The Last three months have absolutely been the most difficult time in my life. I can't sleep tonight as memories flood my thoughts. And while I struggle inside, trying to wrap my head around why I am going through this experience, and why it is still very much so consuming my life, I am baffled and amazed in the same moment.

Trials they say, are given to you to work through, to refine you, and though I know I  feel many times that I cannot handle what I am given, I do trust that It is all for the greater good. My life experience, shall I say.

When I am honest with myself,  I realize that it has been the Strength, Faith and determination of my family and my husband that has gotten me through this.  Maybe I shouldn't say through this...I'm definitely still in the thick  of it. But I feel so honored to have those close to me there to rally around me, lift me up, and constantly encourage me. Without their support I would have lost all faith.

There is memory I will never forget though, about a week and a half after my surgery, my parents had gone back to Hawaii, Tim was back to long shifts at work, and I was alone.. for the first time. Oh how alone I felt.
 shuffling around the house, walker in tow, when I walked (slowly) to the kitchen to heat up some lunch that was already prepared, waiting in my Refrigerator.

 I slowly pulled the door open, everything seemed so taxing and I felt so weak. I got it in the microwave, and realized that I had No clean forks in the drawer, I had a dozen of them someone had washed for me in the dishwasher, but this is where it got pathetic...

 I opened the dishwasher and let the door fall down, Since I could not simply bend over and grab the fork I started to get really overwhelmed since the dishwasher is so low to the floor and I am so tall. I began cursing these dang legs, if I weren't so tall then this would be so much easier...

I beat myself up so bad, assuring the sick me, that I was worthless! I wasn't useful anymore, I couldn't do anything around my house, I couldn't even go down the stairs to check on my business. I had lost my independence, my spunk, my energy, heck even my ability to shower myself. You get the point. I was in a bad place.

The pain was so intense I couldn't even will my body into doing such an easy task. I slowly, carefully started lowering myself down, lower and lower to the ground,clinging to the counter and cupboards. And what would have to taken two seconds took minutes..

 I got that fork, but I felt so defeated and miserable, I couldn't even find it in me to pull myself back  up. I layed on my side, on my kitchen floor for at least ten minutes, sobbing as gently as possible, my incision spasming with every breath..And I remember hearing the microwave beeping at me over and over, beckoning me to snap out of it! I was so angry at that fork I couldn't even give it the satisfaction of being eaten from. Instead I got back into bed, leaving the lasagna in the microwave.

 Needless to say, I lost twelve pounds that first couple weeks.That experience will always be vivid in my mind. At that moment I was defeated, I had nothing left to fight. So through these last couple of months when I am having really hard days with the pain, I remember that not too long ago I was a helpless hopeless woman sobbing on her kitchen floor. And somehow I'm able to see just how far I've come.

 I know this is long, but I feel like I need this written for myself so I can look back on it someday and remember this time in my life.

Maybe what I am learning through this is that it isn't so much that I need to endure, or be strong, But that I need to be appreciative. Our bodies are fragile yet amazing, and we need to love ourselves and be grateful for our bodies.

 They are the vessel in which we are experiencing this earthly existence! What a blessing it is to even have the
opportunity to receive a body. In fact It is the reason we all chose to come to this earth. So when I get really depressed I try to remind myself "You chose this. You knew the pain you'd go through, and it was worth it."
So though my body is not perfect, it is a gift from God. And I am trying to be nicer to it.

 I have spent the past three years cursing my body" My dang back is so stupid, I can't do the things I want to or need to do!" And now I have come to realize all of the many amazing things that my body does allow me to do. And maybe I realized that ONLY after all of it was taken from me.