get at the root of everything and with all that our world has faced in recent months, we have a lot to root out. But also to continue the work, one root at a time. It is not a job we can just mow right over. It is slow and painstaking, but worth it because you want the grass to grow and thrive. 

Keep pulling the weeds. Get at the root. And teach others to help you. It is better when the work is done together.

Motherhood.

When I was younger and people asked me about my life, I sketched out that I would be married by the 
time I was 22, probably teaching and driving a Volvo of some sort with 3-ish kids in tow. They say that if you want to see God laugh, you should tell Him your plans. I guess I make God laugh a lot because of all those dreams, the only thing to ring true was that I was a teacher, but even that has changed. I did not marry my high school sweetheart as I planned. Instead, I would endure a number of relationships, many of which were unhealthy and toxic to my goals and dreams. It wasn't until I was almost 39 that I became a wife to the man I viewed as my last attempt at online dating. Turns out he was one of the good guys. Pretty thankful I didn't give up looking before he crossed my phone screen.

And though I do not have 3-ish kids thanks to a cancer diagnosis and a completely altered plan, I was a dog mama to the most precious fur baby of all for 13+ years and after I turned 40, I finally held my precious baby boy. Thank you God for modern medicine that helped make him happen. Thomas is truly one of my life's greatest gifts and one of my proudest accomplishments. Not a day goes by that I don't thank God for him. The days are long, and the years are short, but I want to bottle up each memory as a treasure to revisit always. 

It is my goal to always show Thomas (and his dad) just how much I love him, but also how to be the best human he can be. I want to watch him grow, learn, and love life forever. I look forward to the days he starts to make decisions about his future. If he decides to go to college, where will he choose? What career path does he have in mind? Will he get married? Does he have kids? (The thought of hugging my future grandbabies sounds delicious.) Will he travel? Where will he live? Ultimately, any decision he makes, I am his biggest cheerleader. May he always know that he makes his mama proud and that my love for him is endless. 

But there are definitely some things I also want to teach him...

 

1. Love God. First and foremost. If you put God as the center of your life, your every decision, your path will always be made straight. It won't always be easy and the road may be narrow, but trust me, it is the road you want. God is always good. He is always faithful. His ways are higher than our own. And His plan will always be better - it may not always make sense, but trust it. 

2. Be a gentleman. Always. Open doors. Offer your seat, your jacket, a helping hand. It is not because others are weak, but because you value them more and want to be respectful and helpful. 

3. Dream bigger. 

4. Laugh a lot. 

5. Find a partner that honors you, respects you, supports you, and cherishes you. You are a treasure. Reciprocate these things. 

6. Give gifts for no reason. 

7. Speak your mind. Respectfully. 

8. Be spontaneous. Take the road trip. Dive in. Stay up late. Catch the sunset or the sunrise. 

9. Be memorable in the best way possible. 

10. Call your mom (and dad). Often. 

11. Say "I love you." Mean it. 

12. Lead with integrity. Never expect someone to do something you won't do so work harder and smarter, but don't let work be the reason you miss the important stuff.

13. Rise above the challenges. 

14. Know your worth. 

15. Wear sunscreen. 

16. Have a strong handshake but also a big hug ready when needed. 

17. Remember it is ok to cry. 

18. Never stop reading, including your Bible. 

19. Watch "Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium." It is one of my all-time favorites. And remember, before you reach your final act, that your life is an occasion. Rise to it. 

19. Always hug your mama. 

I love you infinity, Thomas. Mama has a lot more things to share with you, but for now, this will do. 

Mamas, hugs your babies tight tonight. Thank God for these precious gifts. And those of you that aren't mamas, but hope to be, I see you. I know the ache in the waiting. God's plans are always better. Always.