Such is a day today with my girl. She was not feeling well and stayed home from church. What would be of joy to us all was the little feathered friends. And the puffball.
Ribi (Rio) (Amarillo). Our sweet. (actually cute and vivacious) decided to hang below today.
He was ever so happy on Tot’s foot.
Bluebell chirped and chirped. Where is he!!???
Ollie just observes. He’s the starer. He just observes everything around him and takes it all in as Cooper observes him.
Sometimes, we just need to enjoy these moments of stillness. Tatum is my stillness and her birds (and yes, Coopy) make it all the more joyful.
My husband still leaves me teeeeeneeee tineeeeee post-its… barely bigger than my thumb. The size of the note doesn’t = the size of his love however.
So naturally, I returned the favor and I wrote it just large enough for POWERFUL microscope just to read it. Oh, the joy.
And then there’s the warmth….this soft, well-worn corn bag his mom made; the kind you heat up and carry with you. It’s like an anchor to my soul right now.
It’s saved me more times than I can count because it settles my body and steadies my nervous system.
It reminds me I’m cared for in ways both seen and unseen.
Some days, healing doesn’t look dramatic. Perhaps it’s a tiny heart on a mirror or a teeny tiny word of love. OR A warm weight resting where it can hurt.
These are the small things that BECOME BIG and keep me going.
I had no idea how fast the time would go by while she was gone.
Ollie bathing
Coopy staring
Me, looking like an axe murderer
HA! My new red light face mask will make me look UNLIKE an axe murderer I pray!
Me finishing Bluebell and hanging it on her wall.
Now I’ve drawn 2 Ribis, 2 Ollies, and 2 Bluebells. Coopy has gotten zero. Sorry bud; I haven’t mastered the art of white fluffballs.
Anyway, oh, yes, I did work a ton as well. Finished my presentation for next week. I’m speaking to a group of HS teachers at Compton High School in CA about The Writing Process: Why Instruction Matters. So excited for this!!
I cooked, cleaned, organized, worked, and missed her. But I survived and the time flew by.
Tatum, meanwhile, is joining Cross Country. I caught her finishing her 2 mile run with Liam here.
Inhaler needs? Three times. Yes, this is going to be an interesting season.
I love you Taties. I miss you, and I know this is your year!! (Mine too as I heal) AMEN.
The night before the first day of school …she is trying on her outfit and saying…”Is this ok? What about this? How about that? Etc. Yes, the hood is a must! ? Or not.
Sending Tatum back after a year and a half of homeschooling was deeply bittersweet. Homeschooling her was hard….stretch-your-patience, dig-deep hard, but it was also one of the most meaningful seasons we’ve shared. Slow mornings. Learning side by side. Watching her grow not just academically, but as a person. Letting that go wasn’t easy… even though I knew she was ready.
And oh, was she ready.
To help her carry a little comfort with her, I put a small sloth (to CHILL) in the car with us as a buddy. His name was Silas! SMILE
along with a prayer card in her lunch. Just something quiet to remind her she’s never walking alone.
When we arrived, God gave us one of those small but mighty moments of grace. We ran into Liam right away, and he helped her with her locker.
“Three turns, two left, one right… now what?”
Cue the nervous laugh, the figuring it out together, the confidence quietly building.
Then came the rapid-fire questions: Where are my classes? When is lunch? Wait… 11:00 am?! What about cross country…when does that start?
She soaked it all in! Friends. Responsibility. Independence. She is so ready for it ALL! (am I? HA!)
When she got home, there was no homework just relief and excitement, so we curled up together to watch Downton Abbey, our current shared obsession.
But then… the twist.
After dinner, we noticed it: her ear. The second piercing had worked its way through her earlobe. It was scary. And sad. One of those moments you wish you could rewind and fix instantly.
At first, DISASTER. BUT. later.
Head held high. Tender lobe and all.
Tomorrow, she’ll walk back into school just the same…strong and brave.
Well, it was a different kind of experience. Can’t say I’ve ever yearned to go to a place like this, but for Tatum, it was a chance to be with Jack and her buddy Liam.
VIP Airsoft. It’s a BB gun shoot ’em up and all out run around and dodge-a- bullet kind of place. K. Yep.
Apparently there were NO other girls at the place except a couple of adult women. Another hmmmm…..not sure about this…HOWEVER,
she had a blast, no pun intended. Thanks to Doug, she could go. WHY?
Because sadly I was OUT. The day was just one of those “I cannot function” days, and THANK GOD for little Coopy. He knew it. He knew exactly what I needed.
Thank you Jesus for the support of my HHH, my Cooper, and the cheeping of the birdies.
I began 2025 convinced this was my healing year. So I got a new haircut.
Why not!? I had just been diagnosed with Eosinophilic Esophagitis and was starting Dupixent. For the first time in a long time, I thought, This is it. This is the big problem. I believed that once you finally name the problem, healing should follow in a straight line.
I also had the opportunity to fly!! To help a group of teachers in South Carolina. It was a start to a NEW HOPE and NEW year!
I was hopeful. Certain. Ready.
But almost immediately, something didn’t fit the story I had written in my head.
The endoscopy in May showed the EOE was gone and I was thinking how grateful I was. BUT, symptoms remained.
I started having shutdown days; full-body, nervous-system collapses that landed me in bed with no explanation. Not once in a while. Every other day. Like clockwork. There was no clear trigger, no lab value waving a red flag, no obvious reason my body kept saying no. And my gut?? A new symptom every day!! Either my stomach wouldn’t digest food, it would freeze, it would digest too fast, or the worst….gas would get trapped and create complete overhaul of my system. With this, my whole body would just shut down like I took the strongest tranquilizer coupled with extreme nausuea. SO CRAZY. (and scary).
So we searched.
But at this time, Tatum was homeschooling and we were active in the weekly Co-op; by March, we were FINISHED. It was going to be just her and me. And ironically that was my saving grace. Her love filled me and kept me going.
Starting 7th grade, we had some new routines, but all in all, we focused on devotions, math, writing, and reading. Her first paper/presentation was on her missions: “When I die I hope I am remembered for three important things: kindness, loyalty, and being an inspiration; I want others to see Jesus through my actions.”
The other things we’d poke at here and there. It was the best we could do. (She was still going to finish her book!!) (more later on this).
The Year of Rabbit Trails
Looking back, 2025 was not a year of denial or avoidance. It was a year of relentless effort.
We thought maybe it was metals and mold. That theory made sense!! (until it didn’t).
Then we thought, No, look at her fasting insulin. It’s a one. A two. Prediabetes. Blood sugar dysregulation. That must be it.
I wore CGMs.
Did glucose challenges. Saw an endocrinologist.
Then came the deeper dives: Endoscopies. CT scans. Brain scans.
Mold testing. Metal testing.
I hired a mold specialist. I hired a recovery/refeeding “refeed” person after years of restriction from gut issues
New protocols. New supplements. New explanations.
Each one brought a flicker of hope: finally, this explains it….followed by another shutdown day that erased the certainty. OH, and we accumulated supplements. HECK, I could open up a Hay Pharmacy (along with our library we were in business). HAHA. Over and over again. (like GROUNDHOG DAY). It felt like being stuck on a treadmill to nowhere in the dark with NO HOPE.
What I couldn’t see while I was in it was this:
I wasn’t broken. MY BODY was overwhelmed.
The Truth That Changed Everything
The realization that finally landed was that I had been over-treated and underfed for far too long. Shoot, before 2018, I BARELY saw a doctor and didn’t take ONE PILL. …nothing. Nada. Zilch. (except an occasional Advil).
Protocol stacked on protocol. Restriction layered on top of restriction. Constant monitoring. Constant fixing.
All while my body was starving for nourishment, safety, and consistency.
My nervous system eventually did the only thing it knew how to do.
It said: STOP THE MADNESS!!
Those shutdown days weren’t random… I think they were protection. (and a foghorn).
And now, my nervous system is doing what it does best; it’s fighting back. Not against me, but for me. Healing, I’m learning, doesn’t always feel like progress. Sometimes it feels like resistance.
What Stayed When Everything Else Shifted
This year stripped away so much certainty, momentum, even parts of my identity, but it also revealed what was unshakable…steadfast.
My husband has been steadfast beyond words. There he is, coffee in hand, lunch / brekkie in tote and Coopy watching him say goodbye. (sad Coopy: his playmate is leaving!)
Through every theory, every protocol, every hopeful turn and devastating letdown, he stayed. He never rushed me. Never minimized my experience. He walked every rabbit trail with me without needing answers of his own. His steadiness carried me when I couldn’t carry myself.
Oh, and he got a PROMOTION! A new job! He needed a change after way too long on a “going nowhere” NASA project. This job would be much more challenging and exciting at Honeywell. His old team sent him away with a party. (Yay he’s gone!! Or NOOOOOO don’t leave us!!). Yes, the latter. We are so proud of him.
Then there’s the Tot. My bumby. My cutie pie. My daughter…. We’ve been together almost 24/7. She has watched me wax and wane in real time; the hard days, the quiet wins, the moments where I had nothing left to give. And yet she has been patient, kind, and fiercely loyal. She is my best friend in the most endearing, grounded way. We have each other’s backs. Always. Gosh I’m going to miss her when she goes back to school. But, it is FOR HER BEST!! (and mine too).
Our pets became daily joy and rhythm. Oh, I adore Rio/Ribi/Ribiboo. He’s my fav..but don’t tell the other birdies. He always comes up to kiss me or talk to me when I am near.
His personality is like no other.
Ollie and Rio. They are true siblings.
Bluebell came into our world in the summer, and Rio hasn’t been the same.
Rio and Bluebell are inseparable. Rio and Bluebell are truly sitting in the tree…K.I.S.S.I.N.G! They are ready soon for the next “ahem.”
And my Coopy, who never needed explanations, only presence. HIS constancy mattered more than I ever expected.
AND OF COURSE, Jesus’ presence met me where understanding failed me. Enough said.
I was telling Doug about my little smiles that happen to me daily (and that I couldn’t live without). The small, practical mercies: my dishwasher, my wet vac (truly life-changing), my vacuum (because bird seed is not forgiving), and my Wonder Oven. When your capacity is limited, anything that makes life easier is not little. It’s grace!
I need to mention Dr. Ruiz. He never treated me like a problem to solve, but a person to care for. In a year full of searching, that kind of care mattered more than any test result. I hope to be working with him in 2026.
The Sermon That Reframed the Year
I returned to church at the end of the year. Not because I “felt better,” but because I needed to tell my nervous system to SHOVE IT. THIS sermon finally gave language to what I had been living.
Jesus, at twelve years old, lost to His parents for days. Mary (and Joseph) searched everywhere…panicked, heartbroken. When they finally found Him, He was in His Father’s house.
Mary didn’t understand. How could He do this to her? How could this make sense?
BUT…He wasn’t lost.
The line that I HAD TO WRITE DOWN was this:
“Understanding is not a prerequisite to trust.”
Mary didn’t yet understand who Jesus fully was. She didn’t understand the why. But she trusted. We often don’t get it. Why God? Why is this so hard!? But. God.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. (Proverbs 3:5-6)
This year forced me to confront how tightly I cling to understanding; how desperately I want explanations before peace. (but God doesn’t work that way).
The Quiet Grief
I won’t pretend there hasn’t been a lot of loss.
I have had to give up (or at least put on hold) friendships, outings, even some family relationships. Social life has narrowed. Invitations faded. Relationships were placed painfully on the shelf.
That grief is real.
But something else became clear: who stayed. Who loved me without requiring me to be “better.” Who remained present when I had nothing to offer but honesty. Those friends are “lifers.” (just like some of my family).
And I believe this with my whole heart; THERE WILL BE NEW chapters. I will make new friends. I will reconnect with the ones who stuck around. Life will open back up.
Where I Am Now
So here I am.
No new supplements. No new protocols. No new tests.
I am choosing repetition. Boring. Simple. Safe.
I’m going back to church; not when I feel “better,” but now. I’m signing up for school (more on this later) and stepping into business with Dr. (more later) (oh and NOT because I’ve figured it all out, but because I’ve lived it). I’m dating my husband again. I’m sending Tatum back to school.
I am living the best I can and will trust that this will improve.
As I close this year, I’m learning that trust doesn’t come from having answers; it comes from recognizing what has faithfully held me all along. And while there has been loss, there has also been steady grace. Our family has a saying about the 6G’s (the Hay family lives for these: GRIT, GRATITUDE, (being) GLAD, GOD, GRACE, , and GIVING. (the cracked plate means that nothing can truly break us because we have our glue and that is GOD).
I am grateful for the people who stayed, the little things (and big) that carried me, and the presence of JESUS when understanding failed me. This gratitude has been the start to where trust now grows. And so I step forward….not certain, not finished but steady. Trusting God (and holding HIM tight) with what I don’t understand, grateful for what I do, and finally at peace with letting that be enough.
This is the first thing I heard when I took out Coopy on Jan. 1st. I woke up to this glorious view, and then…..
OWLS??? Not one but TWO! And guess what they wanted for breakfast?
Yes, this innocent little fuzzball.
Well, I saved him. HA! They were magnificent however. Anyway, Tatum got the year going with our new calendar and our devotion.
And dad started on the “removal.” This is probably my favorite part of the holiday season. I’m not a grinch. It’s just too much everywhere! I need my space and my declutterized zones. Ya know?
Coopy supervised as usual. He toggled between my lasagna-making
and dad’s deconstruction. Thrilling moment. OH, and of course Tatum’s game of Uno with her “kids.”
I think Rio is winning. He has a knack about him. Just look at that face! Looks innocent but NOPE.
Ok, back to the day. We made cookies. Well, Tatum helped me measure, mix and monitor. AND TASTE!! It’s an important job.
SHE ALSO FINISHED HER BOOK! And named it: THE SHADOW’S CHILD. We will work on getting it published now. More later.
I AM SO PROUD OF HER!!
Otherwise, it was pretty uneventful except we did do our 2026 goals for the year. We reviewed our 2025 (you can look back at that), and updated. Tatum has many more this year!!
Here are Doug’s: GO HONEY!!
My cutie pie’s:
I AM PROUD OF YOU! I love these. I know you are going to do great at school to finish 7th grade.
Then mine. I PRAY for true healing. I DO PRAY!!
I’ll add for family that I hope to do more activities TOGETHER. They are simple and straightforward. Here’s to 2026. I LOVE YOU JESUS.
