Wednesday, October 16, 2019

6 years

This year's anniversary is a bit different than the others, and has me feeling a little extra nostalgic. Yesterday was Tuesday, October 15, 2019. Our lives changed forever on Tuesday, October 15, 2013. 6 years. It has been 6 years.

10/15/2013


In the years since that unforgettable day, so many things have changed, and improved. We have added two new sons in law, 5 new grandchildren, nearly 7 college/grad school graduations, and so many other wonderfully incredible things. Having Dad there for these events is truly a blessing.
Emmi is born
Aubrey and Cameron's Wedding

Cameron's Graduation


Payton is born
Aubrey's Graduation

Kelsey and Richard's Graduation
Kelsey and Richard's Wedding


Weston is Born 

Baer is born

Kelsey's Law School Graduation

Devin's Business School Graduation


Little Bennett is Coming Soon!
Though all of these incredibly wonderful blessings certainly make this anniversary more sweet than bitter, the sting of 2013 still creeps up. We just celebrated our sweet Payton's fourth birthday on Monday October 14, one day before our Dadiversary. While my mind was certainly swept up in celebrating my little girl, there were moments throughout the day where I would get trapped in a memory from 2013. There are times when I still need to catch my breath after such memories play out in my mind, and there are times when I need to use some cognitive tricks to re-root myself in the now. Being able to call my dad after those memories sweep me away is truly a profound blessing.

So, six years later. Dad is doing well. And we are so grateful we can say that. He and Mom are living their forever in their little Alpine haven, and even visiting kids out of state! So many blessings. Thank you for continuing to love our family on our journey. 

Love,
The Baers



Monday, October 15, 2018

Still.

Yesterday was Payton's third birthday. We had so much fun celebrating her little life with family and friends. We kept ourselves busy trying to make her little three year old dreams come true ALL. DAY. LONG. By 11 p.m., I was finally ready to settle down for the night. As I was laying in bed,  I was so peaceful as I reminisced on the best parts of our day. I drifted off to sleep quickly.

By 3 a.m., I was wide awake. I spent the rest of my restless night going back and forth from our bed to our couch. I felt like I was "buzzing",  like my brain just couldn't turn the lights off and sleep. I attributed it to our long day of Payton's celebrations. It wasn't until around 10 this morning that I had an "aha" moment of why my brain couldn't sleep.

It is October 15. It is the anniversary of almost losing my dad.

Today marks five years since we all gathered to the hospital to say goodbye. Five years since cancelling work, and school to rush to the hospital. Five years from when emergency babysitters were contacted, five years since calling friends and relatives pleading for prayers.

Five years.

Though it has been five years since Tuesday, October 15, 2013, we STILL feel the emotional wounds that were inflicted that day. About a month ago, I was working on a scrapbook layout containing pictures and journal entries from those months in the hospital. Yes I know it seems totally bonkers that I would add things from those traumatizing months to my "Smith Family Scrapbook"...but I did it because I want my children to know about this incredible, life-changing experience. I made the layout, and wrote 2 pages to go along with the first hospital spread in my scrapbook. I was so proud of how good everything looked that I facetimed my mom to show her my work.



That night, I expressed to Cam that I was having trouble catching my breath. I didn't know if I was coming down with a cold or something, but as the night progressed, so did the severity of my symptoms. My heart rate climbed up to the 160s (even though I was laying on my bed), my chest was heavy and I was shaking. As I lay on my bed, thinking that I was dying from something (literally that is what it felt like!) I had this overwhelming desire...not even a desire, but  life or death NEED to call my dad. We called, and as soon as my parents answered I just sobbed. My mom suggested that I was having a panic attack from stirring up the memories in my heart. As soon as she said it, my subconscious flooded my heart and mind with old, familiar feelings that I try so hard to keep locked away.

I felt every emotion, every particle of fear and every ounce of hopelessness that I felt on October 15, 2013. It comes back. STILL,

Though we do talk about the hospital experience often, we don't delve deep into the emotions associated with it because they are debilitating. As soon as one of those emotions gets through, the rest seem to rush us as an unstoppable flood.

This isn't to say that we haven't been so miraculously blessed by seen and unseen angels. We know that we are STILL being supported by so many around us. We know that our Father in Heaven has helped us to compartmentalize the hard parts of the hospital experience so that we can function every day. We know that friends, family, angels and heaven are supporting my mom as she helps care for my dad. Things are so GOOD right now....but every now and then, especially on this anniversary, hearts become heavy as we remember that day.

So for today, we want to say "thank you". Thank you for continued prayers. Thank you for your friendship. Thank you for supporting us. And thank you to our Father in Heaven and His Son for holding us close as we press on.

With love,
The Baer Family




Sunday, October 15, 2017

Moments of Gratitude

2, 102, 400 minutes. That is how many minutes are in 4 years. That is how many minutes that I have been grateful for the additional time with my dad.

Four years ago today we gave him over to our Father in Heaven, letting His will be done. I will always always ALWAYS be grateful that He spared my dad, but even if He didn't, I would still be grateful. Because just as God has kept healing my heart since that time WITHOUT taking away my dad's life, I know God would keep healing my heart if He had.

My sister and I were talking the other day about how this experience changed us. Our different filters of perspective pushed us to deal with this experience in different ways. I was affected in my return missionary-finishing college way. Kelsey was experiencing it as a missionary-on-the-other-side-of-the-world way. Devin was experiencing it as guy-with-a-job-and-family way. Brittni as a mom-and-pregnant-with-another way. Jamiin as a mother-who-is-healing way. And my Mom...his wife...in a -watching-her-sweetheart-and-protector-struggle way. We all experienced different things, but we were all bound by one thing: love and trust in the Savior.

4 years have gone by and all of us have continued to live our lives. If someone told me during this trial that I would one day move across the country with my family I wouldn't have believed it. How could I ever let go of being with my dad? How could I ever not be nearby if he ever took a turn for the worse? Through the enabling power of the Atonement, Christ healed my heart, took my hand and truly enabled me to walk forward to where I needed to be.

As I look back on all that we have passed through in these 4 years, I am just overwhelmingly filled with gratitude. God is so good, and I just wanted to share. :)

We love all of you and are grateful for helping us along this journey.

Love,
Aubs

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

There's no place like home

Hi all. We apologize for the delay in updates. Thanks for being patient with us. Y'all get the privilege of reading some words from Mama Baer today:

We got the final and specific diagnosis for Mike: Acute bacterial pneumonia. This means that he is still in the thick of it. Pun intended. Then came the good news. We were able to bring Mike home yesterday evening so he could receive his care in a place away from all of the sicknesses that you find in the hospital. We have all of the equipment and care necessary to take care of him as he heals. The past few hours have been wonderful...it has been perfect and quiet being able to deal with this in our own home.
Because Mike is battling this infection, we ask that we keep visits to a minimum, especially if you or someone you've been in contact with has been ill. Mike needs a lot of rest, but we want all of you to know that we are so grateful for the prayers offered in our behalf. We know that the Lord took such good care of us, as is evidenced by us being able to return home.
Please feel free to text Mike and I, we appreciate your thoughts and your love!

Lori

So that's the latest y'all! Payton and I are happy to be here and visiting grandpa at home and NOT in the hospital. (but seriously you guys....such a blessing!) We love you all and will keep you updated if anything changes.

Com amor,
Aubrey

Monday, February 6, 2017

Anyone? Anyone?

You know the scene from Ferris Bueller's day off when the economics teacher asks like a billion questions and goes "anyone? anyone" after each one and it shows a bunch of students just staring at him with their mouths open?

That pretty much sums up our family's experience with my dad's health. The current update is this: the doctors just aren't sure what is going on. They know he has a mass of some sort in his lung, but they aren't convinced it is pneumonia. They are calling it that for the sake of calling it something. They are running more tests today to try and decipher what it really is. In the mean time, they do know that his white blood cell count has gone up since he has been there so we know there is an infection SOMEWHERE.

But it is like...does anyone know what is actually going on? Anyone? Anyone?

In other news,  Payton and I will be flying out to Utah tomorrow to help out my mom. We gotta get that poor lady some sleep!

Thanks for praying for us.  Keem 'em coming!


Aubrey

Sunday, February 5, 2017

What a wild coincidence!

So it has been three years (and two days) since Papa Baer came home from the hospital. In these three years Papa has never been admitted into the hospital even once...until tonight. The past couple of days have been a bit of a rollercoaster, but because we now know what is going on we felt that now is the time to share.

Papa has pneumonia. We took him to get checked out yesterday and unfortunately they weren't able to discover anything. (story of our lives though, AMIRIGHT!?) Today he presented even more symptoms of something and we brought him back to the UVRMC ER. They did some lab tests and some x-rays where they discovered that his right lung has pneumonia. That is all we know for now. We don't know if it has passed into his blood, how long he will be in the hospital or much of anything else at this point. Heck we don't even have his room number yet. (SORRY!) 

But there ya have it. He is good and being taking care of. Mom is there with him. Please send some prayers our way....Papa's health has a way of going from totally fine to totally not fine pretty suddenly. 

Oh and he hopes that pats win the Super Bowl.

Com amor,

The Baers

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

A Lifelong Battle with Body Shaming

This was a final paper I wrote for one of my classes. Our assignment was to discuss a trial we have been affected by in our childhood. This is a very pesonal experience for me and sharing it is part of my healing! 

“We can’t be friends with you because you don’t have eyelashes.” Alone on the steps to the playground my eight year old heart was shattered. As a natural born redhead I was blessed with almost translucent skin, blue eyes and aside from my auburn locks the rest of the hair on my body was all but invisible. I went home that day and cried to my mother, begging her to do something about my unfortunate phenotypic circumstance. We went to Walmart, bought brown mascara and spent the rest of the evening practicing applying it. The following day I went to school with visible eyelashes and regained my place among my “friends”. How despairing it is that at 8 years old human beings are already able to place value on a person based on their physical appearance. At eight years of age my value was dependent on the color of my eyelashes.
            Two years later my value was again challenged by peers who further defined worth by bronzed skin. Unfortunately, biology didn’t afford me that privilege and I found myself nearly obsessed with the hunt for a solution to my circumstance. A preoccupation with my “imperfect” body was heightened by the checkout line at the local grocery store. A quick scan of the magazine rack revealed a concept of perpetual conformity to society’s ideal. A perfectly tanned, blonde woman smiled confidently as she sported a short top displaying her perfectly toned stomach. I glanced at the stack of magazines to find another tan woman, this time brunette, wearing a short dress revealing her slim arms and long, muscular legs. I searched the entirety of the media stand for a woman resembling my own physical appearance but she was not found. This pursuit to find a championed redhead on the magazine rack became a ritualistic occurrence during every grocery store visit. Each time I returned home with another item on my biological “fix-it” list.
            Idealistic physical traits have been recorded throughout history’s own media stands. Paintings of heralded body types adorn the walls of famous museums across the world, effectively describing that era’s own definition of human worth. Statues and busts portray tangible evidence of the sought after bodies of the time. The world has never had a shortage of physiological ideals and efforts to enforce them, but our current era is the most dangerously debilitating of all. Magazine shelves at the store are not the only influence of quixotic physical characteristics. Movies, television shows, advertisements on television, social media, websites and billboards are all emblazoned with a “how to change yourself” display. Teenage girls are especially targeted by this type of advertising as it communicates their worth based on clothing brands and styles, hair styles, body type, makeup styles and sexual activity. The only campaigns for expanding worth based on intelligence, mental or emotional maturity, communication skills, healthy sense of self, talents etc. are overshadowed by funded displays parading in an “in your face” crusade.
            Social media has become a visible judging standard to which teenagers are comparing themselves every day. A perfectly designed “candid” photo posted to a media platform begs acceptance and the artist behind the masterpiece is validated based solely on quantifiable response. Truly, this type of esteem based on quantity not quality is disabling our younger generations from healthy mental, emotional, social and intellectual development. For the youth, life is a stage on which they must perform and to which the whole world is the audience. This constant stress to appease the masses places an unbearable burden on a mentally and emotionally immature generation. Unrealistic expectations afflict esteem with ease by celebrities whose “real” lives are the trending topics on public sites. Ads based on reported gender attack the unsuspecting victim with flashy invitations to groups, clubs, and companies that can aid in the effort to conform to “society’s” norms.
            Another invasive contributor to body shaming is that of advertising. Much like the magazines I saw as a young girl, advertising has a loud message. Advertising is completely based on visual representations of the product the company is trying to sell. The overall message given by each corporation is that if you don’t have their product your life is lacking. Making a mockery of organic life experiences, companies insert their product into your most intimate moments, distorting your joyful reality into an avaricious alternative realm. Just one short week after I gave birth to my daughter, companies began emailing me about how I can lose all of the weight I gained through my pregnancy before six postpartum weeks. My focus immediately changed from discovering the intimate joys of my newfound motherhood to my sudden need to put my energy into losing weight. I created an unrealistic ideal which if I failed to fulfill I was not a real mother. In short, if I did not lose all of my pregnancy weight by six weeks I was a bad mom. In actuality my weight and my ability to be a wonderful mom are unrelated. Reaching six weeks and not having lost all of my pregnancy weight shattered me. I was unable to look in the mirror without my eyes immediately judging the width of my thighs, the roundness of my belly, or the subtle double chin that formed from my pregnancy. In an effort to avoid the shame I felt, I would go weeks without looking in the mirror aside from a rushed glance to apply makeup.
            These examples of societal impact are indeed worrisome. The most alarming effect, however, is the poisonous sludge of pornography that intoxicates our world. Situated as the pinnacled omega on the body-shaming spectrum, pornography wages the most violently offensive attack on beautiful realities. Pornography’s very D.N.A. is laced with lies and intertwined with impossible ideals. It physically alters the human brain and disables real human connection. A man whose mind has been horribly disfigured by the unrelenting appetite for the fictitiously portrayed scenes of pornography places his distorted definitions onto all females in his life. Having been defined by a man so afflicted, I have endured a daily battle of his cruel words for more than six years. Although he is long gone from my life, his words ring in my ears as if they were just said.

            As much as we desire a fairytale ending when happiness swoops in like an unexpected breath of fresh air, reality begs a more determined effort for resolution. I have to fight my shaming dragons each day, even when I am so ready to give in to their hurtful lies. Having a valiant knight by my side to slay the offenders is a paramount blessing, though some battles I have to fight alone. Triumph over the disease of body shaming is a possibility, but one that demands determination. Limiting my interaction with the aforementioned abusers is key. If I do not place myself in their line of attack, I will have fewer wounds to mend. Reminding myself of my divinity empowers me to stand resolute and victorious. I know who I am and no matter the slanderous tales the world tries to convince me of,  the truth of my identity will always be there. I am a beautiful daughter of God.