Worth More than Gold

(Sometimes videos don't appear on all devices, so if you don't see the music video above "Worth More than Gold" by Britt Nicole, click here!)

A couple of weeks ago I was really struggling with a negative comment that was made to me in regards to my birthmark.  Some days I can easily laugh the negative things off that strangers say and do in reaction to my face, while others day it's not so easy to find the humor.  During this specific day and from a specific interaction, I allowed a stranger to take to my undesired, seldom visited, low place.

An hour later I got into my car.  I was feeling discouraged while questioning my value when it comes to my unique appearance.  I found myself questioning if it'd be easier if I hide who I am by expensive and uncomfortable make up, wondering if that would help me become more valuable in society's eyes…All while forgetting the countless beauties that come with my difference and the value that I have always had, and will always have, in God's eyes.

At the same time, I was (truthfully) beyond frustrated.  I was angry that more often than I prefer, strangers can't seem to talk to me as a person, focusing away from my birthmark…Forgetting that they can get to know the greater level of depth that I have - whether they ask me how I'm doing, about my summer plans, or even about my favorite hobby.

During a venting session taking place only in my mind during my drive home, I thought, "Don't people (strangers, specifically), realize there is more to me than the color of my face??   Why do they always assume it's okay to respond to what they see in certain, negative ways - or that I only want to talk about my birthmark?  Don't they realize I may have cool stories about traveling, that I may love to bake, and have exciting hopes for my life?  I'm just like any person.  I'm just like them…Why do they so easily forget that??"  Sometimes it feels as though some people treat me as though I'm only half a person, just because of half my face.

When I got into my car about an hour after this specific experience, I heard this song come on the radio.  I had heard the song before, but hadn't really listened to it.

This song is just what I needed in that moment.   It was the perfect reminder!!

I needed to hear that no matter what strangers say, no matter how they react, I'm worth more than gold.  I needed that reminder!!

My worth isn't in the way I'm treated by others, or in the way they talk to me…or in some cases, in the way they don't talk to me (that's a story to look forward to for my next blog entry).

My worth is based off so much more than a few opinions, stares, and remarks I receive from other people...and I can't ever forget that - and I should never let anyone let me feel any less, like I did that day.   I don't have to hide who I am to make other people more comfortable.  The way others treat me does not define me.  If anything, it gives me a glimpse into their heart and opens many doors to help educate those that I meet.

More importantly??  Through these experiences I feel as though I am constantly (on a daily basis) learning about what it truly means to be kind to others  - no matter if they're kind to me or not - and I think that adds to my value.  (Granted, I have to admit...sometimes it takes a couple of lessons to learn whatever I'm suppose to learn!)

Maybe you need a bit of encouragement too, or a reminder.  While the worth and value of gold fluctuates by human standards throughout the ages of time, our value and worth in God's eyes is always constant.  He always sees our true worth, even when we can't see it ourselves…and no matter how high gold is valued here on earth at any given time  - we are always worth so much more.

Whatever your struggle is I want you to know, "you're worth more than gold"…and I hope you never forget that either!

The Travelin' Chick,
Crystal

No One Compares to You

A cool thing happened today as I was leaving work.

As I was walking out of the office doors towards my car, a woman stopped to talk to me.  I've only met the lady once - several months ago - and have seen her on and off throughout the last semester or two.  (Not that it matters for this blog update, but I don't even know her name.  I just know we work at the same place but that we've also never really held a discussion before.)

When she stopped me, she unexpectedly told me something along the lines of, "I just wanted to let you know - you inspire me.  I know what you do…I know you go to the different classrooms to tell them about your birthmark.  You see...I have a bunch of scars that make me extremely self-conscious - and I absolutely dislike wearing short sleeve shirts because of how self-conscious they make me.  I'm being tested to see if I have lupus…which I don't think I have...but my doctors are totally clueless as to why I scar so easily.  I get so self conscious over my scars, but then I heard about you and your 'imperfection' and how you handle it…teaching others and being confident with it…persevering.  It has really helped and inspired me."

Oh...and the lady?  Today she was wearing a tank top.

You never know how others are being affected by you and your story.  You never know who is watching, who is listening.

I know that I am often able to help teach children about my birthmark.  Nearly every day I walk away from my work with a cute kid quote about a question they ask me about it (like my favorite, "did you get it from eating a hamburger?"), or a story about how I was able to help them understand my birthmark.

I know the children are listening.   I know they're watching.  But I realized today that I forgot about the adults around me.  The grownups - my peers.

Truthfully, I often forget I am different than everyone else on the outside - until someone points it out…and normally it's not pointed out in a positive way.  I forget that I have a unique story that most don't get to tell or experience.

To me, my story is normal.  My story is boring.  My story is my daily life.  It's the story I grew up with.  It's the only story I've experienced and fully know.

However, today's positive moment reminded me that in some ways, if I embrace it in the right way, if I don't let it bring me down or discourage me,  I can, I will, and I do have a powerful and slightly incredible story…and an extraordinary way to reach, educate, and connect with other people.

Today  I was reminded that to other, my story is not boring.  To others my story can be seen as interesting and mysterious.  It can be seen as an encouragement.

We all have our unique situations - the good ones, the bad, and those that are in-between.

How are you going to allow these situations to affect your life?  I hope you'll let them affect you for the positive.  You never know the impact you can make if you embrace your situations, persevere, and find the positive.  You never know who is watching…who is listening.  Even if you make a difference in one person's life…It's all worth it, right??  You never know the domino affect and legacy your story may have, just by changing the life of one other person.

I don't know how the lady knows my story.  We barely even know each other.  I don't even know her name.

I don't know how she knows that I sometimes go to different classrooms to teach the children about my facial difference…but I know that somehow, she does know.  I know that at some point she's listened.  She's watched.

Please note, I am not posting today's story in attempts of bragging.  That's not my desire at all.

If you're anything like me - you have a tendency to downplay how special you are.  You forget or ignore how valuable you are as a person.  You ignore your true beautiful worth, comparing yourselves to others with a measuring stick while thinking, "Oh wow.  That other person has done so much with their life…What can I show for mine??  I'll never be as talented or as influential as them.  I'll never be able to be like them."  (I have a horrible habit of doing this.)

I only want to encourage you - no matter your story…Your story is special.  Your story is unique.  It is extraordinary…And more importantly: You are extraordinary. You are special and unique.  You have value…and no one compares to you.

The Travelin' Chick,
Crystal

PS: If you want to read more about what I do when I visit classrooms to talk about my birthmark, and my goal in doing so, please read Breaking Down the Box.

My Lips Will be Sealed

I'm totally stepping out of my comfort zone
(in a major way)by posting this
photo…but this is how my lips
shut if I don't make the extra effort
to close them.

At this point, for those of you who follow me on Facebook and here on my blog, you all know that I am having laser treatments for my port-wine stain birthmark. In just a few weeks I'll probably be having another one.

During the next treatment we're going to do something I don't recall ever doing before - even from my treatments as a child. For the next treatment, I will arrive earlier than usual so they can numb my lip so that my lip will be treatable.

That's right. They're going to "beam up" my left-upper lip.

It doesn't sound pleasant, but we'll see how it goes. (I'm actually a bit nervous about it.)

When looking at my lips, it is easy to tell that they are not symmetrical. My right lip (the side without the birthmark) is smaller and thinner. It doesn't close all the way because the left side is too heavy and bulky. (This may not be obvious to those of you I only see in the digital world as, just like any woman, I look for my favorite photos - which usually avoid showing that aspect.)  If I want my lips to close all the way, I have to make an extra conscious effort for my lips to fully be sealed…and even then my attempt is not always successful.

I've asked my doctor about my lip many times in the last couple of years, "Is there anything we can do to help with this?" The doctors have told me that we can treat the lip, but more than likely there are no other options.

Many of you ask, "Why do you have the treatments? You're beautiful just the way you are!" While the treatments lighten my birthmark - that's not my overall goal at all.

My goal is not, "I'm going to have more laser treatments to lighten the birthmark so I can finally feel and be beautiful!!"…I have never thought like that. I'm okay with my birthmark. Sure, if I didn't have it, I could easily avoid a lot of frustrating situations - but I am okay with who I am…and that includes my "stain". I also enjoy being able to teach others a unique way many people can't.  (Although, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have my bad days.) If you read my post How Light is too Light??, you'll know that I struggle with the idea of my birthmark seeming invisible, and knowing how light is "too light".  

So why do I continue to do these painful and uncomfortable treatments? As I age, my blood vessels in the birthmark grow and enlarge, resulting in a lot of possible issues that can arise. Without the treatments, my birthmark’s color will darken as I age. It can even get larger in size. As the blood vessels grow and expand, my skin can also do the exact same thing, resulting in a pebble-stone type of texture. My skin can also harden because of the vessels and bleed for no apparent reason, once hardened. I am having the treatments to avoid all of this. Once all this happens - if it happens - the damage is done. There is no going back to smooth, soft, and “normal" skin. If I don't do the treatments and the hardening, pebble-stone, and excess random bleeding starts taking place, I can't undo it.

Another very likely possibility (that has been predicted by many medical professionals) for my future? My lip will continue to grow. It will continue to droop and sag, even more than it does now. Hence starting the process of treating it.

Fun fact? I didn’t know most of this information that until I started to do my own research a couple of years ago.  No one told me the risks of not treating the birthmark.  This is why I started doing my treatments again. This information has been my motivation in the most painful moments of a laser treatment.

When you grow up with a birthmark on your face, many things aren't really explained to you directly. As a baby, I was clueless and things were explained to my parents. As a child, they again, were explained to my parents. As a child, although I was somewhat aware, I still was kind of clueless to my difference and didn’t really care. I knew I was different , that people stared, made comments, and that I occasionally had treatments…but I think I focused on the outward appearance of my difference and not the medical reasons for them. When I was a teenager, I was a lot more aware but again, didn't focus on the medical causes, symptoms, or explanations of it.

Anyways…back to the point of this update.

Although I'll be treating my lip, the current damage has already been done. It is drooping and the treatments will not fix this problem. That being said, my doctor has recommended me to a plastic surgeon for reconstructive type of surgery for my lip.

Let me be clear: I don't want "new" lips. I just want them to be more symmetrical. I want to be able to fully close my lips with ease, instead of having to deal with the facial abnormalities that the birthmark causes.

Three professionals (my laser treatment specialist doctor, the laser treatment nurse, and my primary care physician) have told me that the plastic surgeon probably can't do anything to help. They'd probably be unwilling to try because my lip can continue to grow and become heavier, bulkier, and more droopy.  If my lip continues to do that, why try to fix it if my lip will later return to it's current state?  To summarize: In their opinion, it's practically a hopeless venture.

Well, today I had my appointment with the surgeon. I decided it never hurts to try or to ask…right?? (While I know it never hurts to ask, I was still nervous. I pretty much expected having to go in with a strong defense of why I feel this is necessary and the medical benefits of having my lip adjusted.)

The man was super kind as he measured my lips and assessed them. (I’m pretty sure that’s the strangest sentence I’ve ever written. Seriously.) I really liked the doctor as he really listened and seemed open to what I had to say.

At the end of the appointment, the doctor told me he was willing to give it a try! First, however, he wants me to go through one laser treatment where they laser the lip. He wants to see the affect the laser has on my lip. If it seems to shrink the lip (which, I’ve been told in the past that it won’t do that. Again, once the damage is done – it is done. But who knows? We could all be in for a surprise.) then he doesn’t think it’ll be necessary. But, if there seems to be no change in size after the next laser treatment then he is happy to continue towards a surgery to assist me in reconstructing the lip. He basically told me, “performing this surgery on you is no different than doing it on someone with a clef lip.”

If we do a reconstructive type surgery, he will basically go in and remove some of the extra tissue that is causing the extra puffiness. He only wants to take a little at a time, as he does not want to take too much. He told me, “It’s easier to take a little at a time. If you take too much, that’s a lot more work to fix.”

(Also, random note, this doctor even observed, “I’m noticing that for you to close your lips completely – you really have to compress the extra tissue.”)

I don’t know how this will all go down and how it will turn out. I’m mostly telling you all this as it is a part of the journey.

Ironically, my laser treatments are lightening the birthmark enough that people are starting to pay more attention to things like my lip. It seems as though I’m getting more questions at the school where I work, or by new people, “What’s wrong with your lip?” (Don’t get me wrong – I’m still being questioned about the purple birthmark itself. But I think, as of right now, those questions have decreased in amount while the others have been increased.)

I’ve always been more annoyed and self-conscious about my lip – more than I am with my birthmark (funny, isn’t it?)…but I think it’s mostly because I can’t even close the lips – and because I know the ability to close them will become harder as I age. I think if my lips could do the simple task of just closing, it would be a different story.

Having about three doctors tell me that more than likely no surgeon would be willing to operate was discouraging…Yet, the one I saw today was instantly more than happy to do so. I can’t even begin tell you how encouraged I feel after this appointment. 

While this may not seem exciting to some (and many of you may frown upon it, as I know some frown upon my doing the laser treatments), I am stoked.

The Travelin’ Chick,
Crystal


PS: I’ll update you when I know more – probably in 1 ½ or 2 months, after I see the doctor again about a month after my next treatment.

PSS: I still need to write a blog entry about questions some of you have asked me in the last couple of months. I just haven’t gotten to that yet, and I apologize. I have a few more questions of my own to ask my doctor before posting what I have already started, so if you happen to have a question – feel free to ask! I’ll include it. I’m practically an open book about my birthmark, whether you’re curious about the experience, medical technicalities, treatments, or even the emotional and mental processing of it all.

Extraordinary Lessons from an Extraordinary Language

For nearly half my life, I was certain that I was meant to go and live overseas full-time. Since I was about 13-years-old, it has always been my dream to travel abroad, pencil, paper, and camera in hand.  I wanted to capture what's going on around the world - stuff that the general media doesn't necessarily focus on.  I wanted to travel and share the tell stories of those around the world, and to tell of what God is doing with His people.  I’ve spent the last 9 years preparing myself for this journey. I’ve travelled, lived overseas, read books, lived overseas, and studied about mission work, journalism, and anthropology. 

Little did I know…That dream would later be molded to look a little different.

The city of where I live has many cultures within its borders. We are a huge melting pot, a huge tossed salad. I have American, Hmong, Mexican, Chinese, British, and French natives as neighbors. Yet, when I thought about working with other cultures, these local culture diversities never came to my mind as a group to work with.

It wasn’t until I started to learn about ASL, Deaf Culture, and the Deaf community, that I started to feel passionate about working with a local culture different from my own…A culture within my culture. A cultural group I’ve somehow unintentionally overlooked for most of my life.

Growing up, I had been slightly aware that there were Deaf people. The TV show 7th Heaven had a character by the name of Heather in their show. My sister started learning ASL in her late teen years and often signed in front of me, and we had a lady in church who use to use ASL as a ministry in our church.  My high school teacher also taught ASL and had an occasional Deaf student come to meet her while I was still at school.

It wasn’t until I took an ASL class  myself that I really started to see ASL - and the Deaf community. In the past I acknowledged that the language was there, but I really didn’t put much thought into what I was seeing. I was young and had yet to fully be educated on the topic.

ASL is a beautiful language and is greatly valued by the respectable and brilliant Deaf community.

I accidently fell in love with ASL. Before taking my first ASL class, I was journalism major…And now I’m not. (And I know that change shocked many people who have known me nearly all my life, including myself.)  Now I hope to become skilled enough in the language to become an interpreter. This has been a wonderful, unexpected journey that I’m glad I’ve been on for the last two years.

While learning about the wonderful culture and language, I’ve also learned a lot of other life lessons while learning this language.

Lessons I’ve learned while learning my second language, ASL:

1. My goal is to become an interpreter and I’ve learned that I really need to protect my ears. I now pay extra attention to how loud I listen to my music…In a sense, my ears are no longer just a part of my body allowing me to hear different sounds and conversations. My ears are a part of my future career. My ears are now a bridge for communication for others. They are no longer my own, as my career choice will allow me to help hearing people connect with those who are Deaf. (Although, I have to admit, I still have fun jamming sessions while driving down the road with friends on occasion.)

2. I’m a perfectionist, never wanting to make an error. But…Life is full of mistakes, just like the process of learning a second language. I’ve learned that it’s okay to mess up. It’s okay to make an error. It’s okay to make language bloopers! If I mess up while trying to sign something, it’s okay to acknowledge them, have a good laugh, and to learn from them. For example - last semester I was trying to tell my ASL teacher, Nancy, that I was feeding my aunt’s cat while she was away in Hawaii. Instead, the way I signed it came across completely different than I intended. Nancy’s face when from a shock and horrified expression, causing me to wonder, “Oh no…What did I just say??” Turns out, I told her I was eating my aunt’s cat…not feeding it!! (It’s amazing how one direction and movement of a sign can change the whole meaning! Oops!) While I felt slightly embarrassed, Nancy and I just sat in her office laughing about it and months later it’ll still be brought up as a joke. The error caused a good laugh, but more importantly? I took my mistake as a great learning experience and am now very aware of how to sign that I am feeding an animal, or person, without saying I am eating them.

3. Learning ASL has taught me to focus. It has taught me to focus on the person I’m in front of, to fully dedicate myself to the moment I am with my Deaf friends or in my ASL classes. Instead of pulling out my phone to check for text messages, I am intentional and I focus. For example…Let’s say that I’m with a group of Deaf friends. If I pull out my phone to check for messages and I take the time to respond, I’ve probably just missed a good chunk of what my friends are trying to tell me. Learning ASL has taught me to put my phone – and any other distractions – away. It has taught me to prioritize the moment I’m in and the person I am with.

4. I’ve learned to ASK questions!! Although I have a good background of ASL classes, I am not fluent. I’ve learned that if I don’t understand something – I need to ask for my friends and teachers to repeat what they’ve signed. If I don’t catch their fingerspelling, I need to ask them to repeat it and to slow down. If I don’t understand a sign, I need to ask for the sign’s definition. Learning that it is okay to ask questions has made a big impact in my life. I’ve noticed that this new habit even transfers to my other classes, like math. I’m no longer timid or shy on asking for assistance in understanding things.

Every now and then, my brain does kind of space out. For example…The other week I was talking with one of my teachers between classes. She was telling me that her pool was having problems as something was broken, and that it would cost her ‘X’ amount of dollars to do. I caught all of what she was saying – except the fingerspelling of what was broken. (Although I’ve seen improvement in my reading of fingerspelling, I still need to do a lot of work on improving my skillset even more.) Before I knew it, my teacher was asking me, “Did you understand what I just said?” The thing is, I did understand most of it…but not all of it. I asked her to repeat what she had told me, and she basically told me, “That’s why I thought. I know you well now – you get a look when you’re not understanding what I’m saying.”

It’s not that I intentionally wasn’t telling her I didn’t understand all that she signed to me. That’s not it at all. I want to understand what my teachers and friends are telling me. It’s not fair to my friend and/or teachers if I pretend like I know what their saying if I’m sitting their completely lost…and it’s not fair to myself either. The more ASL classes I’ve taken, the more I’ve gotten comfortable asking questions. Sometimes though, like the other day, my brain just goes into, “Oh man! I didn’t catch the fingerspelling”, mode…In turn, making my brain go into processing mode, trying to process what I just saw, just like this example from earlier in this semester. (Sometimes I don’t even realize that I have no idea what someone just told me until the conversation is over and I’ve already walked away. Can you say “spaz moment”??)

After my teacher repeated what she told me, I realized I did catch all that she told me and understood everything…everything but the fingerspelling of the word “pump”. Her pool pump is the cause of her pool problems.

The more I interact with those who are Deaf, the more I am trying to become aware of my signing and processing habits, and the ones I need to keep – or break.

5. Number four basically plays into number five. Learning ASL has taught me that I shouldn’t assume what someone is telling me. If I’m not sure, I need to ask questions. I need to seek clarity.

6. Learning ASL has taught me about worship. Again, I’m not fluent - yet. I’m not yet an interpreter. However, when Sunday morning comes along and I find myself sitting in a church pew as the worship team leads the congregation into a song, I often find myself thinking instead of singing. I don’t know a lot interpreting music, but I do know you have to understand the meaning to have the ability to interpret what is being said, or what is being sung.

During our worship time at church, I find myself sitting in the back pew trying to figure out how I would sign different lyrics. I find myself thinking, “What does this song mean?? Do I really understand what I am – and what I have been – singing? Or am I just singing along out of habit?” It’s taught me to pay attention to the words being spoken around me, or the words in a song. It’s taught me to see the true depth and meaning of worship songs, and it’s taught me that I sometimes don’t understand as much as I thought – even if I have been singing a song all my life. (Which still plays into number four…It has taught me to ask questions, and not just with people who I sign with, but with written words and spoken!)

7. Other students are just…students. Just. Like. Me.  (Whether I'm in ASL classes, math, or English.)

Sometimes I allow myself to get intimidated by others and how superior their signing skills seem to be compared to my own. Yet, this year especially, I’ve been reminded that we are all just students.  They don't have all the answers and neither do I.  My classmates have their strong spots, but so do I, and I shouldn't knock myself down because I have yet to learn something.  We all start somewhere, and we each have our own journey.

8. I’m never going to stop learning. I mean, I already knew this. But as I continue in my ASL classes, headed towards my interpreting career goal, I am reminded of this almost daily…and I’m okay with this fact.

9. I can make all the life plans you want, but I need to stay flexible.

I was planning to live overseas.  I was planning to be a journalist.  I really thought that's what God was guiding me to do.  While I do feel as though I will continue to go overseas to do short-term mission trips, for now I feel like my place is right here at home in America.  God still has me around another culture, I just didn't expect Him to place me in one so close to the comfort zone of my own front door.  Maybe God will guide me overseas later on in my life…but maybe not.  Either way - I'm staying open to the idea, I'm staying flexible.

10. Step out of your comfort zone!

I'm reminded to do this when I travel.  But when you travel, you often expect to step out of your comfort zone - and doing so is practically impossible to avoid.  Learning ASL has helped me step out of my comfort zone within my own country's borders…within my own city.  Giving a presentation in front of a class, using language different from my mother tongue?  Going to events where I have yet to know anyone else who is attending, and who speaks a language that you are only just beginning to learn??  Those are only two examples (out of many) of how learning ASL has been teaching me to step out of my comfort zone - and I'm glad that learning another language reminds me to do this on a constant basis.

------------------------------

These are just some of the lessons I've learned throughout the last two years and I know I'm bound to learn a lot more.  

When I signed up to take my ASL 1 class, I never expected this journey.  I thought, "I'll take ASL 1 and 2 for my language requirements and that's it."  Little did I know that I'd be sticking around for a lot longer (as in a life commitment), and that taking ASL 1 would guide me through a new and extraordinary door.

Are you learning another language? What lessons have you learned through your journey??

The Travelin’ Chick,
Crystal

The Opposite of Funny

Today is April Fool's Day.

It's a day in America where pranks and jokes are taking place throughout the whole day. It's a day when you can't trust anyone, and any bit of news is unreliable - especially online. (You know. It's just like what Abraham Lincoln once said, "You can't trust everything you read online!"…Right??) It's a day when doubt plants itself in every moment of that specific day, not know which moment or set of information we can accept as fact.

I love jokes. I enjoy a good prank. I didn't see or hear many jokes this year, but out of the few I heard, my favorite one was created by a child in kindergarten at the school where I work.

It was lunch time and my coworker was talking to a 5-year-old boy while helping him put his straw into his milk. He told my coworker, "I had eggs for breakfast!" Replying, she told him, "good!" Then, with excitement, he said, "APRIL FOOLS!!!! I had sausage." He was so proud that my coworker believed him when he told her he ate eggs for his morning meal. He was probably even more excited that he tricked an adult.

Most of the other jokes I saw were on Facebook. A friend of mine tricked her daughter when they gave her a muffin package. Their young child was sourly disappointed when they opened the package. They were expecting a sweet and tasty muffin inside...just to find some celery. The child's reaction was hilarious and the video received nearly 50 likes on her parent's Facebook page by the end of the night.

Then, I saw a few people post something I see every year - at least 5 times. Something that they claim as "fact" for the first few hours of their original post to later claim is as a joke. Yet, it's a joke that I don't find to be funny.  I didn't like it last year…and I still don't like it this year.  (I just finally decided to voice my opinion.) But most of all?  It's a joke that I wish others wouldn't make.

What was the joke??

"I'm pregnant…again!!"

It seems simple. It seems harmless.

For many women, this "harmless" April Fool's joke is quite the opposite of being considered funny.

Sure, it can be funny to those who have children and find no struggle in getting pregnant. It's easy for this joke to be funny to those who have never cried out to God while spending hours on their numb knees, asking God to bless them with at least one child…for those who have never spent hours at the doctor's office talking about fertility, fertility treatments, and saving thousands of dollars to spend on hopes of uncertain medicine to assist in the process. The joke may cause laughter for those who have never had the heart-wrenching moment at 2:00 a.m. of an ER doctor saying, "You're in your second trimester…but I can't find the heartbeat of your daughter."

Unless you have certain life experiences, it is probably easier to have a good laugh over things that cause others tears.

There is a great amount of (often forgotten) women out in the world who have a constant struggle when it comes to the topic of children and pregnancy…Women who are mourning every day for an unfilled desire.

Jokes like this are a fresh cut on an old wound…A wound created through experiences of miscarriages, giving birth to a stillborn, child loss, infertility, and even the struggle that some experience during the process of adoption.

When women, who have no problem conceiving children, who have never experienced the unforgettable and never-ending heart ache from child loss or infertility post, "I'm pregnant…again!!" as a joke…it's not even slightly funny.

Every day many women are reminded of what they don't have or about what has been taken away from them. When women who have children and an easy ability to conceive children, and then they joke about having another child - when they aren't really pregnant - it is another reminder. They can't have children, yet their friend with a house full of children has such an easy time that they can joke about it.

The woman with a household full of children is lucky. She is blessed as she has been given such an amazingly beautiful gift from God.

The women who have struggled with child loss and infertility? They are thankful. They are thankful that their friends have their children. They are thankful that not every woman has to battle their type of harsh struggles of motherhood. Their journey is something they would never wish upon another woman.

Women who have lost a child are reminded about their loss - or desire to have children - in the daily,
small things. They're reminded in the comfort of their own homes while they surf their TV and pass the drama-filled TV series Teen Mom. They are reminded when they go to a mall and pass the baby stores or the baby isle in Target wishing they could the cute frilly pink dress for a little one. They are reminded when their friends announce real pregnancies and are invited to an endless amount of baby showers - all while craving the ability to have their own celebration for their unfulfilled desire to hold a child of their own…Not to mention when they are reminded on the date of their child's birth, the date of their death, on Mother's day, and on Christmas. They are reminded when they go to place flowers on the gravesite of one of the few things that have their child's name in writing, the headstone of the local cemetery. They're reminded of their loss and struggle by the dusty stored boxes from their time of hope and joy, before that time unexpectedly ended in an indescribably, paralyzing pain.

It's okay to make jokes and to perform pranks on April Fools. But please - keep in mind that your posts are seen by all on your friend list. What may be seen as harmless to you can hurt another in ways that you (hopefully) will never understand. Your posts are seen by mothers, fathers - but also by the childless.

I've never lost a child of my own. I've not dealt with infertility - and I pray I never will…But I know so many who have - including my sister who gave birth to first child, to her daughter, Ashley, as a stillborn (read Going Home for the story from my perspective). Knowing how much it hurts me, just as an aunt of a child who has passed on, for people to make light of pregnancies and the reminder of the pain my family has gone through throughout the last two years since her death…just to see someone be so flippant...I know I can't even imagine the pain my sister must feel - especially when people know her story and that she sees all that they post.

Sure, time has passed since the death of my niece.  July 5th will mark the 3rd year anniversary of both her birthday and the day she died...But it is still a sensitive topic for my family.  Our hearts still ache and our memories often feel as though they just took place yesterday…Memories from the few short moments when we all held her for the last time (and in my case, it was the first and last time since I was abroad during her birth).

Please…Think before you post. Your words - written or spoken - do impact others around you.

And to those of you who have lost children and/or who struggle with infertility - please know that you are remembered and loved. My prayers go out to you and your family, and I pray that your deepest heart's desires will one day be filled with a precious bundle of joy for you to share your love with…(All while helping you lose brain cells and causing you many strands of grey hair.)

The Travelin' Chick,
Crystal

They Easily Forget

Today I was driving home when I had a surprising visit with the car that was stopped next to me at a red light. (I say surprising, but in reality, I shouldn't be surprised one bit after a lifetime filled of these "surprising" interactions.)

As I was waiting at the red light, to my left I saw a couple and their child in their car staring at me. Thirty seconds later, I quickly made another glance out of the corner of my eye. They were all still staring.

I've been sick since Thursday night and today I really lacked the patience to deal with this kind of thing. Usually I'll stare back and smile - you know - to try and smoother others and their rudeness in kindness, "winning" in the end...But not today.

Today was a different story, as I eventually made full eye contact with the staring eyes. The wife quickly looked away, yet the husband still stared. I held eye contact for at least a minute, the guy's eyes not budging. (Seriously...This was probably the longest red light of my life.)

He stared. I stared back.

Normally my staring back in response usually does the trick to break other people's stares. But not this time.

I could pretend that I was kind in return to his rudeness, but then I'd be lying. I'd be lying to you by pretending to be a person who always responds in the correct and proper way, the kind way. I'd be lying to you by pretending to have all the right answers, all the right responses. But I don't have all the right answers. I don't always have the right responses.

As we had our staring contest, I made my hands motion to him the question, "What??" as I gave him a look with my facial expression saying, "Dude - what is your problem?? What are you staring at??"

Instead of looking away, he imitated my exact same facial expression and body movement - without breaking eye contact. A few seconds later I tried again, but his response was the same. (Think he would have done the same had I made funny faces at him instead?? Next time I'll have to give that option a shot!) It wasn't until I put my hand over my cheek, hiding my birthmark, hiding myself, that made him look away.

I was infuriated. Comments can sometimes be hurtful, but I think I find staring to be worse - at least at this stage in my life. (A hint for any guy who wants to potentially woe me...staring at my sparkling beauty is not the way to go! ;-) ) And although I acknowledge the hurt and frustration, I also have to make sure I don't allow people like this man define who I am and to try and take these situations with a grain of salt.

A part of me wonders if it is socially acceptable to say that I sometimes mentally high-five people in the face. Like I did today. (Even my thought process isn't always the greatest, or the most kind either.)

Although I've had a lifetime filled with these experiences and should probably expect them, I'm always surprised and in awe when they take place. I guess I always hope that the hearts of strangers will be kind and tender to others - not wanting to live 24/7 with my heart and mind constantly on-guard because of what people may say or do, just because of my appearance.

As I sit back and think about today's experience, I realized something...Something I've never really thought about before.

I think that people, like today's staring man, forget. They forget that they just as easily could have been me. The odds of them being born with a port-wine-stain birthmark covering half their cheek were as equal as my own. Although they were born "normal" - their "normalcy" could easily be taken away by one quick and simple, unforeseen accident. They forget, that if they were me, that they wouldn't want to be treated in the same way in which they have treated me.

People forget that their future child or grandchild could be just like me...Forgetting that they are the role model for their toddler, their child, sitting in the backseat of their car in the moment they are currently in.

They forget that one day, I may be a teacher to their child, a tutor, a friend, a mentor. They forget I may be someone who might make a much needed difference in their life, or a difference in this world.

People often forget I am a person...just like them.

Before you stare at others, or make fun of someone because they are somehow "different" in anyway, please remember...Remember that they are someone's child, sibling, and grandchild. They are someone's friend, mentor, hero. They are a person with talent, memories, experiences, and stories...with feelings, unseen scars, and unseen joys.

We are more than the surface of our skin, more than the differences that you instantly perceive by a quick glance or two minute staring contest.

Please...Don't forget.

The Travelin' Chick,
Crystal


PS: On the bright side, I'm working on a couple of book ideas right now and the experience I had today gave me some good ideas to work with! It quite possibly helped me break through my writer's block. Yay for ideas!

Amethyst

Right after my most recent treatment (left) and about
5 days after the treatment (right).  Both without makeup.

About a week ago I had another laser treatment. My treatment was on a Monday, but usually I have them on Fridays. When I have my treatment on Fridays, I get to hang around the house resting and healing. I strongly dislike, with a passion, leaving the house after a treatment. My face is swollen, sore, and looks a mess. Not to mention being tired afterwards.

Having the treatment on a Monday, I knew I couldn't hang around the house. I had work and school the next day. Truthfully, one of the other main reasons I don't like leaving the house: my treatments always magnify the amount of staring and insensitive comments, remarks, and questions that people forget to filter before their words leave their mouths.  (But please note that I am okay with how I look before my treatments.  I'm use to my normal birthmark color.  I only struggle after the treatments.  To give you an example of one of my after-treatment example experiences...After my last treatment, a guy cursed at the looks of my face by exclaiming, "HOLY POOP**!!"  And no, I'm not kidding…I know I look a mess, and not that great afterwards, but really??)

All that being said, I asked for prayer on my FB page. I wanted prayer for the patiences I needed to "deal" with the insensitive looks and comments. Prayer for kindness when I responded, and prayer for the ability to have the right attitude so I would have the ability to see the humor in any/all situations that took place.

My week ended up being great! Fantastic, actually. I found all sorts of ways to be happy and thankful…Thankful for different friends who encouraged me in many different ways. Thankful to have the ability to teach others, ranging from the kids at my work who had a million questions (some silly, some serious) to my neighbor next door who demonstrated yet, another, broken filter. I was - and am - thankful for teachers who ask me how I'm doing and who understood when I just didn't feel well enough to attend class, and parents who picked me up early from school because I didn't feel like I could sit through my last class. Really, this list of thankful moments could go on and on…But I am incredibly thankful for being able to find the small and big things I am thankful for and the positive things, verses the negative possibilities.

The other day I was able to see my friend Denise and she told me that she had a story idea in mind for me. She wanted to post it on my FB, knowing I'd get a kick out of it (as I can often find a lot of humor in having my birthmark), but wasn't sure how others on my friend list would take it. After telling me a summary of the story, I insisted that she must post the whole thing to my wall. It is brilliant, and I love it. It made me laugh - a lot. (Another thing to be thankful for!!) I asked her if I could share it here on my blog, and she told me that I could.

Here is the story (written by Denise Nicholes):

Okay...I'm pretty sure you are a super hero! You see...I grew up watching The Incredible Hulk (that's right...I'm old)...okay...well...He was a normal guy right!?! Yes yes he was...however he had a slight issue when he got mad: you know, he bulked up, turned green, became super strong (but of course had to control his temper). A couple of decades later (maybe even 3 decades) a young lady was born...normal gal right?!? Well...kind of normal...she's silly and doesn't like to wear shoes but that's okay. (back to the story). So Crystal the Super Hero was born. You see...Wonder Woman had a lasso, Bionic Woman had bionic ears, legs and arms, Superman could fly, Spiderman could climb walls...and Crystal can withstand high levels of pain when LASERS are shot at her! Crystal remains sweet until too many broken filters are coming at her...then her non-super hero friends want to help...but NO...Crystal's got this! You see...people can ask questions about her super powers (oh by the way, her powers come from the Purple Spot)...but if your filter is broken and you ask a dumb question she becomes a little Hulk-like...I'll give you an example: "Hey Crystal, what happened to your face? Were you in a car accident?" (Crystal response) "Ummmmmm NO, God gave me 'Purple Powers' and if you're seeing spots on my face right now, you should run because purple venom is about to shoot out at you...which could kill you...it depends on your level of stupidity". (okay...she wouldn't say that...but she should totally try it just once! How awesome would that be!) Stay tuned for more super hero stories LOL...If anyone has any super hero power ideas...lay it on her...she loves it...really...she does!


She even came up with - and did research for - a name for my double-life superhero character:

You shall be called AMETHYST (gem of fire) since it's a purple crystal: Purple Amethyst has been highly esteemed throughout the ages for its stunning beauty and legendary powers to stimulate, and soothe, the mind and emotions. It is a semi-precious stone in today’s classifications, but to the ancients it was a “Gem of Fire,” a Precious Stone worth, at times in history, as much as a Diamond. It carries the energy of fire and passion, creativity and spirituality, yet bears the logic of temperance and sobriety. I LIKE IT!

Later she wrote me a text and said:

"You know the other part of the story is when you ask Amethyst about the purple powers in a polite way, flowers will shoot out.  Can you picture the cartoon in my head?? ;-)"

What do you think of Denise's story?? (Personally, I LOVE LOVE LOVE it!…Oh hey, did I mention that I LOVE it?  This is probably one of the sweetest/coolest things a friend as done for me.)  Do any of ya'll have any fun story ideas?

No matter what people say to me after a treatment, no matter how long they stare, or how low they lower their jaws in shock of my face's appearance - it doesn't matter.  I am a superhero, and I have the strength to get through it!

Thanks, Denise!

The Travelin' Chick, 

Crystal  (AKA: Amethyst!)

**I like to keep my blog a friendly, safe, and clean place for others to visit.  That being said, no, "poop" wasn't the actual word he used…but you get the idea.