What the balance beam has taught me in life

Gymnastics is always on my mind but with the upcoming Olympics, it's been on my mind even more. To me it's one of the hardest, painful, most fun and most rewarding sport there is.

While I was considered an all-around gymnast in high school, there was one event I had a serious hate/not-hate-so-much relationship with: the balance beam.

When I was a freshman, I fell on a relatively easy leap and fractured my rib. After that, I admit, I was scared of the beam. I tried my hardest to get out of practicing it. If I could have, I would have gathered up all the beams in the world, made a huge bon fire and set a match to it--and it would've made me incredibly happy.

My hate for the beam went into my sophomore year. My scores weren't very good and at times I wasn't even in the top 5 on my team which created a problem. I was the only varsity all-around and my coach needed an all-around and only 5 gymnasts competed on varsity. My coach often gave me a hard time about my hatred for the beam.

Then something happened that shocked everyone. At sectionals, the meet to determine who goes to state, I had a no-fall beam routine--the routine of my life. Usually I fell at least once but not this time. I went to state! At state I fell off though. I placed 12th. If I hadn't fallen off, I would've made it into the top 8 and into the finals.

It was quite a shocker. I was so disappointed. I remember my coach asking me how I felt and when I told her I was disappointed in beam, she looked shocked. "Really? Tammy Gustafson, disappointed in beam?"

Suddenly the beam didn't look so bad.

I worked on beam a lot more and made a trip back to state on beam my junior year. I placed sixth that year, less than 3 tenths away from first.

My senior year, I went back to state and placed a solid fourth.

While I certainly had some positive moments, I also had some negative moments. I just missed out on a conference title on the beam my junior year because I fell--I got second. I missed out on a sectional title my senior year on the beam because I fell--I got fourth. While beam was considered my best event, I never achieved a major title. On all the other 3 events, I got at least one major title during my high school career.

It would be a far stretch to ever say I "loved" the beam. Seriously, how can you love something that if you slip even a slight centimeter can hurt you in the worst possible way? Every time I did a back handspring on it and my hands would get the beam so my head wouldn't, I'd breathe a huge sigh of relief. I knew missing my hands and landing head first was a very real possibility. I can't tell you how many times I've missed my feet, skinned up my legs and arms and crotched the beam (if you don't know what that means, I think you can figure it out---man, that hurt). The beam always gave me a sense of fear.

It also gave me a sense of accomplishment.

Those years of performing on beam has helped me in my every day life and learned valuable lessons even 10 (okay, okay, maybe more like 20) years later.

1. You will get hurt in life. How you respond to it determines how you succeed.
2. You will get scared in life. Do it anyway.
3. Just because you don't win, doesn't mean you aren't successful.
4. Things can change so fast. Take the disappointments, learn and move on. Success can be right around the corner.
5. Things can happen when you least expect them.
6. You'll get hit in the crotch and nothing hurts worse.

Most of all, I want Hannah to grow up knowing everything in her life is happening because it's meant to teach her something. Every success, every disappointment, every tear and every smile. I hope one day she can look back and realize what she has learned in her life even 5 (okay, okay 20 years) later.

And may she always know there is good out of everything---even crotching the beam. Okay, maybe that's going a little too far.

The worst disability

A couple years ago I met a family who has become like family to me. We met in the most awful way. Their family had been through the worst kind of tragedy---one sister was driving her 2 children and 2 nieces when she was in a terrible car accident, killing her daughter and 2 nieces and herself in a coma with a severe brain injury.

Their story touched my heart in a way no story ever had. I couldn't imagine what they were going through. Every day was a nightmare.

I started talking and supporting them and we became good friends. Oh, how I love this family so much.

About a year ago, I received a letter from the mom of one of the girls who was killed in the car. She thanked me for my support and love towards her family. She talked a bit about her sister's brain injury. She said "Brain injury affects everything. It's not on the surface so people do not see it as a disability. But from my learnings and experience, it's one of the WORST disabilities. Each and every day is different for her".

I'll never forget reading that. I remember closing my eyes and literally thanking God that with all the disabilities Mark had, he didn't have a brain injury. I just couldn't imagine that.

unfortunately I do now.

I think about those words from my friend so often now. Her words are so true. It really is the worst kind of disability. I've told people I'd go through the dialysis, kidney transplant, infertility, all that...all over again before I'd ever go through a brain injury.

It's hard to imagine sitting there watching someone you love not being able to do anything, having to literally have someone do everything for you. The not knowing was so hard. The doctors kept telling me it was too hard to tell what Mark would gain back and what he wouldn't.

So all we could do was wait. Wait and see what happened. He couldn't even smile. He couldn't squeeze his hand. What if that was the life of Mark now? What if he was totally dependent on me? I know he wouldn't want to live that way.

That first time Mark smiled in the hospital---priceless.

The first time he said my name---priceless.

The first time he squeezed my hand---priceless.

The first time he stuck out his tongue---priceless.

We had no idea how much he would get back. We have been very blessed that Mark has gotten so much back---much more than we thought he would.

Days are still so hard for him. He still has the balance issues which will never get better. He gets frustrated very easily and has angry outbursts---not the Mark before this brain bleed happened. In so many ways, he's starting over, having to learn new things, trying to remember things that came so easy for him.

Yes, a brain injury is the worst disability I could ever imagine. It's something I would never wish on my greatest enemy. Every day is a challenge. Every day you wake up not really knowing what to expect.

I'm so grateful to have my friends who truly understand.

A miracle to be alive

For a long time, so many people have told me Mark is very lucky to be alive.

I have to admit, I don't agree. While I think it's a miracle he's alive, I don't think he's lucky.

For the past many years, I have seen what a lot of people don't. I see Mark struggle in pain so much, more than others could ever imagine. I've seen him vomit for days and days, losing 20 pounds, from his gastroparesis. I've seen him fall countless times. I've seen his eye tests compared to my tests and I'm shocked at how little he truly does see.

Every day is a struggle for him. Every day he's in pain.

Every. Single. Day.

This will make me sound like a terrible, awful wife, but if I'm being honest, I often pray God will take him home. Yes, I do.

You see, I know Mark will have NO PAIN. He will SEE! He will be able to WALK! He will have no more diabetes! No pills, no shots.

And probably a mansion full of cars.

Knowing what his future holds, it's very hard for me to watch him suffer like he is.

I often ask God why Mark is still here. Why does he have to suffer when so many young children and amazing, helpful people in our community are taken away? A lot of times I struggle with "survivor's guilt".

Then it takes just a moment for me to realize as much as I love Mark, God loves him more. As much as I hate watching Mark suffer and struggle, God hates it more. I get very sad, very angry and cry a lot----and God doesn't want that for me.

Why is Mark still here? I have no idea. It truly is a miracle he is still here. There is no doubt about that. Medically speaking, he shouldn't be here.

But he is here for a reason. I remind myself that we aren't here for us. Our lives aren't our plan. They are God's plan. Our lives are for His good, for His plan.

So while I'm anxious for that day when I can finally ask God, "Why? Why was Mark suffering for so long? Why did you make him go through all that? Why didn't you take him home sooner?"----I can honestly say when God gives me his answer, it will all make sense.

And I will be honored He chose Mark and I for those reasons--for His glory.

For now, I can say it is an honor that I can be part of a true miracle of God. A miracle I can witness every day.

Mark is alive!

Gotcha Day 2016

My dearest sweet Hannah,

Four years. Wow. It's hard to fathom it was 4 years ago you legally became Hannah Dawn.

That day is so fresh in my mind. That day they called and said "Congratulations! Your daughter is legally yours!". We knew all the social work visits were over, adoption fees over, but most importantly you were our daughter and nobody could ever take you away from us.

An amazing feeling.

I know I'm not the perfect mom. Far from it. I've made plenty of mistakes. I know there are many times that I could've done better.

But on this day, I'm reminded that you were meant to be with us. I know your life would have been so much different with your birth mom. I know she loves you with all her heart and she knew life would be so hard for you with her. She loves you so much she wanted you to have a better life. That's a love few people experience and I hope you feel honored to know your birth mom loves you that much.

I know your life isn't always good. I know it's hard. I know you've been through a lot already in your short four years. Life certainly hasn't been fair to you.

I also know you are blessed. You have amazing family in your life. Family you've adopted, just like you were adopted.

Your life would've been so different with your birth mom. When I hear details, it makes me so relieved to know God chose us as your parents and the ones to raise you. One day you will learn the details of your birth mom and the life she has. My hope and prayer is that when you learn, you will come to realize how much your birth mom loves you--truly loves you with all her heart. And I hope you will pray for her every day just like I do.

Today we celebrate the day you legally became Hannah Dawn Wondra. We knew the day we opened up the email saying we were chosen that you were meant to be our daughter, but it was on this day the courts also knew. They knew you were ours, we would raise you the best way we could, and we would provide. Provide shelter, clothing, food, and most of all love---so much love.

It's a special day today Hannah. A day that is treasured so much by Mommy and Daddy. The day we "gotcha".

I can't wait to do what you want to do--see animals and play on a playground.

Enjoy sweetie. I love you so much. So happy we "gotcha".

Love,
Mommy