This post will probably be one of my least favorites.
It doesn't have sweet pictures of our baby, or memories from a special day.
It's a difficult, heartsick, sad, happy, scary, exciting, overwhelming (every emotion possible!)... kind of post.
A hard one to write.
And it's crazy long. A lot of information.
And it's crazy long. A lot of information.
In the spring of 2013, Troy began to explore career options in medicine/pathology. For several months, we....together... talked about what he wanted as a physician.... what we wanted for our family... and how he could become the best pathologist that he could be.
The Louisville medical community is all we have known. Medical school and Residency have been good to him. We feel they trained him well.
But now it's time to specialize in his field. To be trained by the best. To think about all of the major decisions that he will make....regarding the lives of so many patients. The diagnoses he will call, the malignant, the benign, the "I've seen this a million times," and the "what in the world is this?" There is nothing easy about "you have cancer..." not for the patient, the family... and though we never think of it.... not for the physician who has trained many years to determine it. I can't imagine signing my name at the bottom of that report.
After lots of prayer (CRAZY amounts of prayer), Troy began to research 1 year Surgical Pathology Fellowships (for the 2015-2016 year) throughout the country. And there were many prestigious programs. We knew that he could greatly benefit from such training, but the idea of leaving everything we know.... and more importantly....everyone we love.... was terrifying.
Even if just for one year.
To quickly summarize some of this journey.... Troy went on several interviews... then we found out that we were expecting.... then his father passed...
and then...
.... then there was Texas.
Big, scary, 14 hour drive from Louisville, largest medical center in the world....
Houston, Texas.
We buried Troy's father, and a few days later, he was on a plane to Houston for an interview.
He called me from the hotel room, hours before the meeting. He was grieving, sad, overwhelmed, and he said that he had no idea what he was doing there. He wanted to come home. He didn't want to leave our family and friends.... he didn't want to take our soon to be baby away from Louisville (I was 3 months pregnant). He wanted to come home. I told him to take a deep breath and just "get through the interview." To let go of the pressure of having to train at such a prestigious program.... to just do what he went to do (even though he now didn't want it), and get home. We agreed to continue to pray for direction and peace, and off he went.
And then.... the One truly in control, intervened.
Troy, grieving his father, sad and confused, walked into Methodist hospital, looked up...and for the first time, felt comfort and peace. In the middle of this hospital stood a large cross.... not just any cross...a cross surrounded by a flame. The very symbol of the United Methodist faith. The very faith his father had preached his entire life....the very symbol that we had buried his father with a few days earlier.
That evening, Troy called me while on his way to Houston International Airport. He said he was headed home.... and that after a long day of interviews, he strongly believed...
that he had just found our next home.
He knew this is where we were supposed to be next.
He received a phone call, and an offer before even boarding the plane.
That was year and half ago.... (you interview very early for positions like this)... and now...
we're here.
It's already time.
In 7 short weeks, we will embark on an entire new journey.
On a good day.... I know of what an incredible opportunity this is for Troy and our family. And I'm so proud of him. He landed a spot at an Ivy League affiliated hospital. He'll be trained with the physicians that do not just read the text books.... but write them. On a good day, I'm excited for all of the new things that Walt will get to see an do. On a good day, I'm reminded of how fortunate we are to be able to live somewhere else for awhile .... how fortunate we are to be given the experiences of such a big city with so much to offer. On a good day, I think "we're just 25 minutes from the beach..." and "I can't wait to visit this museum, and this park, and this restaurant." On a good day, this is a beautiful opportunity.... a blessing.
And then there are the sad days.... when I wonder how in the world I'll ever be able to do this. I wonder how I'll ever leave my home, the only place I've ever known... and above all, my family.
The thought of being away from our friends and family nearly crushes me. I often think that I'll never make it through it.
And I know that people do it every day. And I know that it's just for a year. And I know that this is small compared to the grand scheme of things...
I know, I know, I know.
But it's not small to me.
In case you haven't noticed..... my family (and friends that are family), are my life. And not just the "I love them very much" kind ..... but the ...I need to be with them.... I need to hold them and hug them and be in their presence, kind. I don't just need to see them for holidays or special occasions... I need them for the every day things.... the "hey, what are you doing...because I'm pulling into your driveway..." and the "this is last minute, but want to meet for dinner tonight" ..... kind of things.
Troy and I are not the only ones who are sad to leave.
The ones nearest and dearest to our hearts have known about this for quite some time. They've had a year and a half to process it all.... and it's still so hard.
My parents live within walking distance of our current home. Telling them that we would be leaving, still remains one of the hardest conversations I've ever had to have. As proud as they are of us for landing this opportunity... they are equally as devastated that we'll no longer be minutes away. We all still cry over the thought of it.
And telling our friends, was just as hard. I still don't like the restaurant that we were sitting in, when we broke the news to Sam & Jason. My dear friend... who is typically very poised and composed..... sat in the restaurant chair, and sobbed.
Telling each friend or family member came with its own version of emotions and heartache.
To say that we're busy right now, is a major understatement.
The closing date on our home is a month earlier than our arrival date in Houston. We'll need to be out of the house, before it's time to leave. So we'll be moving not once, but twice. First, to my parents for a month... and then we'll make the big move to Texas.
We're in the process of packing up our home, closing out things in Louisville, flying to Houston to search apartments.... sorting, organizing, labeling and trying to make this happen....
all with a baby on our hip. ;)
A big adventure means big work.
On our busiest, most emotional days, Troy and I have to often stop and remind one another that this has been planned for us. By the One who is truly in control.
And as cliche as it sounds.... I can't help but to think of Papa George (Troy's father) in all of this too. To think that days after burring him, Troy interviewed at the hospital founded on the doctrine that his father practiced.
And that during that interview, still laid a bouquet of roses on his burial site.
The roses that Papa George specifically requested in his final will and testament.
He asked for ... "yellow roses..... after one of my favorite songs, that makes me think of my sweetheart... I want the 'Yellow Rose of Texas'."
Texas ....
here we go.
Even if just for one year.
To quickly summarize some of this journey.... Troy went on several interviews... then we found out that we were expecting.... then his father passed...
and then...
.... then there was Texas.
Big, scary, 14 hour drive from Louisville, largest medical center in the world....
Houston, Texas.
We buried Troy's father, and a few days later, he was on a plane to Houston for an interview.
He called me from the hotel room, hours before the meeting. He was grieving, sad, overwhelmed, and he said that he had no idea what he was doing there. He wanted to come home. He didn't want to leave our family and friends.... he didn't want to take our soon to be baby away from Louisville (I was 3 months pregnant). He wanted to come home. I told him to take a deep breath and just "get through the interview." To let go of the pressure of having to train at such a prestigious program.... to just do what he went to do (even though he now didn't want it), and get home. We agreed to continue to pray for direction and peace, and off he went.
And then.... the One truly in control, intervened.
Troy, grieving his father, sad and confused, walked into Methodist hospital, looked up...and for the first time, felt comfort and peace. In the middle of this hospital stood a large cross.... not just any cross...a cross surrounded by a flame. The very symbol of the United Methodist faith. The very faith his father had preached his entire life....the very symbol that we had buried his father with a few days earlier.
That evening, Troy called me while on his way to Houston International Airport. He said he was headed home.... and that after a long day of interviews, he strongly believed...
that he had just found our next home.
He knew this is where we were supposed to be next.
He received a phone call, and an offer before even boarding the plane.
That was year and half ago.... (you interview very early for positions like this)... and now...
we're here.
It's already time.
In 7 short weeks, we will embark on an entire new journey.
On a good day.... I know of what an incredible opportunity this is for Troy and our family. And I'm so proud of him. He landed a spot at an Ivy League affiliated hospital. He'll be trained with the physicians that do not just read the text books.... but write them. On a good day, I'm excited for all of the new things that Walt will get to see an do. On a good day, I'm reminded of how fortunate we are to be able to live somewhere else for awhile .... how fortunate we are to be given the experiences of such a big city with so much to offer. On a good day, I think "we're just 25 minutes from the beach..." and "I can't wait to visit this museum, and this park, and this restaurant." On a good day, this is a beautiful opportunity.... a blessing.
And then there are the sad days.... when I wonder how in the world I'll ever be able to do this. I wonder how I'll ever leave my home, the only place I've ever known... and above all, my family.
The thought of being away from our friends and family nearly crushes me. I often think that I'll never make it through it.
And I know that people do it every day. And I know that it's just for a year. And I know that this is small compared to the grand scheme of things...
I know, I know, I know.
But it's not small to me.
In case you haven't noticed..... my family (and friends that are family), are my life. And not just the "I love them very much" kind ..... but the ...I need to be with them.... I need to hold them and hug them and be in their presence, kind. I don't just need to see them for holidays or special occasions... I need them for the every day things.... the "hey, what are you doing...because I'm pulling into your driveway..." and the "this is last minute, but want to meet for dinner tonight" ..... kind of things.
Troy and I are not the only ones who are sad to leave.
The ones nearest and dearest to our hearts have known about this for quite some time. They've had a year and a half to process it all.... and it's still so hard.
My parents live within walking distance of our current home. Telling them that we would be leaving, still remains one of the hardest conversations I've ever had to have. As proud as they are of us for landing this opportunity... they are equally as devastated that we'll no longer be minutes away. We all still cry over the thought of it.
And telling our friends, was just as hard. I still don't like the restaurant that we were sitting in, when we broke the news to Sam & Jason. My dear friend... who is typically very poised and composed..... sat in the restaurant chair, and sobbed.
Telling each friend or family member came with its own version of emotions and heartache.
To say that we're busy right now, is a major understatement.
The closing date on our home is a month earlier than our arrival date in Houston. We'll need to be out of the house, before it's time to leave. So we'll be moving not once, but twice. First, to my parents for a month... and then we'll make the big move to Texas.
We're in the process of packing up our home, closing out things in Louisville, flying to Houston to search apartments.... sorting, organizing, labeling and trying to make this happen....
all with a baby on our hip. ;)
A big adventure means big work.
On our busiest, most emotional days, Troy and I have to often stop and remind one another that this has been planned for us. By the One who is truly in control.
And as cliche as it sounds.... I can't help but to think of Papa George (Troy's father) in all of this too. To think that days after burring him, Troy interviewed at the hospital founded on the doctrine that his father practiced.
And that during that interview, still laid a bouquet of roses on his burial site.
The roses that Papa George specifically requested in his final will and testament.
He asked for ... "yellow roses..... after one of my favorite songs, that makes me think of my sweetheart... I want the 'Yellow Rose of Texas'."
Texas ....
here we go.
