Friday, September 5, 2014

Time

4 months. 18 weeks. 130 days.

Have you ever thought about the concept of “time”? … A serious sit down-pondering-head scratching-Einstein style-poke your eyeballs out mull over time? I never have either. But the last 4 months {18 weeks, 130 days} have given me a whole new perspective of time. I’ve decided it’s two faced- my best friend and my worst enemy. If there was one thing I wasn’t prepared for in the widowhood world, it was how much time I was going to need to get back up on my feet. Literally. My first month post-loss consisted of shock. Pure and complete shock. I don’t remember May—it’s almost as though it never even existed for me. Months #2 & #3 were incredibly difficult as the shock and numbness slowly started to wear off, not to mention a miscarriage in there. Life became physically painful as I had face the future without my husband, who I loved more than any words could ever express. Most days I couldn’t see past the next hour, let alone the next day or month. And now, here we are in September…….

9.5.13
On the flip side of this notion of time, DJ popped the big question one year {52 weeks, 365 days} ago today! Thanks to my gullible-ness I didn’t even question the Go-Pro mounted in the airplane; in fact, I’m pretty sure I confirmed with him that it was actually on and recording before take-off [He told me that if he recorded his flights our insurance premium would be discounted ... Hindsight thought: “What?!?!”] I don’t have the recording of our engagement to show you—you can ask my brother-in-law about that J Let’s just say I’m really good at finding straight roads in the “emergency-landing” situation and after 2 minutes of hyperventilating, legs shaking seizure-style, & my face buried in the sweaty palms of my hands—I said YES! {Just for the record, there was no emergency & there was no landing; see above on gullible-ness}. It’s amazing how much change can take place in just one year. I went from dating, to engaged, to married, to widowed all in a matter of a few months. I would give anything to go back in time…
"I can't promise that I will be here for the rest of your life, but I can promise that I will love you for the rest of mine..."




They say time “heals.” But, really, you never completely heal. That grief never leaves your heart; it may become dormant for some time {at this point, “some time”=hours, maybe}, much like a state of remission following a battle with cancer, but then, all of the sudden that overwhelming feeling of heartache & sadness & hopelessness can come back with a vengeance. Much like salt on a wound—it’s gut-wrenching, takes your breath away, and brings tears. One of the harder things in the whole realm of grief, for me, has not only been losing my hubby {and accepting my loss}, but also accepting the grief that has accompanied my losing him. It is exhausting. And relentless. And requires more patience than you could imagine. You are required to ‘feel’ a lot of feelings… I’m mad as hell, sad as you could be, fear my future, and feel cheated out of what was supposed to be the best years of my (our) life. The phrase “one day at a time” has never been held so close to my heart as it is now. I would give anything to fast forward time if I can’t be granted option A {See above}.

Obviously option A nor B is possible, so I decided awhile back that I will settle for option C, which consists of moving forward & finding joy in life again. A dear friend, who happens to be wandering this crazy widowhood path with myself, reminds me “it’s pretty hard to cry when you’re laughing.” Although laughing isn’t always easy, I’ve learned that it is ok. It’s ok to smile, laugh, and live life, one day at a time. Which brings me to my closing thought on time... Everyone who attended the 1st Annual DJ Fischer Memorial Scholarship fundraiser had a great time! I cannot say thank you enough to the guys who organized and hosted such an awesome event! Also, THANK YOU to all of you for your generosity and more importantly, honoring my late husband—it means the world to our families and myself. I know he is one proud angel up there and he has one proud wife here on Earth!
DJ's family @ the golf tourney
It’s no joke that the theory of time is a crazy brain twister. It haunts you, yet “heals” you. There are good times and bad times. As I continue to take one day {sometimes hour} at a time in my new norm of widowhood, I remain so incredibly thankful for your prayers, inspiring words, and love that surrounds me always. I’m blessed to have countless amazing people walking beside me on this journey. In time, I will be able to see past tomorrow and restore hope in my future.


Until next time…








Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Picking up the Pieces

13 long, exhausting, heart-wrenching weeks have come and gone. People say that a part of you dies when you lose a spouse. I disagree. The term “die” or “death” is all too permanent for me, not to mention morbid; and with a career in healthcare, has always represented, in my eyes, complete end of life on Earth and the beginning of eternal life in the most beautiful place. You don’t die. You are forever changed, but you don’t die. You are actually forced to LIVE this life on Earth everyday, just without your soul mate, the one who was supposed to be by your side forever.

I didn’t realize how much shock I was in until it started to wear off… Don’t get me wrong, the shock is still there, it’s just not as protective as it was in those first few weeks. After hearing of other widow’s experiences, I’ve determined that grieving the loss of your spouse is pure hell. Moreover, unless you have experienced widowhood yourself, you have no idea what it is like and even then- it is still different. I once read somewhere that “grief is as individualized as a fingerprint.”

Although I was in complete shock immediately following the news of my husband’s tragic death, there are a few things that stand out in my memory. It took me a long time (12ish weeks) to not feel guilty about my first reaction that horrid night, which consisted of hugging my mother-in-law in our bedroom while she cried, followed by walking out into our kitchen and asking my sister-in-law if I should make a pot of coffee or open a bottle of wine. I didn’t cry right away. Once the tears started, though, they didn’t stop {and still haven’t stopped- I cry everyday, sometimes several times a day, over my loss}. That first week- sleep was minimal, at best. I remember napping during the daytime while curled up in my husband’s beloved La-Z-Boy as our house swarmed with company. I didn’t want to be alone in a quiet bedroom. I also vividly remember finding out I was pregnant on what would have been DJ’s 31st birthday. To this day, I still don’t know how I managed to get through that week. How was I able to put on makeup and a dress on for my husband’s funeral?!

The day (May 24th) DJ’s 802 (spray plane) went back to Timber Lake was almost harder than his funeral {See aforementioned thoughts on shock} along with June 4th. There is nothing significant about June 4th other than I consider that my lowest of low days. I sobbed all day and the physical pain was nearly unbearable. My grief overwhelmed me. Thankfully, to this day, that is still my toughest day post-loss on record. As a widow, you experience many bad days, a few ok days, and some days, it’s just “one of those days.” Following the loss of a spouse, you are on an emotional roller coaster that doesn’t stop- you can’t get off and ‘exit to your left’. You can’t hold up your hand to suggest ‘please stop I’m going to throw up’ and you can’t even close your eyes, hold on tight, and find peace in knowing it will all be over in 2 minutes.

Another day that will haunt me forever was the day I got together with Nicole, Kyrstin, and Natalie to sort through all of our hubby’s personal belongings that were on board the airplane. I was mentally prepared for seeing the worst and it was worse than the worst. I will never forget laying eyes on his damaged headset, the one DJ always wore when flying, immediately when I walked into that musty, damp room. A flood of emotions and memories nearly brought me to my knees. Nobody should’ve had to see what we saw that day. 

When you are faced with tragedy, life comes to a screeching halt. Your hopes & dreams shatter into a million little pieces and you question everything. And I mean EVERYTHING. Was I not meant to be a wife? Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be a crop duster’s wife? Am I not worthy of motherhood? Why don’t I get the joy of having my own family as we planned? How about small town living? What about my career choice? The list goes on and on… I wasn’t prepared for decision-making without him and it has nearly paralyzed me. Most days I can’t even decide if I want just peanut butter or PB&J! However, I did make a spontaneous decision to get a tattoo on the inside of my left ankle {Welcome to widowhood, people-where you can’t decide what color of underwear to wear, but you can make a decision on a whim to put something permanent on your body}.


As I begin to pick up these million little pieces, I continue to remain thankful for your prayers of support. Although I’m not ready to put the pieces of my puzzle back together, I am holding them near and dear to my heart and keeping the faith that someday, that puzzle will be near complete again, always with two pieces missing.

“When you are ready to live again-life will be there waiting with open arms.”
--1fw {One Fit Widow}

XO-
Megan


My loves



Celebrating my friend Erin's final fling before the ring!


"I carry your hearts" ~ DJ, Brent, Nick, & Logan {The heart itself represents our miscarriage}
A blanket from my forever friend- I love it!
Baby Fischer {Daddy's Co-pilot~Mommy's Angel}














Monday, July 7, 2014

The Lemon Ambush

Is it really July 7th already? I’m not sure where time goes, but it sure seems to go fast, yet slow all at the same time. It has been 10 weeks since I lost my husband, 3 other wives also lost their husbands, and 4 children lost their daddy.  When I think of the reality of this tragedy, I still think it’s just a dream. 

Since my first blog was published, another life altering event has taken place, but on a more positive note. On July 1, 2014 I passed my national boards and am officially a CRNA (and never studying again)!  The overwhelming support I received after “My Rock Bottom” gave me an incredible amount of motivation to begin my studying again. That and I felt this HUGE weight lifted off my shoulders when everyone learned of our story. You see there was a lot of speculation about me being pregnant after DJ was killed. If you knew my husband, you knew he was ready for kids of his own (as was I) long before he even met me! So there was hope. Hope that I was pregnant and we would all get our piece of heaven on earth with a little (big) DJ Fischer running around town. I truly believe that if my husband were still alive I would be nearly 14 weeks pregnant today. But as someone told me in one of my hundreds of messages I received after my first blog post, “This isn’t the way life was supposed to be, but it’s the way life is.”  So I’m coping. I’m not ok. None of this is “ok.” But I am coping.  

After I passed my boards, my sisters and I were talking over a much-needed margarita. One of my sisters looked at me and said, “You know how when God hands you lemons you’re supposed to make lemonade? Well I feel like God has been chucking lemons at you.” Yes. Yes I agree. I feel like those lemons have been chucked at my head to be honest. My other sister chimed in at this point and said, “Well I hope the lemon ambush is over for you.” I couldn’t agree more! I went through an anger phase {You do go through all phases of grief. Even if you try your hardest to avoid them, you are defeated. And you go through them all multiples times. Sometimes multiple times a day} the week after DJ’s funeral and I was mad at everything from cows, to wind turbines (still dislike them to this day), to airplanes, to you name it. BUT, I was never mad at the big man upstairs. Maybe one day I will I be, but for now, as long as the lemon ambush stops, we’re good :)

Life as of lately has been busy. I spent around 10-12 days prepping for boards, which meant shutting out the world essentially. But in that time I did allow myself to meet with some high school friends for dinner the weekend of our 10-year class reunion and I was able to get together with all of my college girlfriends for a night out. Since passing boards, I have been surrounded by friends and family- enjoying summer days & nights and reminiscing my beloved husband. I spent 4th of July weekend with all of DJ’s family camping out at the river. I even tented it by myself for 2 nights!  The funny thing is, though, I didn’t even know we owned a tent. So my brother-in-law calls me just as I’m leaving town and tells me to grab this tent and he will set it up for me. My response was “Umm we have a tent?” AND if we do own a tent, where the heck is it? He, of course, could direct me to right where it was sitting in our garage. I learn new things everyday! And am so thankful for the best sibling-in-laws!

Thank you for all of your continued love, support, and prayers. I couldn’t do this crazy life without all of you lifting me up and giving me hope for the future and prayers of peace from the past. Someday, I will be able to make lemonade again.

Until next time…
Megan




Love my nephew Nash Maverick
 Celebrating DJ's favorite holiday! 
                                                                               

Sunset swimming with some of the best friends!

Fireworks on the river with Mr. Monroe Kraft
                                                    







Thursday, June 12, 2014

My Rock Bottom

       In the early morning hours of April 28, 2014 my world stopped. Around 4:07 AM it was confirmed that my husband’s missing airplane had struck a wind turbine just 10 miles from his destination. Around 4:23 AM I was told what I already knew. My husband of just 6 weeks had not survived along with the 3 other souls on board. I don’t think I even cried. Shock took over my mind & body. And the rest of the week is much of a blur………


But let me rewind so I can fill you in on our story. I can’t do that in this crazy thing called life (unfortunately), but I surely can do it on blogspot.com

February 28, 2014… I FINALLY completed graduate school and was officially done having a long distance relationship with my fiancé! We were ecstatic to have survived my long haul of 30 months in CRNA school and had just one week to finish up last minute details before we were Mexico-bound for our wedding. We were so happy, relieved, and just plain excited that it was finally almost here!

March 12, 2014… Our wedding day was our perfect start to forever. We were surrounded by 68 of our family & friends saying, “I do” on a beach in Mexico as the sun began its decent. There was not one thing we would have changed about our day. To us, our dreams had come true.

March 29, 2014… This is actually our legal wedding date & another Fischer celebration! For those of you who know us, we like to party J Our wedding reception was, again, everything we hoped- great company, amazing food, and an awesome band {Goodroad}! We had a blast celebrating our love with everyone who could attend!

April 2014… The month of April for me consisted of studying as I was preparing for my national boards. DJ spent long days at the airport getting his beloved 802 ready for the 2014 spray season. He was so excited to get in his spray plane and do what he loved!  We had lunch together everyday and supper together nearly every night. We enjoyed each other’s company and began to settle into married life. Despite studying, it was awesome. The weekend of April 25, 2014 approached and he decided to fly to Texas with a couple of guys from around the area to attend a cattle sale. He knew I had one final weekend of studying to push through so he thought he would get out of the house. From the moment he told me about the plan, I had a bad feeling. But that was normal. When you’re married (or even dating) to a pilot, a cropduster nonetheless, you have lots of bad feelings. And so far, none of those bad feelings resulted in anything bad. So I did what I usually did…. Made him promise to check in with me, let me know the minute he was on the ground, watch the weather, etc… {Side note: it’s funny how you become a meteorologist when you’re married to a pilot} DJ, Brent, Nick, and Logan all arrived in windy Texas without any issues on Saturday morning. Off to the cattle sale they went….

April 27-28, 2014… I woke up at 5:30 AM that Sunday worried about the weather that was on its way to the entire Midwest. DJ of course calmed my worries and ensured me he was watching it closely. I trusted him and went about my day of studying. The last time I heard his voice was around 5 PM. They were just getting ready to take-off from Hereford, Texas. He texted me & let me know when he was flying over Oklahoma, Kansas, and Nebraska. At 8:54 PM I received my last ever text from him that said “Goin over Chamberlain.” I replied with “Keep flying safe.” If only I would have known that would be our last conversation, I would have responded with “I love you”…. At 10:42 PM, I knew something was horribly wrong. I hadn’t heard from him and knew he should be home by now. I went to the airport where one of his brothers met me. We turned on the runway lights and tried to get him to come in on the radio. Nothing. By 11:15 PM flight services was contacted and after discussing departure times, last contacts, text messages, etc… They deployed search and rescue by 12:30 AM, now April 28, 2014. I was sick to my stomach. I went home and my sister-in-law came over (DJ’s 2 brothers took off for Highmore to try find him and the 3 other men) and crawled in bed with me. We layed there and tried to convince each other planes went down and people survived as we saw every hour on the clock pass that night. I don’t remember much after the 4 AM hour… As mentioned above, I was in complete shock. How could this happen 6 weeks after our wedding day, the beginning of our happily ever after?!?!??

April 28-30, 2014… Shock continued. Tears flowed. And many hugs were given. Family & friends & complete strangers wrapped their arms around us. On April 30, 2014 @ 2 PM I was supposed to be taking my boards, but instead on this date and at that exact time I planned my husband’s funeral with his family. I will never forget looking at the clock and thinking how could this possibly be?

May 1, 2014… DJ would have turned 31 today AND would have found out he was going to be a daddy! I found out I was pregnant at 5 AM that morning. Again, shock. Of course, I knew this was a definite possibility, but considering the events on April 27, I figured it would be “too good to be true” if I indeed was pregnant. {Disclaimer: All those Coors Light bottles consumed over the last few weeks were filled with water; also, my sister in law has a great Kool-Aid recipe that matches Mike’s Hard Cranberry Lemonade perfectly J} After I stared at the positive home pregnancy test for a few hours and contemplated taking another five just to confirm, I decided this was my silver lining to this nightmare I was living. This was my strength to get me through saying my final goodbyes to my husband. This is what was going to me through to other side of grief. I could do this. I HAD to do this for our baby, my little piece of heaven on earth.

May 3, 2014… I said goodbye and I love you to my beloved husband. It was the hardest day of my life.

May 5, 2014… I had a repeat quantitative HCG drawn, which confirmed my number was continuing to climb… This was a good sign and according to the calendar and my quant, I was 4-5 weeks along. 

May 8, 2014… I met with my OB for the first time. More blood work was drawn and an ultrasound was done. They warned me that they probably wouldn’t see anything on this ultrasound because I wasn’t very far along. BUT, the ultrasound tech was able to identify a gestational sac immediately and I measured right at 5 weeks with an estimated due date of January 8, 2015. My OB was impressed, but with the emotional stress my body was enduring, she wanted to keep a close eye on me. I left there feeling cautiously optimistic, yet realistic knowing all too well my risk (anyone’s) risk of miscarriage.

May 29, 2014… My 8-week appointment. Well, remember my aforementioned “too good to be true” feeling I had upon finding out I was pregnant? That basically sums up this appointment. The ultrasound suggested I was 5 weeks 6 days…. Remember this is 3 weeks after my last appointment where I measured 5 weeks. My heart sank. My OB asked if dates could be off. Had my husband been alive? Maybe.  But I knew it wasn’t humanly possible. We decided to draw more blood and check another pregnancy hormone level. To our surprise, my blood work all was consistent with a viable, 6-week pregnancy. So my OB and I decided it was worth it to give this little bean another week, a gazillion prayers, and a heck of a lot of hope.

June 5, 2014… I would be 9 weeks pregnant today. I decided to go back to the ultrasound room alone for this appointment. If there was another loss, I didn’t want anyone else to have to see it. Plus, I knew DJ was with me. The tech came in and started. I knew right away that this pregnancy was no longer viable, as there was no change in the measurements. I envisioned my guardian angel sitting in the chair next to the table I was laying on, holding my hand and his other arm and hand supporting his forehead while he cried. I only saw him cry once in our 22 months of knowing each other, but I know this loss, my loss, moved him to tears. Thankfully, I had prepared myself mentally for this appointment. Although I wanted nothing more than my "little piece of heaven on earth" with me, I knew that this baby must have needed his or her daddy more- can’t blame him or her, I guess. I accepted my miscarriage with grace and found peace in knowing our baby was in heaven with daddy, grandpa, a couple of cousins, many of our friends’ little peanuts, as well as several other family members. My OB and I discussed options at this point and I elected for a D&C even though I was terrified of being put to sleep for surgery (I was supposed to be putting people to sleep, not getting put to sleep!!!) This was planned for Tuesday, June 10, 2014. Before I left, I mentioned to her that I had found a lump on my breast and thought she should check it out. Upon examination, she ordered an immediate breast ultrasound and mammogram. Yes, this is really happening. Phone calls were made and I was able to get right in at the imaging center down the street. So I filled my mom in on the 2- minute car ride and we went on to the next appointment. The ultrasound was done first. The radiologist read the scan and determined that the mammogram was necessary. {Side note: Mammograms while pregnancy hormones are elevated are not fun. Period} To my surprise, the radiologist came and talked to me immediately following the mammogram. He came into the room, introduced himself and said, “Well I have some good news and not so good news…” REALLY?! Ok, at this point, I’m numb to life so bring it on. He said the mass was not a cyst, but definitely some sort of tumor… While the characteristics of the mass per the images looked benign, he could not guarantee that to me. So his recommendation was to have the entire mass removed and sent for pathology. I called my OB’s nurse and explained this situation. We made an appointment for me to meet with the general surgeon on Monday, June 9, 2014 and added an excisional breast mass biopsy to my already scheduled D&C for Tuesday.

June 10, 2014… SURGERY DAY… I was nervous for many reasons.
#1 This meant my pregnancy, my once- in-a -lifetime shot of being a mama to DJ Fischer’s babe, was officially over. I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle that emotionally today and in the days to come. This was supposed to be my silver lining….
#2 I was scared of anesthesia… And decided ignorance is bliss.
#3 What if this breast mass is the ugly “C” word? Because let’s face it, I’ve lost my husband and our baby in a 6 week timeframe. I don’t think God necessarily says “Well she has lost so much lately, let’s give her a break this week”…. Things happen. And I am here to tell you that you have no control over these things. The pathology report for this mass wouldn’t be back until late afternoon the following day.

I had 2 requests on June 10, 2014… That my guardian angel be with me at all times and that I be given really good drugs. And those 2 requests were granted! Everything went so smooth. I arrived at the hospital at 6 AM and was discharged by 10 AM. Everybody was so nice and their empathy meant the world to me. I remember going back to the OR around 6:55 AM. I got settled on the operating room table and my general surgeon came to my side and held my hand until I was sleeping. What a nice guy! I have never seen a surgeon do that before. Surgery went off without a hitch and I woke up in the recovery room 20 minutes after I had been dropped off (thank you good drugs). My mom took me home to Gettysburg and I recovered nicely with no discomfort to speak of. Since April 28, 2014 pain is perceived much differently. And this physical “pain” was nothing compared to the pain of losing the man I loved with all of my heart.

Today… June 12, 2014… So here I am. A widow at 28 years old. No baby on the way. And no more lump, which by the way, was what they call a fibroadenoma- a benign tumor (Thank you Lord). Sometimes I feel as though I have had everything taken away from me. I feel cheated, especially in my short marriage to the man of dreams. We would have celebrated 3 months of wedded bliss today! I can’t say though, that I have lost everything. I still have my faith, a great family, the best of friends, an amazing, supportive community, which has become home to me, and a whole army of people supporting me, lifting me up, and wrapping their arms around me. Amidst everything over the last 6 weeks, there has been no greater loss than that of my husband. I miss him dearly.

I will close with a quote a good friend, who at the time did not know of these “other” events taking place in my life, sent me last week. It is a quote from Giuliana Rancic in regards to her battle with infertility and breast cancer…

“True strength really is staying strong when the whole world would forgive you if you were to fall to your knees and give up… That’s true strength… Not giving up.”


--Megan