Theodore

My little man celebrated his 6th Birthday today!  Every year I read over his birth story to remind me just how lucky I am to be celebrating another year with him.  I posted it originally on my photography business blog, but since that is no longer active I am re-posting it here :)  

Theodore: Gift from God

Theodore was due to make his appearance February 12th.  As I anxiously awaited his arrival, the nesting instinct was in full force.  Every room in the house had been deep cleaned and organized.  The spare bedroom had been painted, refloored, trimmed, and set up with all the necessary nursery accessories.  All the baby toys had been pulled out, assembled, and disinfected.  The freezer was full to the brim with over a month’s worth of homemade frozen meals and side dishes for us to enjoy when we would return from the hospital.  The dresser in my bedroom had been converted to a changing station, and the bassinet was set up for baby’s first few weeks.

All the hospital bags were packed and the carseat was ready to go.  I couldn’t have been more prepared…or so I thought.  Nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to endure.

I started having contractions on Superbowl Sunday.  They were light and far apart and went away completely when I went to bed.  Monday morning they came back and stayed fairly steady throughout the day.  At about 1:00 am on Tuesday, February 8th, the contractions were getting stronger and closer, so I got up and started tracking them.  I called my mom to come stay with Natalie and had my husband start the car.  When I left for the hospital my contractions were 2-3 minutes apart and I checked in at about 3:30 a.m.

The nurse checked me and I was bummed when she said I was only dilated to 1 centimeter…especially since my pre-labor had been so similar to my first pregnancy (I had been dilated to 8 centimeters when I checked in to deliver my daughter).  Normally, I would have just left to labor at home a while longer, but for whatever reason, I didn’t.  That was blessing number one.

Shortly after being hooked up to the fetal monitoring machine, the nurse began to notice decelerations in the baby’s heartbeat after each contraction.  She watched it for a few contractions and then called in my doctor.  I was put on oxygen and leaned on the birthing ball in an effort to help the situation.  When my doctor arrived, he watched the baby’s heartbeat, checked me to find that I was now dilated to 3 centimeters, and calmly suggested a C-section.  He said that something was clearly stressing the baby out and rather than us biting our nails in hopes that the baby would be ok, we might be best to just get the baby out.  I agreed and plans began to be made. 

The doctor addressed all the questions that I had concerning C-sections -

• I would be awake and numbed from the neck down
• I would still get to hold my baby right away
• We could still take pictures
• The hospital stay would be lengthened by a day
• The recovery would be slightly different than with a normal delivery. 

He left to get things ready and the nurses began to prep me.  Shortly after, they were struggling to find the baby’s heartbeat after each contraction.  They called my doctor back in and he checked me again and to try to rouse the baby.  Then he turned to the nurses and said “this is now a STAT C-section”.  I began to break down emotionally because I was certain that I was going to lose the baby.  They still struggled to hear heart tones and began frantically preparing me for an emergency C-section.  I called my mom crying to tell her the news and she made arrangements to come.  She prayed for me and reminded me that I needed to try to stay calm to get oxygen to the baby.

In order to get oxygen to the baby, I had to be on all fours as they wheeled my bed down the hospital corridor into the operating room.  The scrub nurses protested as I entered that my un-sterile bed could not be brought into the operating room.  My nurses responded they had no choice… this was a STAT C-section.  They did everything they could while I was on all fours and then I laid on my back for them to catheterize me.  They tried and tried and it wouldn’t work.  I was in pain from contractions and this was not helping anything.  The IV wasn’t cooperating and it seemed nothing was going right.  I hadn’t heard the baby’s heartbeat at all and was crying uncontrollably.  My husband wasn’t allowed to be in the room yet, so I had no one to calm me down.  The doctor’s entered and told me I was going to be put under general anesthesia, a method they had previously told me was only done in emergency situations.  They prepped my stomach and asked the anesthetist why I wasn’t under yet.  He responded he was going as fast as he could.  One of the doctors assured me they would wait to cut until I was under.  My doctor just held eye contact with me and gave me a reassuring wink.  I heard the other doctor say ”Sarah Homme STAT C-section 5:36 am” to the scrub nurse taking notes, and then I was under.

I awoke, groggy and in a fog to hear my doctor and my husband saying “Teddy”.  I realized it must have been a boy.  They said he only weighed 4# 14.5 oz and that the umbilical cord had been wrapped around his neck 5 times and twice around his body.  I am still foggy as to what else was said in the recovery room.  After a while, I was wheeled down the hallway.  My parents and my husband were there waiting.  My mom had my phone, it had been sitting on my bed which was still in the middle of the hallway outside the operating room when she arrived.  I sent my husband to get my glasses because I had had to remove my contacts before the surgery and couldn’t see anything.  I was able to see my son through the nursery window before they brought me back to my room, but I don’t remember any details of this because I was still under the effects of the anesthesia.

My doctor came in to show me an x-ray they had taken of Teddy’s chest, but was called out to help in the nursery.   When he returned, he said that Teddy’s chest x-ray was clear but that he was having a little trouble breathing so he was thinking about calling the Grand Forks NICU.  They had the specialized technology and staff and it would be what was best for Teddy.  I agreed and the NICU team was called.  It was agreed that Justin would follow the ambulance there to be with Teddy and I would follow as soon as I was discharged.  I called friends and family to let them know that he was being transported soon so they could come in and see him before he left.  The nursery blinds were shut and I couldn’t get up to go in there with him and he was too unstable to come into my room.  When the NICU team arrived, they tended to Teddy in the nursery.  The head nurse came into my room to discussed all the details and to have me sign the forms necessary to admit Theodore to the NICU.  I asked her if I would be able to hold him before he left.  She said no, but that I would be able to touch him.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, they wheeled Theo in. 

He looked so small and fragile… I hadn’t been able to remember any details of what he looked like from a few hours earlier so I was trying to take him all in. 

They took down the side of his isolette and I prepared myself to reach in and touch his little tiny body. 

Then, much to my surprise, they began to take him out and put him in my arms.

I snuggled him in close and kissed his little cheeks.  

I tried to take in every detail… his ears, his nose, his little fingers and toes…

I pulled back his hat to see his hair.  He looked so much like his sister, I couldn’t believe it.

 Daddy stood nearby with Natalie.  This picture shows how much weight was on his shoulders.  He had tried to be so strong for me and yet he felt so helpless.  The concern in his eyes as he watched his wife with his son… well they say a picture is worth a thousand words…

Natalie was able to give her little brother a kiss before he left.  She loves babies so much and even having only seen him the one time, she would refer to “Teddy” throughout the time he was at the NICU.

 They said it was time for him to go.  I whispered in his ear that I needed him to be a little trooper and fight so that I could hold him again.

I cried as they took him from my arms.  My belly was empty, and now my arms were too.  It hurt so bad… both physically from the surgery, and emotionally.

 They got Theodore all secured and wheeled my son out of my room.  He wasn’t even 7 hours old and would already be leaving his mommy. 

Later that evening, Justin called me with an update.  When Theodore left the hospital, he had very little muscle tone.  If you lifted his arm, it would fall lifeless at his side.  His blood sugar had also been low.  He had struggled breathing and had struggled to maintain his body temperature.  Since he had arrived at the NICU his muscle tone looked to be improving, his blood sugar was stabilizing, he was breathing with just a slight air flow to take away some of the work from him, and he was being kept in a warmer to help maintain his temperature.  They had also found he was low on platelets so they had given a transfusion to try to help with that.

It was so hard to be away from him.  There was nothing that I could do for him except to get my milk supply going and to try and heal enough to get discharged.  Every two hours I would pump and then try to get up and moving.  In the middle of the night, I had just returned from a walk and was sitting in the rocking chair thinking, ”this wasn’t how it was supposed to be… I should be holding my little boy right now.  I can’t even remember what he looked like.”  I took out my camera and looked over the pictures that had been taken while he was at the hospital.  Everything looked so out of proportion… pictures couldn’t capture his tiny little ears or his long fingernail beds… this was so unfair.

I was lucky enough to be discharged the following day.  I was still in pain from the C-section, but wasn’t showing any signs of any risk factors and was able to get up and move around.  When I arrived in Grand Forks, Justin met me at the hospital entrance and wheeled me up to the NICU, a trek I would take many times over the next week.  Up the elevator to the fourth floor… call in on the black phone that we were here to see Teddy… wait to get buzzed in… walk down the hallway and take a right… continue walking to the NICU entrance… call in on the red phone… wait to get buzzed in.  Once inside, all outerwear was removed and set with other belongings in the entry area.  Then jewelry was removed and we scrubbed in.  Justin walked me through each step of the scrubbing in process.  Turn on sink with knee lever… roll up sleeves to elbows… rinse from elbows to fingertips and scrub with pink soap… rinse… dry… apply disinfectant.  After a week of scrubbing in multiple times each day, my hands were dry and raw… cracking and bleeding at the knuckles. 

After we scrubbed in, Justin led me to see my little Theodore.  I hadn’t prepared myself for how he would look and was shocked and overwhelmed with emotions as I approached him.  He was laying in a warmer with bili-lights above him.  On either side of the warmer there were multiple computer screens displaying his vitals.  From head to toe he was covered in wires, cords, or sensors.

He wore goggles to protect his eyes from the bili-lights.  On each temple there was a bandaid that helped to hold the canula in his nose.  There was an IV line in each hand that was taped on so that only his thumb was free.  The inside of each elbow had a bandaid from being poked and prodded.

There were three sensors attached to his chest to monitor his heartrate and respirations, and a gold heart to track his skin temperature.  He had a line going directly into his belly button that they drew his labs from and administered his IV fluids through.  A plastic bag was over his privates to obtain a urine sample.  One foot had a O2 level sensor wrapped around it and the other held the PICC line they had to insert the day before.   Both heels had multiple bandaids covering the many needle pokes he had received.

 Justin walked me through what each sensor was monitoring and what the levels on the computer screens should read.  I couldn’t believe how much he knew and understood about everything.  He had only been there 24 hours and it appeared to be second-nature.

The next day his air support was discontinued so I was able to bottlefeed him some of the milk I had pumped.  They turned off the bili-lights during the feeding so his goggles could be removed.  Even though his eyes were closed it was so nice to be able to see his face.  I couldn’t hold him because the central line in his belly button was inserted into an artery and it was too dangerous, but at least I could feel his little head in my hand.

 The nurse burped him before replacing his goggles and turning the bili-lights back on.

After his belly line was removed I was finally able to hold him! It was so wonderful getting to feel him in my arms again.  I wanted to kiss him a million times to make up for lost kisses.

 As time went on and his health improved he was able to move into a new “home”.  In the process of the move they removed all the unnecessary cords and wires so it looked a little less imposing. 

We were able to hold him for each of his feedings.  Justin always gave me first dibs because he knew how hard it was for me not to get to hold him all the time, but he loved holding his little man too!

 After showing that he could regulate his own temperature, Teddy was moved to an open “crib”. 

Then finally he able to leave the NICU and room in with us in the Pediatric wing of the hospital.

We relished in being able to hold him and snuggle with him.

  Simple tasks like changing his clothes and feeding him were so exciting!

He even sucked his little thumb!

After two nights in the Pediatric wing we finally got the go-ahead to head home!  He was already 10 days old and weighed 5 pounds 8.6 ounces.

 We got some pictures with the Dr’s who worked on him at the NICU. 

Then we headed home!

We were greeted with signs and a “Teddy” cake, and Celine Dion’s Miracle was playing as we entered the house.

Natalie was so happy to see her little brother!

We were finally home together!

The three most important people in my life!

THEODORE’S MIRACULOUS STORY

When my doctor was called out to help in the nursery shortly after Theodore’s birth, it was because Teddy was crashing.  Two separate times this happened and he had to be resuscitated.   This unfortunate event was what led the Dr. to recommend sending Teddy to the NICU.

Upon arrival at the NICU, Teddy was diagnosed with IUGR, which basically means that his growth was restricted in utero.  The doctors believe that the cord was wrapped around his neck for 6-8 weeks.  This constricted the flow of oxygen and nutrients to him.  In most cases, the baby would respond to this lack of oxygen by slowly giving up and would either not make it to term, or would be born pale and lifeless with a small head circumference indicative of a small brain. 

In Theodore’s case, for medically inexplicable reasons, his response to the lack of oxygen and nutrients was to overcompensate by producing more blood.  Teddy’s skin was dark purple at birth because he had almost double the blood volume of a normal infant.   His head measured 13 1/4 inches which is within normal range, but his chest measured only 11 1/4 inches.  In essence, Teddy starved his body to feed his brain.   As the doctor said, this is the best case scenario because a baby can always gain weight, but cannot do anything to grow his brain. 

This miraculous overcompensation on Teddy’s part could have also had terrible effects.  With so much extra blood in his little body, it could have pooled in his brain, belly, or another area in his body.  This issue was not detected until the NICU team poked him to draw labs and he started oozing blood, so had he not been transfered to the NICU, this issue may not have been detected early enough.  In producing so much extra blood, the ratio of red blood cells to platelets was way off.  Teddy received multiple transfusions during his stay at the NICU to balance out the composition of his blood.  

Testing had also been done on the placenta and showed that some of the connective tissues that help transport nutrients between the uterus and the placenta had died.  The Dr. informed us that this could possibly mean that Teddy was brain damaged and that further testing was going to be done.  After a long night of prayer, the brain ultrasound came back clear!

When Teddy’s final labs were done, all of his levels were within normal range.  I asked if I would need to be concerned about any of these areas and the Dr. said that any issues that Teddy dealt with during his stay at the NICU had been resolved and I wouldn’t need to worry about them at all.

He is currently receiving a supplement to help him gain weight, and will need a hearing re-screen in a couple of weeks as he did not pass the initial test.

There were so many times that we could have lost Theodore, but God proved his faithfulness again and again.

I could have gone in for a regular prenatal appointment to find out that there were no heart tones… but God spared me.

I could have delivered a stillborn baby… but God spared me.

Teddy could have died in the delivery room… but God spared us.

They could have been unable to resusitate him in the nursery, and Teddy could have left this earth before I ever got to hold him… but God spared us.

Teddy’s miraculous overcompensation in producing blood could have caused him permanent damage or death… but God spared us.

Teddy could have suffered from brain damage… but God spared us.

Teddy overcame every obstacle and beat the odds.  I am so thankful that my Doctor called for a C-section and recommended sending him to the NICU.  I am so thankful to the Dr’s and nurses who cared for him at the NICU and helped save my little boy.  But my doctor said it best… when I thanked him for saving my baby he responded,

“No, that was Him… I was just the facilitator.” 

MN Kind

I recently had a conversation with two people who are non-natives to our small Minnesota town.  One has lived here for a number of years and the other moved here in the last year or so.  In the course of our exchange, the concept of "Minnesota Nice" came up.  While they both acknowledged experiencing firsthand or witnessing this trait in action, the more recent transplant was appalled at how people could be so nice to one's face, only to speak ill of them when they turned their back.  Being from the East Coast where people generally do not mince words, it was an eye-opener for him to see such blatant betrayal.  

I've always considered "MN Nice" a positive term that conveys the warm, friendly spirit of our citizens; how we come together to support one another, bring meals to those who would benefit from them, politely interact with one another, etc. A quick google search of "Minnesota Nice definition" gave me the Wikipedia definition of the term -

 "Minnesota nice is the stereotypical behavior of people born and raised in Minnesota 

to be courteous, reserved, and mild-mannered"

- followed by a website dedicated to "Surviving and Thriving in Minnesota Nice".  The website, founded by a MN native and a 16 year MN resident from New Jersey even made a little video to elaborate on the definition of MN Nice. 

I have to say, that although my initial response was to get defensive, 

I found it to be somewhat accurate of the residents of my state. 

And even worse, myself!  

What it boils down to for me is that to be MN Nice is to be disingenuous.  Fake.  

And there is no worse adjective I can think of with than that!  

Another quick google search on "difference between kind and nice" brought me to this article. An over-simplified paraphrase of the authors sentiments are that a nice person is "externally motivated" and acts nice to win the approval of others, where a kind person is "internally motivated" and acts out of the goodness of his or her heart. 

Most of the people I know well and am close to don't fit this new MN Nice definition.  

So let's redefine it!  

Heck let's rename it!  

Instead of being MN Nice, let's all choose to be MN Kind.  

Let's be genuine in our interactions.  

Don't ask someone how they are or how their holiday was if you aren't interested in the answer.  

Lets skip past the pleasantries and small talk, and dig deeper.

Let's mean what we say, and say what we mean.

Let's choose to be the person that people confide in, not the person that people run to for the latest gossip.

Let's help people for the sake of helping them, not for the credit or recognition.

Let's stop bottling up everything and biting our tongues. 

This doesn't mean you are entitled to swing to the opposite end of the pendulum. 

Just be honest, and share your thoughts and feelings in a real and respectful way.

Let's be Kind, not Nice.

The Best Christmas

This past Christmas was my favorite one to date!  Having four kiddos, age 7 and under, was the greatest contributing factor.  If you find yourself to be a bit of a Scrooge around the holidays, I highly recommend finding a niece or nephew or child of a friend to celebrate with, because their enthusiasm and excitement is contagious! The best part for me this year was seeing their reaction to the news that we were adding another babe to our brood.  We have talked about adoption for years and they have witnessed the adoption of their three cousins, so the concept is not foreign to them. However, seeing the look of realization on their faces as Natalie read the poem we wrote to share the news was priceless.

"We hope you enjoyed all your presents.

We picked them out special for you.

To play with, create with, or wear,

With so many new things, you'll have so much to do!

We have one more gift to give you

We saved the BEST one for last.

We're going to adopt a baby!

It might take awhile, or happen fast.

So prepare to be a big sister again,

Or a big brother if you are named Teddy.

We'll soon have another family member

So we hope that you are ready!!"

When she got to the line "We're going to adopt a baby", Teddy's face lit up and a smile spread across it as he asked "Are we really going to!?"  They were so excited and asked so many questions about the baby.  "Will it be a boy or a girl!?" "Will it be a brand new baby like cousin Leni, or a big baby like cousin Jakey?" And the most pressing question of all, "When will the baby be here?" 

The waiting period of an adoption is not unlike a pregnancy.  Today we received confirmation that our adoption application had been processed and we had been approved to begin the Home Study process.  The bold letters stating our application was accepted was like looking at the two pink lines on a pregnancy test.  You had a pretty good hunch that you were expecting, but now it's confirmed! 

The next step of the process will be the Home Study. This will entail a day-long orientation in February, paperwork, background checks, reference checks, more paperwork, a home visit, more paperwork, two more visits at the agency, a psych evaluation, and even more paperwork! The time frame quoted on this was 2-8 months, depending on how quickly you complete your paperwork.

Once the Home Study is completed and approved, we will be added to the waiting list.  Our agency typically tries to match expectant mothers to adoptive families in their 8th month of pregnancy. So if the expectant mother appears to be a good match to us, we will have the option of showing her our photo book, as will the other families on the waiting list.  Ultimately the expectant mother is the one who determines with whom her child is placed, and therefore the wait time on this portion of the process is difficult to quantify. The agency worded it "Couples have been waiting anywhere from 3 months to approximately 3 years or so for a placement. The average wait is currently about one year."

So the wait is like a pregnancy, but instead of 9 months, we are looking at anywhere from 7 1/2 months to 4 years! Haha! Thank goodness it isn't a pregnancy, I can't imagine 4 years of that!! For whatever reason, I am hopeful it will be closer to the 7 1/2 month figure and picture a baby in my arms next Christmas so we can top the awesome Christmas we had this year!  There's no harm in being optimistic, right!?

I've decided to share this journey because A) I can use all the support I can get! And more importantly, B) I am hoping that by sharing our story, others who have considered adoption will dig a little deeper and take the plunge!

This piece of wall art in my living room says it best:

Comic Relief

As a pre-teen in the late 90s, whenever the opportunity presented itself, I would sneak the latest edition of YM magazine from one of my older sisters, run into my room, and open to the "Say Anything" section. In it, teens would retell their most embarrassing stories and I would belly laugh at their misfortune. I don't know what it was about reading of others' most mortifying moments that brought me such joy, maybe I'm a smidge sadistic, I don't know.  

Regardless, today was one of those days that I could've written my own column, and since today also marks the culmination of one of the more tumultuous and divisive presidential elections, I thought you might be in need of some comic relief.

I subbed in the high school today for 10th-12th grade students.  Although I have subbed for the high school a fair amount this year, I still feel a little apprehensive each time I sign up to be the authority figure to this age.  It's as though I am transported back to my high school years and feelings of self-consciousness start to surface and I constantly wonder if the little giggle or hushed whisper is about me.  Well today, there was no "little" or "hushed" and certainly no "wondering".

The day started fine. 

First hour was my prep.

Second hour got a little rowdy, but settled down and was fine.

Third hour was uneventful.

Fourth hour was a split period, meaning they come to class for half an hour, break for lunch, and then return to class for another half hour. 

All was going well and when the bell rang for lunch I locked up and went to the teachers' lounge for lunch. After eating, I ducked into the bathroom for a quick break and as I was standing back up, I felt a wet splash on the back of my legs. I looked behind me to confirm the unfortunate reality that the back of my dress was dripping into the toilet seat it had just dipped into!  McNasty! I stepped out of the private toilet stall and quickly confirmed I was alone before hiking up my dress to try and rinse it out in the sink.  Thankfully the dress was black and the fabric is one that you can't tell if it's wet, but seriously!? As I was patting it dry with the least absorbent paper towels known to man, the bell marking the end of lunch rang. Dang it! I booked it down the hall and thankfully made it to my room before there was a line up in the hall.

Thankfully the remainder of fourth hour was without incident. 

Then came 5th hour.  

Agh... dreaded 5th hour.  

Don't get me wrong. The kids were just fine, as welcoming and kind as you would expect with a substitute teacher.  

One kid in the front was selling chocolate bars for an upcoming school trip to Europe so I pulled a single from my purse and said I would buy one. I handed him the money, reached down to the box of chocolate bars to retrieve one, and unbeknownst to me, my substitute badge caught on the bottom of my dress so that as I straightened upright, the front of my dress was pulled up with it.  I didn't even realize my undies were nearly on display until I was turned back toward my desk, but I'm quite certain the "hushed whispers" were about me and my inadvertent flashing!

Just wait, it gets better. Or in my case, worse... so much worse!

Later this same hour, I had noted some not-so-subtle answer sharing by two boys across the back of the room.  I had observed and commented on it, and they thought it would be funny to put up their hoods so as to hide their faces while they continued to share answers.  I thought I would sneak over and slip into the desk in front of one of the perpetrators in hopes that my presence would dissuade him from continuing to cheat.  I walked along the right side of the row of desks, firmly placed my hands on the desk top and seat back of the desk, and swung my legs to land in a seated position. 

Are you thinking I biffed the landing and fell?

I wish.

Maybe I tipped over the whole desk and landed with my dress up by my shoulders?

I could only have hoped to be that lucky.

No. I didn't fall, or slip, or flash the class for a second time.... 

You know the sound that results from cupping your hand under your armpit and then pumping that arm up and down... 

Well my hands and armpits were both in plain view and that is the sound that coincided with my landing on the chair.  The world's loudest fart noise was somehow created by my legs as I sat down and the entire class stopped, stared, and then burst into uncontrollable laughter!  My face flushed red and I shouted "I swear it wasn't a fart!!" 

The laughter continued.  

"That's what I would say too if I farted!" 

"Oh my gosh, did you hear that!?"

 How do you even defend yourself to a bunch of teenagers when a sound like that just came from you!? 

I briefly considered explaining the science behind an armpit fart, but settled on just moving forward and helping the student focus on his own work. 

Needless to say I spent the final hour of the day firmly planted in my desk!!

I hope sharing my misfortune afforded you the opportunity to belly laugh at my expense and got your mind off this election business, if only for a moment!

Fast Forward

It's getting to the time of year that I want to just press fast forward. Not that I want to wish time away, but with less than 2 weeks until Election Day, my Facebook newsfeed is in political high gear. I despise politics and the conflict and confrontation that inherently go hand and hand with them. I've been urged to vote Hilary, to vote Trump, to vote party lines and definitely not 3rd party (unless I want to waste my vote), to vote for a 3rd party, (that it is NOT throwing my vote away).... I've read articles about past scandals and new wiki-leaks, about candidates track records and how their proposed policies will affect our future....

It is all so overwhelming.  

And yes, I know it is my duty as a citizen to vote - although I do agree with Mike Rowe's commentary on it being a right, not a duty - and I plan to do so, but admittedly I feel like my vote doesn't even "count" anyway when I am a member of a state that has a party affiliation that goes back to the Great Depression (outside of a few select elections between then and now).  

The best, albeit oversimplified, perspective I've heard about this year's election came from a customer sitting at the bar in the restaurant I serve at. This gentlemen said if you like how we are sitting now as a nation and the direction in which we are headed, there probably won't be much change by voting Hilary. If you don't like our current status as a nation or where we are heading, there probably will be a shift with a Trump presidency.

All this to say that I'm taking a break from social media until all this election hoopla is done. I've never taken a defined break, but hear it does wonders for the soul! And when all I continue to see as the time to vote draws nearer is heated debates bordering on knock-down, drag-out fights, I can't think of a better time to try it out!

**As a quick follow up, I'm sure that I have somehow offended someone in writing how I am personally feeling this election season.  To clarify, you can feel free to continue to post political articles and opinions and discuss your thoughts in each other's comment threads to your heart's content. I am not passing judgment on you so please don't get defensive. I am simply excusing myself from that conversation.  Happy Thursday!