Time Warp.

I must admit, it’s a bit intimidating to just open a blank page and start typing. But hey, that’s the only way to get a blog post, haha. I polled on my Instagram yesterday topics that all of you would like to read about it-particularly from me. I got some great ideas, but before I dive in to start checking those topics off my list, I thought I should probably start with a “Where Courtney is at in life” post since it’s been a couple minutes (ok, four years) since my last blog.

Let’s rewind to 2015. I was 25, working as a Management Services Administrator overseeing the medical credentialing company I started my career at when I was 19. I worked full time during my undergrad at MSU to earn my new position and was ECSTATIC. I finally felt like my degree(s) were the right choice and the investment in my Masters was worth it. Life was working in my favor. Great job, beautiful daughter that was just learning to crawl and walk. A new house..but still, life was not perfect. I started to feel my marriage slowlllllllly falling apart. It just didn’t feel the same---and it wasn’t. But that’s enough on that topic for now.

In February, I took a pregnancy test on a whim and it was positive. I’d be lying if I said I was ecstatic. I cried. I cried because I felt guilty that I was pregnant knowing my marriage wasn’t in a place that felt 100%. But nonetheless, how lucky was I to be able to be a mom again?

I feel like the entire pregnancy flew by, we didn’t find out the gender and that was literally THE BEST decision ever! Come October 27, my water broke around 1 a.m. (check out my delivery story for Delaney here if you like reading that sorta thing). I casually cleaned the house for two hours after that as I wasn’t having contractions (I know, I know—you’re supposed to get to the hospital ASAP if your water breaks for risk of infection). I will skip the delivery details for this one and just say that my beautiful Cohen Grey was born around 10 a.m. and was the BEST surprise ever (I was convinced it’d be another girl). I was released early the next morning and heading home……….or not.

On our way home, we were at the stop light at the main cross section just down the road from our neighborhood. As the story was told back to me over the years, I apparently was on the phone setting up Cohen’s first pediatrician appointment like a good new mom when my phone apparently flung onto the dash of the vehicle. I was having a seizure. I had never had one before—I have had optical migraines since I was 12 where I lose my vision and become violently ill. I had MRIs, etc and nothing ever came of them. I was rushed back to the hospital via ambulance (shout-out to the Windsor Township Medic team who met us in the driveway and took amazing care of me).

I woke up in a padded bed, air-pumps on my legs, and a wash cloth on my forehead because I was put on magnesium. For anyone that has had preeclampsia, you know that it makes you feel like you are ON.FIRE. I wasn’t allowed to hold my not-even-one-day-old son, and therefore, couldn’t nurse him. My diagnosis was that I had a post-eclamptic seizure.

Odd. Considering I didn’t have preeclampsia. No high blood pressure. Not a single time during the pregnancy, or my entire life for that matter. I was monitored for two days and released to go back home. As the days went on, I had a really hard time remembering things, my milk didn’t come in since I wasn’t able to nurse or pump for about a week after delivery and honestly, it was all SO.F’in. Traumatic.

Alright, let’s fast forward to summer 2016. The time when everything started to really crumble. Marriage was failing. I’m going to leave it at that—however, I’m an open book about my failures just as much as my successes, so feel free to message me in a private forum if you want to discuss that further.

I recall a summer day in August and I was going to go get groceries. I loaded Cohen into the car……and that’s it. That’s all I remember. I woke up on the couch. Completely unaware of anything. Delaney was sitting on the couch next to me. Mind you, she was just over 2 years old at the time. My head was pounding. My lip was bleeding and swollen. What the hell happened? 

Then I heard him. Cohen. Crying in the car. He’d been there this whole time. But how long had it been?

Another seizure. It’d been 10 months since my first one. Had it happened just minutes later I would have been driving to the grocery store. Both kids in the car. The whole thing still haunts me and it makes me cringe just typing it out.

You see, after I have a seizure (and I have grand mal) I wake up eventually and apparently know what I’m doing. For instance, after the first time I was able to answer all the medics questions about my delivery and this time, I had apparently known to go lay down). However, I never remember any of that. Remember when I said it seemed odd that my original diagnosis was related to my pregnancy? 

Yeah…that’s because it wasn’t.

After seeing my primary care doctor, I was referred to a Neurologist—another shout out to Mid-Michigan Neurology and Dr. Patel there. We did a whole slew of tests: MRI, CT, EEG. They said they would call me if anything seemed weird. No phone call, so I assumed everything was fine. As I strolled in casually for a check-in, I walked out sobbing. Diagnosis: Epilepsy. Dr. Patel showed me my brain activity and there were more spikes on that than a leather studded jacket worn by a member of KISS. What in the actual f? I walked out with a prescription for an anti-convulsant that I would then take everyyyyyyyyyyyy single day for potentially the rest of my life.

But, it wasn’t even THAT easy. As I started the drug, I noticed my neck was extremely sore. My lymph nodes were swelling….I was fricken allergic to it. I’ll quickly skip over the fact that I had to wean off that drug, had another seizure in a nail salon, another trip in an ambulance and hospital visit and then finally got put on a new drug. The same one I’m on to this day which has it’s own side-effects, but we’ll save that for another post; hintà anxiety.

Did I forget to mention that right before the diagnosis, I was served divorce papers? Oh, and then in October, I lost my job of eight years? When it rains, it pours to say the damn least. However, believe me when I say karma is a bitch, and I probably had it coming.

There’s a lot more detail, and I could go on and tell you about the constant back and forth of the year(s) after that that led me to Spring of this year, but it’s really not that exciting. Life was chaotic as ever. So let’s skip to some good stuff, shall we?

March 2018: The house.

I know a lot of you have been following my renovation story on the hideous-huge-country-wannabe farmhouse-ranch I bought this past spring. I distinctly remember walking into this house with my realtors—time for another shout-out to Shannon & Joe Howansky—they are the MVPs of my house shenanigans, but also very dear friends that have followed my crazy life journey since 2014. Anyway, we had like 6 houses lined up to see and this one was the most expensive and clearly needed the most work. I have no idea what drew me to want to see this house, honestly. Perhaps the endless space and all it’s weird quirks. We got here late and the owners were back home. Luckily, they agreed to leave for a bit to let me see the space. We walked in and all looked at each other, like “oh boy”…it needs help. But as we walked through, the ideas were flooding my mind. I was rambling off all these ideas to Shannon and she just gets me and understood exactly what I was saying. I’m fairly certain I asked her, “would you think I’m crazy if I said I loved it?”. Of course, she knew I was already sold on it.

I brought my mom back after calling her that night and explain that she’s going to think I’m a lunatic for wanting to spend this much money on a house that looks like it’s in the middle of a mid-life crisis and isn’t quite sure which decade it belongs to. But, as always, she supported my venture. After a bidding war and three other buyers, I found myself trying to prioritize which renos to do before moving in.

As most of you know, I chose to rip out all 3000 sq feet of mismatched carpet, have seven rooms painted, kitchen cabinets painted, kitchen back splash installed and completely gut the main bathroom/kids bathroom down to the studs. There is still SO much work to do, but it’s slowly and surely coming to life and I’m loving the process. I’m still fixing up the laundry/mud room and clearly, it’s taking me F-O-R-E-V-E-R, but I’m hoping to wrap that up soon.

Next up? I think it’ll be Randy’s man-cave. Who’s Randy you ask? He probably deserves his own post at some point, but just know he’s loved me in one of the most chaotic times of my life and for that, he too gets a special shout-out. I think we’re perfectly imperfect and our blended family is such a blessing.

I’ll share more about how we make it all work, between three kids, long-distance (ish) commutes, packed lunches, late dinners, family time, vacations, house renovations and still making time for us. More on that later.

I think you’re all caught up to speed, NOW we can get to the good stuff! Stay tuned!

Court