Inspiring Women "Living each day to BMOORE

You've heard me tell this story, most of you helped me start a movement in honor of it but you've never heard the story from the person who lived it. This year I had a baby, a baby with the love of my life and I get immense anxiety when I think of losing either of them. When I try to put myself in Jen's shoes my heart breaks. It breaks for her and it breaks for those kids. I've watched for the past couple years now, Jen, move through life, navigate without Brian, raise her kids, find her footing to survive on her own. She is one of the bravest people I know. It's true, when you haven't walked in the shoes of someone you can never truly understand the magnitude of what they've been though but I don't have to walk in her shoes to know that everyday she has to figure out how to push through without the person she vowed to spend her life with and thats enough for me to know she's amazing, brave and so incredibly strong. When I did this session, I wanted Jen to feel beautiful, I wanted her to feel strong and confident I wanted her for 1 minute to only be thinking about herself and having fun. The photos are beautiful and happy even though her journey was seemingly impossible. 

This family means so much to me, please take a moment to read her story. 

Life can seem hard and chaotic when you have 13, 11 and 8 yr old kids. Just the day in and day out of work, school, kids sports and activities.  However, all that was put into perspective June 20, 2012.  We truly had no idea what  hard and chaotic life was...but we were about to find out.  We were on the fast track to learning to value each and everyday, never taking for granted things that we used to and how precious time and life are. You see, after 12 years of marriage to my high school sweetheart we were told in the emergency department under the harsh fluorescent lights and the stiff stretcher bed with the curtain pulled that Brian had stage 3 Testicular cancer.  The tears come out of no where, the fear takes your mind and runs away with it all while you try to focus on what the next step is and how the hell you are going to get through this.  This was me, not even my husband who just discovered what was going in inside his body.

Without  chance to digest anything he was scheduled for his first surgery before we left the ED in less than 36 hours.  Following that came nephrostomy tubes (kidney drains) and the ever toxic chemotherapy that had him spending 5 hour days 5 times a week in the infusion center for 3 weeks and then 1 week recovery before starting all over again.  Just to keep things interesting he had a complication or infection every round that kept him in the cancer center of the hospital for 1 week every round.  Our life took a hard hit, for the kids and for me, but especially Brian.  Not once did he complain or say why me, but instead he strapped on his fighting gear and went in full force with the goal to win.  My kids and I flanked by his side were shown just how to live.  Life is not all about oneself, but about others, especially those you love, doing whatever it takes and never giving up.  Many, many days over the course of 2 1/2 years were spent going to work, going to the hospital, tending to the kids, maybe getting  few hours sleep and waking to repeat it all over again.  Was it easy, hell no, but what I do know is that if I had to spend everyday for the rest of my life like that to have Brian here there would be no hesitation.  Our life became doctor's appointments, blood work, CT scans, 3 major abdominal surgeries (one in Indianapolis), inpatient chemotherapy treatments that lasted 7 days at a time, our only out of the house ventures were to Wegmans or kids sporting events (or hunting for B!) and what seemed like hibernation was taking on the nasty disease that took my husband's life, leaving my kids with no dad on December 30, 2014.  

My little family of 5 was everything and although it was not perfect...it was my perfect, my happy.  We were robbed of that and I often feel like  toddler stomping her feet saying, "it's just not fair!"  Mind you, I know life isn't fair and I do not know and will probably never know why our little family endured what we did, but what hurts the most isn't for me, but for my kids...their dad will never walk through that door again, never get a call with the screen saying "Dad" again, he will never be on the sideline of games or at graduation or to walk our beautiful daughter down the aisle some day...this I cannot change and some believe that he can see them, to which I disagree, God wouldn't allow him the pain of seeing his family suffer and be sad without him. I would trade the worst divorce or any other scenario for him to be here with them. The one thing we do have is his legacy and it is a mighty big one.  He was known as "B" or "BMoore" to his friends and that was a campaign that Audra, bless her heart, started and how we carry on his legacy and live life everyday.

I try to BMoore by working hard, providing for my kids and helping see that we can love hard and succeed even though we are missing a huge part of us that can never be replaced.  You just cannot replace perfection, yes, B was perfection in a drive-me-crazy, spend-too-much-money, but life-loving, family-first kind of way.  So, after the crippling days of walking out of the hospital for the last time carrying my husband's belongings with my oldest son by my side and tears endlessly flowing down our faces  and a dark cloud loomed that I wasn't sure I was ever going to get out from under.  How was I supposed to do life without B, how was I supposed to rise 3 kids without B?  I just wanted to curl up in bed, on his side, with his pillow, in his clothes and never resurface until he was back.  The next day you wake up and go into auto-pilot because that is the only choice you have. Numb, I went to the funeral parlor, picked out Brian's plot at the cemetery and the clothes he would wear,  I braved the calling hours, the funeral , the burial...death is not cheap, financially, but emotionally it drains you clean and hollow...you might as well be dead yourself.  I plastered on a happy face for my kids or held them tight and cried, but the best thing I have ever done is talk about Brian. Everyday in some way he is talked about, he is a part of us and that will never fade.  For a year, I barely went anywhere except work or the kids functions as I didn't want to feel happy or have people look at me as the "widow" or feel sorry for me or ask if I was ok.  No, I wasn't ok and some days I still am not.  But on the one year mark of Brian's death I promised myself I would live life and enjoy even the smallest of things.  

That first cup of coffee, rainy day movies and gut laughing with my kids are some of the simplest.  The big things, my kids, they are the best of me and Brian and are my biggest accomplishment...gorgeous, smart, funny and sarcastic...I am in awe of them daily.  I set goals for myself to enjoy the things B did with the kids as that should not be lost.  I decided exercise and health would be my outlet for stress, I took up boxing, running (I hate it!) and crossfit.  I am becoming a better version of me, one day at a time, with my kids at my side and living each day to BMoore.

If you have a moment, in honor of the new year, take a moment and watch this video and then leave a comment here (or on FB) and tell us how you plan to BMOORE in 2018. 

https://youtu.be/YQYjZlgEU4E

Inspiring Women "This is my battle"

It's true, I'm terrible at blogging. This past year I've had a hard enough time just sharing my photos on social media let alone, blogging them. This project, Inspiring Women, I started awhile back and I've waited to share my next piece until I've had the time to devote to her story. This piece and project are extremely important to me and each part deserves my undivided attention. I could not be more proud of this incredible lady and her bravery who stepped WAY out of her comfort zone to get in front of my camera and trust me enough to share what she's been though.

Meet Rychalle:

Rychelle and I went to college together and have since kept in touch via social media, when I say this women has a pure heart of gold, there is not a single person who would disagree. "We all have a journey.  Some of us walk seamlessly and others encounter obstacles.  How we navigate our journey defines who we are and what we are willing to contribute to others."

"It was immediately after the birth of our second son, Gavin , in 2003 that I felt different.  Gavin wasn’t our first child, so I knew what to expect.  Our first son, Ryan, didn’t sleep as a newborn, was allergic to his formula and well, he was our first.  So I remember the exhausted.  I also remember how my body looked and felt.  This was different.  I left the hospital heavier than when I was admitted with Gavin.  I was more tired than I remembered with Ryan.  I dismissed it.  It was something I was going to address with my Dr at my 6 week checkup."

"When Gavin was 19 days old my world forever changed.   My mother called and told me that my little brother Michael was dead.  How could this be?  Michael was 25.  He was just over my house the night before for dinner.  He was fine.  What happened?   Michael died in his sleep from a pulmonary embolism.  The silent killer.  No family history.  This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.  He was supposed to be here.  How was I going to tell Ryan?  Ryan loved him.  How was I supposed to explain to a 2 year old that his Unkie was gone?  And Gavin.  He would never know his "Gentle giant” uncle.  Everyone loved him.  His smile was infectious.  His laugh was engaging.  He was larger than life.  Literally.  He stood 6’8”.  So there I was in a funeral home making arrangements.  My mother was inconsolable.  And my younger brother Kevin was numb.  I had to hold it together.  Losing your brother is a different kind of loss.  You never get over it, it just becomes different." 

"My body continued to betray me.  Even though I didn’t breast feed I was still producing milk.   The dr. kept telling me it was “normal”.  I was strictly following Weight Watchers and exercising 4x  a week.  But at the 6m mark I was 30lbs HEAVIER than the day I gave birth.  My Dr. and the people at Weight Watchers were retelling me that I wasn’t being honest with myself.  I was eating more than reporting and I really wasn’t exercising.   But I was.  My hair was falling out, I was constipated, my skin was dry and I was exhausted!   And there was something else.  My appearance started to change.  Not because of the weight (that’s what the Dr said it was from) but I looked different.  The structure of my face was changing. I had developed a “second” eyebrow bone.   My feet were growing and my hand size too.   My self-esteem was gone.  I no longer liked what I saw in the mirror. "

"When Gavin was 2 and Ryan was 4 I was 60lbs heavier, my shoe size was 2.5 sizes bigger, I had gaps in my teeth, and I could no longer wear my wedding or engagement rings.  A friend who had not seen me since college didn’t recognize me when he saw me.  He said my face changed.  I told the Dr’s all of this, but they didn’t listen.  They dismissed me. "

"I continued to try and find answers.  My body was fighting itself.  I hated her for that.  Why was she doing this to me? I hated the way I looked.  The way I felt.  I was bloated, tired, I had brain fog.  I didn’t look like a slither of my former self.  No matter what I did nothing worked.  My Dr. thought it was all my thyroid.  I was hypo, had nodules, and Hashimotos.  I was on levothyroxine but my levels never stabilized.  I was accused of not taking my meds, being a hypochondriac, and stimulating my nipples to produce milk.  WHAT!?!?!?!?!?  ENOUGH!!!!!"

"In late 2009 a Dr listened.  She simply said, “I think you have a pituitary tumor”.  Guess what?  I did.  On October 15, 2010 I had brain surgery.  The recovery was horrific.  But it was worth it.  I felt like myself again.  All the physical changes would not go back to what they were before, but I felt good.  Things didn’t last long.  In 2012 the tumor returned.  And now because the tumor was undiagnosed for so long my thyroid was severely damaged.  It’s a constant struggle."

I think I should also mention here, because it's important to understand that while Rychelle was going though all of this herself, life kept going and she continued to care for so many others around her. She was the primary caregiver for her mother, who had been diagnosed with vascular dementia and was working full time as a direct advocate for children with significant mental illness who had been exposed to severe emotional, physical or sexual trauma. 

"Over the course of my journey I have struggled with self-worth, self-value, self-esteem, self-love, hope, acceptance and understanding.  I have questioned my sanity.  I have questioned my ability to mother.   But I have also learned to true meaning of love, hope, acceptance, faith, understanding and the ability to ask for help.   My husband Brian has stood by my side the entire time.  He has NEVER questioned how I felt or what I was doing.  But most of all he loved me.  He accepted me.  Although this disease has physically changed me it didn’t take away who I am as a person.  And that is what he tells me.  He tells me I am still self-less, loyal, honest, witty, compassionate and beautiful.  That is what he fell in love with.  I have gained and lost friends because of this disease.  I rarely complain of how I feel.  Because it could be worse.  But those who have stood by me believe in me and love me.   They know when I am hurting.  They know when I am at my limit.  They know when I need them.  I don’t get to see some of my strongest supporters often.  But when I do it like we were never apart. "

"As women we need to respect our bodies.  We need to listen to our souls.   The good, the bad, and the not so pretty.  Our bodies tell a story.  Some stories are long.  Some are short.  But they are our stories.  All stories are worth reading and sharing.  I no longer think of myself as beautiful,.  I think of myself as a warrior.   This is my battle. "

When I put out my casting call to find women willing to get in front of my camera and willing to share some very vulnerable journeys, words can't describe the happiness I felt when Rychelle responded. She came in with an open mind, she trusted me and she rocked this shoot like the amazing warrior she is. 

Thank you Rychelle, thank you for telling us your journey and opening yourself up. You are truly beautiful and I am even more thankful to call you a friend. I am so glad, so many years ago, our paths crossed at Bonaventure.

Rychelle, a fighter, a rock, an inspiration, a truly generous soul whose beauty reflects not just on the inside but on the outside too.