Happy Thanksgiving

The day is almost over, but I was able to snatch a few minutes to write a post.  It would be a shame to have spent a whole month on gratitude and yet not write an entry on the very day of Thanskgiving.

Last Thanksgiving, I was still recovering from a week in the hospital and grappling with my new ulcerative colitis diagnosis. Having been sicker than I had ever been in my life, I was filled with gratitude to simply be alive. This is not to say that I truly felt I was going to die when I was in the hospital, but there may have been a few points where I thought death may have been preferable. But the Lord, in His mercy, saw fit to bring me through that time, and even now I cannot think of that time without being overwhelmed with thankfulness that my life, while completely changed by my diagnosis, is still my life, and it is in the ever-capable, ever-trustworthy hands of God.

Today, I am thankful that I am healthier now than I was a year ago. I am thankful that I have not seen the inside of a hospital all year. I am thankful that I have wonderful health insurance. I am thankful that I got to spend the day with my amazing husband, precious daughter, and wonderful in-laws. I am thankful that I live in a country where I am free to worship Jesus, free to speak and sing His praises whenever I desire. I am free to read His Word and have free access to it. I do not have to live in fear of persecution.

I lead a truly blessed life, and I pray that on days that I feel discontent or wish for something more that I would remember all that God has given and stop and dwell on the goodness of the Lord.

Happy Thanksgiving, friends. May you know the peace and love of Christ.

Day 25: Taking a Shot at Health

(Yes, I skipped days 23 and 24. Yes, I know I'm lame.)

Today I am thankful for something that I never thought would be a part of my life: a weekly injection. Humira, which is an injectable drug, has been my companion for going on a year (I can't even believe that). While it took a really long time to work, it does finally seem to be working, and I am so thankful for how it has given me back my health.

I hate having to give myself a shot once a week because it hurts every time, but if that is what it takes to feel better, then that is what I will do. My doctor told me at my last checkup that I could go back to taking the Humira every other week, which is the typical dosage. I haven't done that yet though, mainly because I am afraid of what will happen if I do. Because it did take so long for me to feel good, I am hesitant to change anything.

The first time I had to get the shot, I went to my doctor's office so the nurse could train me. The first dose is a "loading dose," so I had to do 4 shots that time, and I remember crying my eyes out because it hurt so much and because I couldn't believe this would be my life now. When I reflect on that time now, I am encouraged because God has brought me a long way and what once was so traumatic has become routine.

I don't know how long Humira will work, but I will be grateful for it as long as it does.

The More Things Change...

If you've read even a few posts on my blog over the past year, then you know that I have been through my share of changes, the biggest of which is obviously my ulcerative colitis diagnosis. Beyond dealing with that diagnosis, the only other change that occupies much of my thoughts is my weight (I know, you're all shocked). But truly, my weight has gone up and down in truly astounding fashion. I decided to check my blog and see what I weighed around this time last year, and fortunately I found that I had actually recorded my weight for this exact date. On August 12, 2012, I weighed 178.6. Do you know what I weighed this morning? 179.6. That's one pound higher than this day last year, and a whopping TWELVE pounds higher than my weight at the beginning of this year. I managed to get down to 170.8 in the beginning of October 2012, and not long after that I got sick. I actually didn't lose a whole lot of weight when I first got sick, but when I got home from the hospital, the weight came off at an alarming rate (about 10 pounds in two days, then 5 or so more after that). At one point, the scale was down to 150. I knew that wouldn't stay, and I didn't expect it to, so when I managed to stay between 155 and 158 for about a month, I was happy. I hoped that even though I lost all of that weight because my body was sick, I could maintain the loss. I even wrote about how losing weight wouldn't be one of my goals for the new year for the first time in ages. I was filled with excitement and optimism! 

Taken in November on my first Sunday back to church. 150 pounds

Silly, silly me.

By the middle of January, five years into my weight loss journey, I was back up to 167.6. To be fair, I was on a TON of medication (including prednisone), and I do think that it wreaked havoc with my body in lots of not-so-great ways, but I can't blame it all on the medicine. If it were solely the medicine causing the problem, when I went off the prednisone in March all of my weight gain should have stopped. But it didn't, and now I find myself at a weight that makes me anything but comfortable, a weight that is almost exactly what it was at this time last year. If nothing else is consistent, at least I am consistent about gaining weight, right?

"But Erin," you say, "You had goals, you had a reward system! What happened?" In a nutshell, fatigue happened. Depression happened. Laziness happened. Honestly, this has been a HARD nine months, and the struggles manifested themselves in my eating habits. Even now, when at times I feel like I can't eat ANYTHING, I still overeat. I still eat junk. All of that eating combined with virtually no exercise due to severe fatigue is a recipe for failure.

So I find myself coming back to the brink of 180 pounds all over again, and I want it to be the last time, but part of me feels helpless. I don't know if making a plan will help. I've made plans, lots of them, and in the end they meant nothing.

The truth is, I don't need another plan. I need freedom from this bondage.

"It is for freedom that Christ has set you free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." ~Galatians 5:1

On the Mend

Well, hello there.

I'll be honest: I hadn't planned on coming back to this blog. Sometime after my last post I decided I was weary of blogging and thought I would stop blogging and just focus on enjoying life and getting better, without having to worry about what my next post would be about. The time away has been good. I haven't thought much about the blog (and I am sure you haven't either), but I have started to miss it. I have started to think about posts in my head, have started planning what I might say. So I'm coming back, somewhat tentatively. And of course this isn't the first time I've stepped away only to return later, so I'm sure no one is surprised by any of this.

The good news (and I mean really fantastic, wonderful, awesome news) is that I am finally starting to feel better! I went to see a GI at Vanderbilt back in June (after waiting 2 months for the appointment), and while there I got some dietary recommendations and some treatment recommendations. I have been limiting my dairy intake and also limiting my fiber intake, and while both have required some pretty significant mental and logistical adjustments, the changes seem to be helping. I have not completely eliminated all dairy, but I am not having it with every meal like I used to, nor am I even having dairy every day. I REALLY miss ice cream, but if my body can heal better without ice cream, then so be it. The doctor also recommended that I get another colonoscopy (so we could have a better idea of the current state of my colon) and then make some medication changes. It took several weeks to actually get the colonoscopy scheduled, so it was July 18 before that happened. All the trips I had to take to the bathroom on the day that I had to do the prep had me flashing back to late October/early November when I was at my sickest. It made me realize how far I really have come since then, and I am SO thankful.

After the colonoscopy, my doctor said that my colon looks a lot better than it did previously. Whereas before he would have categorized my disease as moderate-to-severe, now it is only mild. And THEN, when I got the results of the biopsies that he took, I found out that the biopsies showed no evidence of active disease! Remission, here I come! Because of the progress I have made, for now I am sticking with the Humira (and those dreaded weekly shots) and adding in one other medication, Imuran.

The one nagging problem I have is fatigue. I am tired all.the.time. I can sleep for eight hours and yet feel like I could take a nap at any given time (and on the weekends I almost always do). Some days I feel as though it is a monumental chore just to drag my body through the day. I am very deficient in iron, vitamin D, and B-12, so I think all of that plays into the fatigue issue, and I hope that the supplementation I am doing will help.

All in all, my health is definitely improving, and I am beyond grateful. I wouldn't trade the experience I've had because of how much the Lord has taught me in the process, but I am also very excited to be feeling closer to normal (as normal as I can be, haha).

Recent family pic. Of course Char isn't looking at the camera.

If anyone is still reading this pitiful blog, catch me up on your life! How are you?

Well-Placed Hope: An Ulcerative Colitis Update

I have had a few people ask me how my ulcerative colitis is doing, so I thought I would post an update. I started a new medication called Uceris back in April after coming home in the middle of a work day because I felt so bad. I actually missed 4 days of work in April, the most I have missed in any one month this year. That first day I went home sick, I called my GI doctor and told him that I still was not doing much better even after increasing my Humira injections to once a week instead of once every other week, so he prescribed the Uceris. Uceris is a steroid that is released directly into the colon and therefore has fewer side effects than prednisone, which I hated taking. I have been very pleased with the lack of side effects while I've been on Uceris, but I am also not sure it's helping me too much either. I have had a few better days this month, but I've also still had some really difficult days. Along with prescribing the Uceris, my doctor also referred me to the IBD Clinic at Vanderbilt, and the only downside to this is the fact that my appointment is not until June 26!

What I am struggling with right now is not knowing exactly what is normal and not normal with this disease. Maybe how I am now is as good as it gets. The thing is, while my disease is definitely more tolerable than it was when I was first diagnosed, it's still no fun whatsoever. I still have diarrhea on a daily basis (I know, ew, but it is what it is), and sometimes I still can't even sleep through the night because I have to get up and go to the bathroom. I get uncomfortable stomach cramps, and sometimes I have terrible abdominal pain off and on all day. I am tired all the time, and I can't run like I used to. Even just a 2 mile run I did recently had me heading to the bathroom not long afterwards, and that is depressing to me. Running is one of the ways that I relieve stress, but now I am anxious about how my body will respond if I go running, so I haven't run very much.

I have thought in the past, based on what I've read and heard, that if I found the right medication, I would go into remission and not have any symptoms of my UC.  Obviously I'm not there yet. And after having lived with a diagnosis for 6 months while still not being in remission, I am definitely ready to get there. But what if remission in fact isn't a complete removal of symptoms, only a lessening of them?

As I shared with a friend recently, I am weary. Weary of waiting on medicines to work, weary of not feeling like myself, weary of having to always be conscious of where a bathroom is. What I dream of is a week, or even a day, when I can forget that I even have ulcerative colitis. Is that possible? I really, really hope so.

And that's the thing: because of the Lord, I still have hope. I have hope that even though I may never see complete relief in this life, one day I will be with Jesus, and there will be no more disease, no more tears, no more pain. I will bow before my Savior and be with Him forever. Nothing gives me hope like knowing that I will get to leave all of this behind and just soak in His presence.  I am grateful to God for my ulcerative colitis if for no other reason than I long for heaven like I never did before. I also have a deeper appreciation for the empathy that Christ feels for us, and I have seen the body of Christ minister to me in profound ways.

My prayer is that no matter what comes, I would endure it well. Ultimately my hope is in Christ, not in medications or in doctors, and because of the Lord's great love, I am not consumed. For that, I will always be grateful.

Trying to Stay Positive

Yesterday I had one of the best days I've had in a long time in regards to my ulcerative colitis.

Today I woke up with a fever and a sore throat, and after a trip to the doctor, I found out I have strep throat.

You win some, you lose some, right? :)

"So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal." 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

Grasping at Gratitude

Today has not been a good day. It hasn't been a good week, truthfully, which is why I haven't blogged much. I am physically tired, emotionally tired, spiritually tired. I am not feeling the greatest with my ulcerative colitis (and am currently waiting on a callback from my GI doctor about other treatment options), and it's been very tempting for me to throw myself a pity party. In fact, earlier today I started drafting a post in my head about how hard living with ulcerative colitis has been and how I'm an emotional train wreck blah, blah, blah, but I'm not going to write that post now. The truth is, it is hard, but it's not the hardest thing. The way my condition is right now is bearable. I'd love for it to go away. I'd love to be healed, but I can endure how I feel right now. I'm just being a big wimp.

The hardest thing is for me to remain grateful. As I have written before, I am prone to negativity, and if I am not careful, I can easily drown in the cesspool of lies in my head. So the hardest thing for me is to remember that while I have Christ, I have all I need. TRULY, all I need. He is my portion and the strength of my heart forever (Psalm 73:26). He has given me everything I need for life and godliness (1 Peter 1:3). Though I may feel as though my outer self is wasting away (and let's face it, at 170 pounds, I'm not wasting away), He is renewing me day by day (2 Corinthians 4:16).

So, while at times everything in me wants to cry and moan, I can rejoice instead. I can rejoice that the struggle I am facing is temporary. I can rejoice that one day there will be no more sickness, no more death, no more fear, no more sadness. I can rejoice that I have a Heavenly Father who is intimately acquainted with me and my sorrows and joys, for He made me, fearfully and wonderfully (Psalm 139). I can rejoice that Christ suffered more than I can ever imagine so that one day all who love Him will suffer no more. I can rejoice that I do not have to bear my burdens alone but that Jesus invites me to take up HIS burden, which is easy and light (Matthew 11:29). I can rejoice that I have a loving and supporting husband who lets me sob into his shoulder. I can rejoice that I have an understanding boss who lets me leave work in the middle of the day because I just can't stay any longer. I can rejoice that I have friends who pray for me and make me laugh and distract me from the things that are weighing me down.

I don't know what God's plans for me and ulcerative colitis are. I don't know if I will find a medication that will work. I don't know if He will heal me. What I do know is that He loves me and is with me, and I need His presence so much more than I need to be healed. The good news is, He never sleeps and is always available, so I can say with the Psalmist, "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want."

Don't Stay Silent

Disclaimer: This post contains discussion of bodily functions. Don't say you weren't warned. 

I have to confess to you, readers: I'm struggling with this whole I-have-a-chronic-condition thing. When I last wrote about my ulcerative colitis, I was about to start a new medication, an injectable drug called Humira. I have now been giving myself shots every other week for 8 weeks. The first time I had to get the injection, I went into the doctor's office, where two nurses taught me how to give myself the shots. That first round was 4 shots, and it was traumatic. I cried, and I had to take a break between each shot to compose myself. The medicine burns when it is going into my body, and even though I had read about this, I still was shocked by how much it burned. Fortunately, the burning doesn't last long (maybe 10 seconds or so), but that first day I sat in my car afterwards and just sobbed. My stomach was tender from the shots because two injection sites had a slight reaction and became red and irritated (though only temporarily), and I was emotionally spent. The Lord was so good to comfort me, though, and since then I have done fairly well with the shots. They are a routine to me now, something I don't have to think too much about.

What I am struggling with is the fact that the medicine does not seem to be working. I have really noticed no change in my symptoms since starting Humira, and I am feeling very discouraged. I am still taking prednisone and asacol along with the Humira, but the whole point of taking Humira is to get me into remission and off of those other medications. I am so thankful that I am now on the lowest dose of prednisone so the side effects are not nearly as bad as they once were, but in general it's not a good medicine to take long term, and the sooner I can stop taking it, the better. My GI doctor said it can take 6 to 8 weeks for the Humira to start working, and I am at the 8 week mark right now. I go back to the doctor on February 28, so I will see what he says then if the medicine still doesn't seem to be making any difference.

The truth is, I would love to wake up tomorrow and not have any more diarrhea. That is what I pray for. I want to feel normal again, but the truth is I don't know if I will feel normal again. I don't know if this is just a new normal I have to adjust to, if this is as good as it gets. And to be honest, how I am right now is, for the most part, bearable. Though I still have diarrhea 3-5 times a day, I feel ten times better than I did when I was in the hospital, and for that I am grateful. I have an incredibly understanding boss who has been more than supportive, and when I had to miss work on Tuesday because I was up in the night and felt horrible most of the day, he told me to take all the time I needed. The Lord has provided me for me in many ways, and there are still days where I am overwhelmed by His love and His kindness towards me. I have to guard myself against feeling sorry for myself or complaining because I really have been given so much.

The difficult part of this condition is its unpredictable nature. I have developed a good deal of anxiety about being somewhere and needing to use the restroom and not being able to find one. I feel embarrassed when people ask me how I am doing because I don't know how to respond since the truth is I am sick of going to the bathroom so much, and who wants to hear that? I hate the fact that there will be times/have already been times when a family outing is interrupted by the fact that I need to find a bathroom and find it quickly.

I have wrestled with whether or not to write this post. It's not pleasant. It's not something people really talk about. But I have also realized that staying silent doesn't help me. Staying silent makes me feel isolated and alone, and I know I am not. On Tuesday night I shared with a group of women from my church much of what I have been struggling with, and even though I felt slightly humiliated to be talking about something like poop at a prayer meeting, the way they prayed for me and loved me was just what I needed. The peace of Christ came over me as they prayed, and I was reminded anew that this is what the body of Christ is for--to lift up and encourage one another and magnify the Lord together. I wasn't the only woman in that room hurting. I wasn't the only one in need of prayer. We all need prayer, but if we don't open ourselves up to being vulnerable, we miss out on the beauty of community. 

One of the biggest blessings I have seen come out of this whole experience has been the sense of community I have experienced among my church family, and if I had kept quiet about everything going on, I would have missed out on that community.  I had to go through a terrible experience so I could see what was right in front of me all along, but as one woman said before we left that night, "How can we help bear each others' burdens if there are no burdens to bear?" How can we help each other if we don't know the needs?

Suffering is a guarantee in this life, and while we often can't control what happens to us, we can always control our response. We can choose self-pity, or we can do what James 1 urges believers to do and "count it all joy." We can choose isolation, or we can choose community.  We can choose anxiety, or we can choose prayer. I am striving every day to make the right choices, and by God's grace, I will do so. I take comfort daily in the fact that God does not waste my pain, nor does He waste yours. He is using it to mold me into His likeness, to make me like Jesus. I take comfort in the fact that though all my prayers may not be answered in the way that I hope, no prayer is ever wasted. Every prayer brings me before the throne, closer to my Father, and further from my sin. When I feel defeated and tempted to despair, I must remind myself that I do not have a God who is unable to sympathize with my weaknesses. I must remind myself that I have a God who knows me, who knows ALL, and who has never been proven unfaithful. I may stay silent about certain things, but I certainly can't stay silent about THAT.

The New Normal

I have struggled with what to write on here since getting diagnosed with ulcerative colitis. It's not that I don't have anything to say, but more that I don't know how to focus my thoughts. I'm a bit all over the place these days, so the blog may a bit all over the place as well. I haven't been sure of how much I should share about my condition, but let's be real, I've never been one to hold much back on the blog, so I'll probably be chronicling a lot of this new normal that I am still adjusting to.

The good news is, I am feeling much better. Though all of my symptoms have not resolved (and by symptoms I basically mean diarrhea), I have a healthy appetite, and I have more energy. I also have been sleeping a lot better (except for last night) thanks to a new sleeping pill, which is a blessing (the steroid I am taking comes with some delightful side effects, one of which seems to be insomnia). I still feel physically weak and have occasional bouts of dizziness, but I have come a long way from the days where I felt as though I couldn't even get out of the bed. I am hoping to start getting in some light forms of exercise soon, maybe this week if I can find the time. I certainly don't think I'll be running any races any time soon, but I am longing to get back to running. I miss it so much.

Speaking of running, my GI doctor told me at my last appointment that he would advise against me running any more half marathons because it could aggravate my condition. I was very disappointed when he told me this because I had planned to try and run two half marathons, but I can still try and run shorter distances, so that is what I will do. After all, I still have to chase after my goal of getting a sub-30:00 5k time!

Thursday of this week is a big day for me. Since I have a fairly severe case of ulcerative colitis and have not responded to the steroids as well as the doctor would have liked (I should have been off them by now), I am going to be on some medication for the long term. There are two main drugs that my doctor recommended--Remicade and Humira. Remicade is administered through an IV once every 8 weeks, and Humira is a shot that I would give myself every 2 weeks. After researching and praying and talking with the doctor, I've decided to go with Humira. I don't love the idea of giving myself shots, but I do like that I can do it at home and not have to go anywhere. The side effects and risks of both drugs are very similar, and if I do not respond well to the Humira, I imagine the doctor will put me on Remicade next. On Thursday I will go to the doctor and be trained on how to give the injections. The first round is 4 shots, so I am glad that the nurse will be helping me with those because it's kind of daunting to think of doing so many at one time. After 15 days, I will give myself 2 injections, and then every 15 days after that I will only give myself 1 injection. After about a month of this, I should be a pro, right?! The goal of the medication is to put me in remission, and I pray that it happens sooner rather than later, but at this point I don't really know what to expect.


At times I have been overwhelmed when I think about the fact that I will have this condition for the rest of my life, but I have had to stop myself from thinking that way. The truth is, all I am given is today, and that is a gift. I don't have to worry about tomorrow or the next day, or the day after that. God has my life in His ever capable, trustworthy hands, and none of this has come as a surprise to Him. He is using this whole experience to draw me closer to Him, and I can honestly say that the past several weeks have left me feeling more in love with Jesus than ever before. I am so, so grateful for my life.

Through It All, I See His Love

I have no idea how to even begin to explain everything that has happened over the last several weeks, so I thought I would construct a timeline. I want to remember all of it (although I'm pretty sure I will even if I don't write about it). Some of it may be TMI, but I've lost all sense of modesty when it comes to bodily functions. :) The timing of this post is brought to you by Prednisone, which keeps me up at all hours of the night.

October 12: I started to experience diarrhea but didn't feel too bad and managed to run a 5k the next day.
October 16: I was still having diarrhea, but this is the last day I truly felt well. I ran 4 miles that night.
October 18: I started to feel worse--nausea, fatigue, loss of appetite.
October 20: While in Memphis celebrating my upcoming 31st birthday, I ran a fever.
October 21: Made my first trip to convenient care and was told I had a UTI. I still don't know why I didn't argue with that diagnosis, but I have never had a UTI before so I trusted the doctor and took the medicines he gave. He said for me to come back in 2 days if I didn't feel better.
October 23: I was not better at all, so I went back to convenient care. At this point, I experienced abdominal pain every time I walked or even just stood up. I was sent for a CT scan, which showed that my colon was inflamed. I was given 2 different antibiotics to treat the infection (Flagyl and Cipro).
October 24-26: I still felt bad but tried to work and retain some sense of normalcy. At this point Stephen was pretty much handling everything at home.
October 28: I went back to convenient care and felt like I was going to pass out when my name was called. The doctor ordered stool cultures.
October 30: The doctor called and told me I had tested positive for C diff. He increased my dosage of Flagyl and discontinued the Cipro.
October 31: I made it through about 30 minutes at our church's trunk or treat with Charlotte and then felt completely horrible the rest of the evening.
November 1: I established care with a primary care physician, who told me I needed to give the medicine a little more time work.
November 2: I ran fever and got sick to my stomach that night and felt miserable all weekend.
November 4: Charlotte fell and cut her ear, requiring a trip to the hospital. She had to be admitted so the plastic surgeon could put 12 stitches in her left ear. The whole experience was awful in itself but was compounded by the fact that I felt like I was dying the whole time we were waiting in the triage room. I even talked to the doctor there about how I was feeling, and he advised that I just go home and rest. Even though it killed me to miss my baby's surgery, I also knew I just didn't have the energy for it.

Snuggling with Daddy in the triage room

Smiling even at 1 a.m. the night she was admitted

November 5: Charlotte came home, doing really well given the circumstances. My mom, however, determined that we were going back to the emergency room and that someone was going to listen to me about not getting better. We got there at 2 p.m. and did not get called back to a room until 9 p.m. It was the longest 7 hours of my life, and I went to the bathroom literally every 30 minutes. My pulse was 118 (as though I had been doing a light cardio workout), and my potassium level was dangerously low. I had a repeat CT scan that night, and my colon was still inflamed.
November 6: My doctor in the hospital, Dr. Lofton (whom I really liked) decided to repeat the C. diff test, and it came back negative. I never had C diff, but I had been treated for it for 2 weeks. On this day I also met my GI doctor, Dr. Szych (it was a God thing that he happened to be the one on call because I had previously had an appointment to meet with him on November 7). I worked on eating with my right hand, since I couldn't bend my left arm due to the IV being there (they had started it in my right arm initially, but it stopped working while I was still in the ER).

My dinner one night. Yum.

November 7: I had a colonoscopy (never thought I'd have THAT before age 50!). Dr. Szych felt pretty certain that I had ulcerative colitis, but he wanted to wait until the biopsies came back before he confirmed this. I was started on IV steroids.
November 8: The biopsy results confirmed a diagnosis of ulcerative colitis, and Dr. Szych told me that I have a pretty moderate to severe case. After being on a liquid diet since being admitted, I was thrilled when I was allowed to have soft foods at lunch this day, but my stomach didn't tolerate it, so I went back to full liquids at dinner. In other news, I don't recommend pureed egg.
November 10: This was a good day. I got the IV in my left arm removed , so I was able to use my left hand more freely, and I got to take a shower using both hands. My sweet nurse that day also brought me a large sweet tea from Chic-fil-A, which was amazing because the hospital tea was basically brown-colored water. They placed the new IV in my right hand, so my mobility was much improved. I was on the same floor as the newborn nursery, so I took short walks in the hopes of catching lots of baby cuteness, but I think I saw about 3 babies the whole time I was there! Selfish mommies must have kept them in their rooms with them all the time. :)
November 11: I was feeling some better and hoped I would get to go home, but the doctors decided I needed one more day.

Snuggles with my baby.

November 12: I was finally discharged! I got home around 5 p.m. and got to miss the hospital's meatloaf. I am taking Prednisone and another medicine called Asacol, which I have to take 3 pills 3 times a day.

Lots of pills

It has been quite the roller coaster since I have been home. I didn't feel significantly better the first few days, and on Friday I actually went back to convenient care because I felt so dizzy and weak and had lost 14 pounds just since being home, but all my lab work came back normal. Sunday, however, I think I finally turned a corner. I went to church that morning for the first time in 5 weeks, and on Monday I even worked a half day of work (though it completely exhausted me). Charlotte is also doing better, although she has understandably been super clingy. After not seeing her for the better part of week, I will take all the snuggles I can get!

Happy girl

Some might look at all of this and think I have very little to be thankful for, but I couldn't disagree more. This whole experience has given me an entirely new understanding of the Lord's goodness and mercy in my life. He has more than made Himself known to me in my time of deepest need, and I know now more than ever that He is true to His promises. I have said more than once that if it took all of this for me to see God reveal Himself and refine me in this way, then it was all worth it, and I would do it all again. The love of Jesus has seen me through this, and the love of Jesus can see you through whatever you too may be facing. I can't tell you enough how much you need Him. I can have the healthiest body in the world, but if I don't have Him, I am lost. If you have questions about what it means to have a relationship with Jesus, please comment or email me. I would love to tell you all about Him.