I would like to begin this post by thanking each and every one of you who thought of me and prayed for me before/during/after my surgery, it truly meant so much to me and my family! I’m also excited to finally be blogging again so that I can give all glory to God in saying that this surgery and recovery did go much better than I expected. I’m not sure exactly what I expected, but I knew it would be much more difficult than my wisdom teeth surgery. However, I have found that while yes, of course things about this are more difficult since it was a bigger procedure, God has delivered again and again by completely minimizing the pain and struggles of it. My surgeon, who is exceptional, was very pleased with the results and how the procedure went, which I will share more details on throughout the post, but long story short, he said it went as well as it possibly could. So THANK YOU all for praying!!!

I would have loved to blog a lot sooner—literally my first night in the hospital I was already mentally blogging everything I wanted to say—and while my recovery has been fairly smooth for the most part, I have found myself getting fatigued so easily, probably thanks to the lovely no-chew diet… So I’m just now getting around to writing this out, but I took good notes on my phone of things I wanted to remember and I do have pictures to share! I don’t want to write a book about all this, but I would like to share my experience so that if you’re going through this procedure or just anything else that seems scary/daunting, you can perhaps experience the peace of God that He gave me leading up to this. It was an incredible experience for me in my faith to trust His provision and faithfulness when going into the unknown.

The Day and Night Before Jaw Surgery

This is a surgery that has essentially been ten years in the making for me, the probable culmination for fixing my bite and aligning my teeth (which means my braces come off in about a year or perhaps a little less than that!). I still remember when I first found out it was official in that this was something I was for sure going to have to choose and we were going to begin scheduling it, which I wrote about here, in the summer of 2018. <– Also, the joy of switching blog platforms…there’s no images in that post yet, but you can still read it. 😉 I had my first consultation over in Iowa City with the surgeon and residents that fall, and then I also had my wisdom teeth out there that following summer, and then several appointments before January later, the big day arrived.

This surgery worried me. I don’t consider myself someone with a high tolerance for pain; I’ve usually been pretty sensitive and worried that a surgery this major would make me wish I’d died because, you know, we’re not drama or anything over here. 🙂 What amazes me about the peace of God, though, is how you can spend so much time in advance worrying about something, but then when it actually happens and becomes reality, you find this strength you didn’t know was there. As the months eventually became weeks, I felt some of that worry creeping in, but honestly? I prayed all the concerns I had for it, and eventually I didn’t feel the fear I’d experienced years before thinking about it. I knew I needed/wanted it done and that this is what we’d been preparing for. I trusted in God alone to work it out and take care of me through the hands of my surgeons and doctors and all involved. There became a resignation in me that God gave me to enable me not to freak out about it but to accept it with grace and faith. I asked Him to help me not get worked up over it (I did get super anxious before having my wisdom teeth out, which everyone was so gracious about, but I didn’t want my body to betray me again like that).

***AND I’M NOT GOING TO LIE, sometimes God uses food and shopping to numb the soul. 🙂 Haha, somewhat true, though really I had to focus on Him or that, too, would have been swallowed in a tsunami of anxiety. Only He can calm that sea, which is what actually allowed me to enjoy the final day of living it up in Iowa City at the mall and Olive Garden. At our final appointments in December, Mom mentioned staying in a hotel the night before surgery since I had to get a COVID test that day and the surgery was scheduled early in the morning. I had no objections to that of course; I love all things hotels, cities, shopping, food…

I helped her pick one out near Coralville, which was not far from the hospital, either; it’s all kind of right there and blends into each other. The actual day of, I got excited thinking about spending a day with Mom in Iowa City at Coral Ridge Mall hanging out, and we’d planned eating at Olive Garden for awhile since I wanted to load up on carbs for my “last meal”—that I would be chewing for a long time, anyway… And I was eager just to spend time at the hotel, just the two of us, in Iowa City. I was, however, worried about the COVID test. Mom said she’d heard people say it felt like “poking your brains out…” That test was scheduled around 11ish I believe, so we left shortly after Mom had dropped Hunter off at school. We were actually early! I think we set a record of being late to every single appointment at the dentistry hospital before surgery, as the directions from the parking garages are not as intuitive as you might think. There’s a bit of a learning curve I think we finally grasped just this last time we saw my surgeon for a follow-up visit. And actually I think we were still late, which was probably my fault in being too slow getting ready. But now I have an excuse to be lethargic!!

I also packed a small(ish) bag with my clothes for two days, the day of surgery (just something to wear to the hospital) and then my outfit for going home and pajamas for the hotel. I was so proud that my aesthetic showed even with loungewear and that basically everything was from Victoria’s Secret. 😉

I wasn’t going to go into everything we did in much detail, but I realize now that it’s hard for me to separate the insight from that day and the way God prepared me from the actual day of surgery itself. When I say it was one of the best days of my life, I’m not kidding—but the COVID test did suck. That was the one thing I actually was fearful for as I got ready. I told people it only killed me a little; it could have been worse, but it definitely lived up to the description Mom heard. I hope to God I’m never required to take one of those again.

However, the people there were so nice and got us in right away; it was one of those drive-through tests and actually not even that far from the mall in an inconspicuous building, and all I had to do was roll my window down while the lady shoved the stick into my nose while spinning it, and it felt like it went straight back though I don’t think that’s possible; it was a bizarre, peculiar feeling that I also thank God lasted no more than two seconds, probably, because it about killed me afterward. The sensation, like it had went into my brain, and then my throat burning…yuck. Not a pleasant thing in the slightest, but like I said, it was quick, so that helped a lot. They said no news was good news and that we’d get a call by “evening” (or like three hours, she said, but Mom and I were both like that’s not evening but okay).

The mall saved me, though, of course, and it was one of our best shopping trips ever, like putting the times I’ve gone on my birthday to shame. We talked to my dad before heading into the mall—I had Mom tell him I only died a little with the test—and they were both so gracious about me enjoying the day and having fun, and that’s what I tried to focus on: trusting God with the outcome and being all in the moment. Letting my mind dwell, obsess…I know people say this all the time, but it’s true how when you take your eyes off God, you do become engrossed in anxiety.

Because the truth is, if you’re not putting Him first and letting your trust belong to Him, nothing else can cheer you up or sustain you the way you need to be for something like this. When I was a little kid, for instance, and something happened to my mom where she was in the hospital, not even cheeseballs or my grandparents coming down would make me feel better, and it’s the same with this. You have to be secure in Him, living completely for Him rather than things to make you happy. Otherwise, you’re just grasping, and experiences don’t hold a candle to such powerful feelings of anxiety, despair, etc.

When deciding to include this part in my post, that’s why. I’m not blogging all this to rub in everything I got shopping, the food at Olive Garden, or even the time I got to spend with my mom, great as any of that might have been. I’m blogging it to show that those things were only all the more precious to me because I know my identity in Him. I don’t just focus on Him when it’s convenient or when I’m in the mood to, I try to focus on Him all the time, even when I’m not happy with Him, because He’s shown me through His mercy how that is the only way to abundant life. I have seen firsthand countless times where I’ll be hanging out with people where we’re supposed to be having fun whether that’s eating out, hanging out, etc., and their mind is not completely there because they’re dwelling on other fixations, worries, etc. And I’ve been that girl many times—just ask my mom…

So that’s why I’m blogging this. I hate showing off and it’s not supposed to be about that. My relationship I have with my mom is precious to me, but only because we are both secure in Him. Shopping and eating out can be very enjoyable, but only when you’re resting in Him. The key to life, regardless of any circumstances, is having Him at the center. You’re not going to drown out any pain by trying to achieve more, whether that’s experiences, memories, or even relationships. It’s knowing Him intimately that then colors every other aspect of your life, and you can see Him in everything—or the stark lack of Him in others’ lives and in sinful lifestyles.

End sermon…for now. My point that I really want to get across on this blog, though, is how God and living for Him and going out and having fun are not mutually exclusive, but you have to be pursuing Him to have any sort of meaningful fun. It was that knowledge of my relationship with Him that ultimately allowed me to relax enough to be completely in the moment while shopping. It was knowing I had been talking to Him every night about this surgery, studying His Word and being encouraged in Him, and the prayers being said for me on behalf of other godly people and the people He has put in my life to encourage me. When you make Him your everything, you see Him in everything, and that’s why I was, peculiar as this sounds, able to enjoy my surgery. Able to make the most out of it, the day that led up to it and during the hospital. Because like I said, you see Him in everything, including unpleasant circumstances. And you also learn that, in those circumstances, He can tuck in some of the biggest blessings.

After visiting a few of our favorite stores we both needed a snack, and Mom remembered a place that sold pretzels, which I thought I’d try, too. Mom got the traditional cheese to dip it in, and I decided to try vanilla…like frosting. It was pretty good; the only thing that I didn’t like was how the pretzel was so warm whereas the vanilla was completely cool; if the vanilla had matched its warmth, such as when vanilla melts on top of rolls and what not, I think it would have been a lot better. I mused about how one day…when I would feel like shopping and be able to eat again…I would have to try this marinara they had because the pretzel tasted a lot like a breadstick, so I think it would have made a great combo. I love how on blogs you can just ramble about things…we’re supposed to be talking about my jaw and here I am offering my two cents on which dip is best with a mall pretzel. “I’ll keep it brief” mmk.

Most of the damage took place at Marshall’s, which is a good place to do the damage at because everything is so cheap. I was shocked when we went to Sephora as I told Mom with some money I had I wanted to get a new shower product, and then when I found the one I wanted at an unsightly price and told her I wasn’t going to get it because I didn’t want to pay that much (wait for the sales… 😉 ), I was so shocked when she just grabbed it and was like, “I’ll get it.” All I’ll say is, you can definitely tell I was having a major surgery the next day, because usually on our shopping expenditures Mom looks at 90% of the things I like and says something to the effect of how overpriced and ridiculous that is. I was very happily surprised.

We dropped the bags off at the car then before going back for more haha, and I got a couple books at Barnes and Noble for a price that astounded me for one of them in a good way this time, since they are usually so expensive. I also made one last stop at American Eagle and bought a pair of black jeans with my own money—Mom retired to the bench at this point—because one, the sweet sales girl asked what I was looking for, sent me to a dressing room with said black jeans, so then I felt obligated to buy them, but two, I have such a thing for jeans that are tight and actually comfortable. Leggings get boring after awhile and jeans (that can be almost as comfortable and fit the same!) add so much class and depth to any outfit, so I have quite a little fetish for those, too. This pair was plain black, and American Eagle has the best stretchy styles. I spent basically everything to my name there but didn’t regret it. Someday if ever I go out, I will never need to buy anything. Still probably will, though. 😉 It was too cold for pictures when Mom and I went back into the mall together, but we did get one together:

Olive Garden was fabulous, and honestly it was just one of the most special days of my life. I didn’t actually think I would die in surgery, but I was content to go out that way if I did, the day was that great. We checked in at the hotel around 3ish and then went back to Olive Garden, which was basically just down the road from the mall. I loved the hotel we stayed at, too—it was in a sort of remote location just off the main interstate by the mall, so it was easy to get around. We stayed at the Raddison and I would definitely stay there again.

Okay, I just have a thing with hotels…I really like them. I’ve said before I wouldn’t mind having a job that allows me to stay in hotels frequently… I just love the comfy beds and clean sheets and fluffy pillows, the elegant bathrooms, smooth carpet, the hallways, this hotel had such a pristine lobby complete with a fireplace near the entrance and subtle music that made me nostalgia because it was a bunch of pop songs I remembered from my childhood… I don’t know, it’s probably silly, but I rarely come across a hotel I don’t like, even though their features might be basic or comparable to something else. Just the excitement of being somewhere new and putting away the worries of the world… I think I get too romantic about it, but I don’t care, that’s how you enjoy life. 😉

After getting settled in and worrying some about our loot getting stolen (it didn’t, haha, but Mom had bad experiences in the past), we made our way back to Olive Garden. I had originally planned on going to Olive Garden for dinner because I had a bunch of these steroids I was instructed to take the night before surgery that were supposed to help the swelling (you will see pictures of me after surgery and wonder how effective they really were, though I’m sure they were, but…all I’ll say is if I got any more swollen I think my face would have blown up like an over-inflated balloon…just wait for it) and anyway, I was supposed to take them with food. Seeing as I wanted Olive Garden to be my “last meal,” I thought we’d go then. However, I had to take the pills closer to bedtime, and Mom and I eventually reasoned it’d be easier to head to Olive Garden as a late lunch and perhaps order room service or something that night at the hotel. I’m definitely glad we decided to do that; it was nice to enjoy Olive Garden without any external duties like that, and plus we both were starving after the laborious shopping trip. 😉

Every thing about this place is delightful. I miss it so much; it’s at the top of my list of places to eat when I get off these dumb diets, and Mom and I have already agreed we’ll go after my check-up in March. I miss the pasta, the bread, the Andes mints, even the salad! And they just kept the bread coming… Bliss. Mom loves Snapchat filters and got Snapchat just because of that, which I taught her, and Hunter finds it outrageous, but we love those and she took so many of me…

Hehe I love this one…because Olive Garden and no regrets.

When we settled in to the hotel for much longer this time, I of course took millions of photos of everything I got, and then I had fun posing in front of that lovely, convenient mirror they had. Mom just chilled behind me on the bed, as you’ll see, but she got quite a bit of stuff, too, which I was happy about; it’s fun when everyone scores. I remember reading a Christian blog post about how if every time you see a mirror you check yourself out and how that’s not good…haha. Honestly I was so hyper this night; I’m usually a pretty chill, mellow girl, but maybe there’s something about a major surgery that makes you let loose… :’) I don’t know; I just remember teasing Mom about how the steroids have a side effect of hyperactivity and I was like wait until I take those tonight… I just had a good ole time enjoying a mini fashion show I put on for myself and dancing around and yeah…fun times.

Mom bought a couple of these cute bookmarks that are magnetic so they just fold over and clip onto your page without ruffling it at all; they’re so cute and she let me have this one, which the message was extra fitting for given my circumstances. Rejoice in God; rejoice in today, regardless of what tomorrow brings.

One of about a thousand pics of me losing it…and Mom just chilling. I took a bunch of pics of her, too, none of which she appreciated, like one of her at Olive Garden taking a bite of her salad and she looks like she wants to kill it. I’d post it so we could have a more even distribution of photos here and perhaps you wouldn’t think I’m quite as conceited as I look, but then she’d kill me.

We also had the coolest moment while chilling on our own beds surfing through the TV channels; of all the relevant movies I could find, Twister was on! It’s moments like that where I truly do think I’ve experienced God’s favor, even though that is not the most godly movie… It actually has taught me some poignant lessons, though, thank you very much, that tie right back into what He has been trying to teach me. I still think the line “You gotta move on and look at what you got right in front of you” is so iconic and what this society and people are missing desperately. If they had just done without all the language and tasteless ~occupational~ jokes of one person in particular, it wouldn’t have been bad at all. But that was cool, so we enjoyed watching it. Eventually, we decided to venture down to the restaurant/bar in the hotel to see if we could get a menu for ordering room service later. I loved walking down the halls and back to the lobby where the restaurant had that dark, nightlife feel to it with dim, cool blue lighting. I also got a picture of this stunning view outside one of the windows, and then I wanted to find the pool, not that I was going swimming, but it was so pretty, too.

We decided we didn’t like anything on the menu—if I remember correctly I don’t even think we knew what half of it was, ha (we just need Olive Garden please), so anyway, we then decided maybe a run to Target was in order to get some bottled water (we tried hunting for that at the fitness room and weren’t successful haha) and Mom wanted new sweatshirts for pajamas since she’d forgotten hers at home or something like that, and then we decided we’d bring Subway back. I decided to opt for something semi-healthy as my true “last meal,” ONLY because after checking the time every hour and never getting a call about me testing positive, I was bound and determined to have this surgery, so I didn’t want to get sick or anything like that. It wasn’t a bad choice; I ended up eating my whole sandwich (AND WHAT I WOULD DO FOR ONE NOW!) and then took the steroids; that made me a little worried to take them just right because the last thing I wanted, again, was to throw up and have to reschedule. Thankfully, I didn’t have any issues. I also don’t think I got any more hyper than I was already. 😉

I also picked up this huge Reese’s heart at Target and bought a super thick fork to cut it with (we needed new forks anyway, so Mom bought a bunch though the ones she bought weren’t as thick as mine haha), although I didn’t even end up eating the heart because I got full after eating my whole sub (and chocolate chip cookies), so now that heart is packaged away sitting somewhere and I’m dying to eat it, but do you think I can? Nope, but we’re getting there. Only about a week left now.

So anyway, on our way to Target, Mom just puts in the nearest one, and we set out. ALL THE LIGHTS AT NIGHT ♥ You can’t really see it from this photo, but on the horizon where some of those lights are coming from is where you could see the children’s hospital. We would actually go straight, which takes you through Coralville into Iowa City (they had these gorgeous lights wrapped around all the trees downtown), and if you were to turn right here, that hooks you back up with the interstate and route to the mall, which you drive by. That’s also the way we’d go home.

You know the drill, man plans his steps but God prevails…we found ourselves taking entirely too long to get to the Target at Coral Ridge Mall—where we thought we were headed, HA—and going the entirely wrong way. It’s not too long before we find ourselves deep downtown Iowa City. What an experience, though! I should have took more pictures of all the campus buildings and dorms. I was just recording it all. It does look like such an urban, fun campus… I don’t regret choosing ISU but dang, it made me swoon. We kept going around in circles because Mom was frazzled and I was a bit distracted to say the least, but we did find the Target! It was the strangest thing, lodged into these buildings in the downtown like any other random store. I was like, we cannot go there. :’) We went by the old state capitol building like three times, Mom went through like two red lights not knowing where she was going haha but thankfully no one got hurt and no cops saw, before making our way back out to go to the mall. It was very educational and a fun detour, though! I’ve never really seen Iowa City before because the stadium and hospital are right on the edge. This is one of the screenshots I pulled from my video of the old capitol, all lit up:

After that, we chilled in our hotel the rest of the night and got ready for bed, though I didn’t plan on going to bed until at least midnight as that’s when I had been before and with any nerves I was expecting to have. One of the Fast and Furious movies was on with Scott Eastwood that I halfheartedly watched while getting ready for bed, but he wasn’t in it as much as I would have liked. I checked in with Facebook; the outpouring of encouragement and prayers was overwhelming, and I was so thankful to God for giving me people that would be praying for me. I already knew I was safe with Him regardless, but it was nice to be thought of as well. My dad made a really nice Facebook post for me, where most of it came from, and then he posted some updates afterwards, as well. Knowing I had people praying or at least thinking of me was definitely a boost.

This is also why I was so happy I got some books so I could read before falling asleep. I took a pic of my mom settled in and didn’t ask if I could post it so I may get killed, BUT MOM YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. YOU ALWAYS LOOK BEAUTIFUL. ♥ And truly, without her love, devotion to God, and support, this surgery preparation/recovery would not have been nearly as smooth as it was. God definitely shows Himself through certain people and she is certainly someone who allows Him to do His work through her.

When I actually fell asleep, I slept well. The bed and pillows are always so comfy, and this hotel was no exception. The only thing was, we had turned the heat up as much as our hearts desired since at home, Dad is always hot and, especially in the summer, cranks the air to ungodly temperatures. That’s why I hate complaining about being hot; however, I really can’t stand being hot while going to bed. I can’t stand being too cold, either—I haven’t forgotten this experience in this post—but there is something that makes it hard to fall asleep when you feel too stuffy. Also, I envy people like my mom, who truly have a gift from God in that they fall asleep as soon as they lay down, and they sleep in one position and don’t move, all night. Even on ordinary nights, when I could be dead tired, it’s rare that I fall asleep when I’d like to, and I move nonstop. That’s why I told Mom we needed our own beds. The positive, though, was that it allowed me time to talk to God, reflect on the day and coming day (because sometimes when you go like that, it’s hard to slow down enough to speak your thoughts to Him). I always pray to Him, well, all the time, but before I go to bed is usually when I like to go over all my requests and just dump everything I’m feeling and looking ahead to, etc., on Him.

The only downside to that is sometimes I fall asleep, but one book I read on prayer had such a beautiful quote about that like how you’re falling asleep in His arms because I used to always feel so guilty when I fell asleep before finishing, so it’s just the way I like to be close with Him most. I’m not a morning person and I usually don’t feel like thinking about anything when I wake up, so night works better for me for talking through all my requests in advance for the coming days. With that being said, I had no worries about falling asleep while praying this night! Thankfully, it wasn’t nerves or anxiety, I was seriously just HOT. I had plenty of time to thank God for all the blessings, both from the day but also for my whole life, to pray over every aspect of the surgery, including peace throughout my body the next morning as well, to just trust and know it would be okay, and just to get my heart right with Him and secure in Him. And then imagine how much I ramble to Him especially when I’m tired… I think we had a great conversation; wish I remembered everything I said—I’m sure He does—but what I most definitely did not forget is all the positions I went through while praying until finally there came a point where I was laying diagonally across the bed, all the sheets and comforters in a ball on the side of my legs, and I told God He’s probably thinking look at that poor fish, she can’t stop flopping around. Eventually I do think the sheets made their way back on top of me and I fell asleep blissfully. Eventually…

The Day of Surgery

Now for the gory details you really came for. Up until this point, I was expecting about a five hour surgery…with both of my jaws being broken and then realigned…and did I know how I was going to survive that, no, but I just tried not to think about it too hard and trust that God would take care of me and work through the surgeons to let it all go as well as it possibly could. I was pleasantly surprised with how well it went getting my wisdom teeth and a few extras out the year before, so I was praying for that again, all the while knowing this surgery was a lot more intense.

When I woke up, I knew it was the big day. I remember being tired and I think almost making us late again, but that bathroom was small and Mom spends about as much time as I do in there, so I think it was mutual. Everyone always seems to be dressed before they think about waking me up, too; that literally happened every day on our trip I believe. Every time, I open my eyes, everyone is dressed or up and on their way to be, and I’m still laying there in bed. Well, it’s not easy being a fish; I probably literally do a tiny cardio workout with how much I change positions anyway—I HAVE A RIGHT TO BE TIRED.

I also remember feeling a bit nauseous but only because I think I was hungry and sometimes I’ll feel pangs like that, but of course I was like what if the steroids do it to me now… Mom thankfully is a lot more practical and levelheaded than me; she’s a great person to go through crises with. This was the beginning of the end of food for me, too: I wasn’t allowed to eat anything after midnight. All I had was a sip or two of a glass of water.

Mom and I had talked and figured out our arrangements already for what stuff we were keeping in the car and what was coming into the hospital; she took the clothes I would change into on the way home out of my bag and put them in hers so she had as little stuff to carry, so I helped her bring stuff down, and before I knew it, we were on our way to the hospital for the big ordeal.

I don’t remember excessive anxiety. I don’t even remember worrying much. Of course I probably had concern, but I remember, more than anything, that peace God gave me and my determination to focus on Him rather than let myself obsess about it. I was determined this time not to get to the hospital and start having a panic attack, and I knew only focusing on Him and each moment at a time would allow me that. Praise Him for the peace He gives and for allowing me to enjoy those final moments with a clear, focused mind. I had the previous day’s memories to remind me of His faithfulness as well as the assurance that I knew I had prayed everything I needed to to Him and surrendered, so I knew He had heard me and would continue to be faithful.

It was still dark when we made our way out and over to the hospital. I don’t think we had any problems finding our way this time. Actually, we may have had to go around the block once because I think I called something too late with the turn for our parking ramp. Or maybe that was at another visit. You know, we’ve made about every mistake finding stuff you can make, so I don’t remember what happened when anymore. But I don’t think we were very late. I remember when we entered their beautiful children’s hospital—it’s that place the Hawks wave to in football—the front desk and check-in was enormous, it felt like. So much open space to walk, high ceilings, and all that. I remember even when they came with us on the elevator to our floor, the elevators were huge, but I suppose when you’re moving people in beds around, you definitely need that. It was such a pretty place.

I didn’t see much of it at first because after checking in and going up the elevator, we came to another floor where I checked in once more. They took my height and weight and told Mom where the cafeteria was and apologized to me…because yeah, I was at the beginning of the end there. This floor I believe is where Mom would hang out after I went back for surgery, and there was a beautiful view of the sprawling city and stadium, but I don’t remember as much about that view as I do the one in my room. I also don’t have any pictures to show of it until then, but the first picture I have is when literally right about after getting checked in, my name was called and we were taken to the room where I would be up until getting taken back for surgery.

Also, when we were checking in just before, this was when I got the first inkling that maybe I wasn’t going to have both jaws done. When she read the time of surgery, it was marked as like three hours, and I remembered for both jaws it was supposed to be closer to five. I asked her that, but she didn’t have the details on what all was being done. Still, I had some hope that maybe at least it wouldn’t take as long.

When I got settled in my room, I had a nice nurse doing all the standard things like blood pressure and such. One thing I will say from here on out and gush about is how nice everyone was. I was astounded and very grateful for how well everyone took care of me and how much they genuinely cared. I thanked God for that because it truly made all the difference to be working with people like that.

Okay, even gestures like this mean everything to me. I made Mom take this picture because I said aww, how sweet that they do this. Just another way they make things personal and caring.

Things got down to business quickly, which I appreciated. Less time to wonder and worry, which might I add, I had not had a panic attack yet? All glory to God. Again, I just stayed focused on Him, knowing He was there. Having sweet nurses like Kelly certainly helped, ones that are so easy to talk to and friendly. I didn’t feel like I was there for some catastrophic thing; they do an amazing job of helping you know you’ll be very well taken care of and that they’re there for you.

I got changed into this thing right away. Not what I had in mind for a gown, I will definitely say that. As you can see from the picture, I really enjoyed it. Actually, so when I first got into this thing, I was like I am freezing and it feels like a cardboard box, BUT. When I sat back in my chair and they came back in, they showed me that there are actually places where they hook these big tubes up, like the kind my brother has for his vest, and it actually pumps hot air into the gown. So it ended up being very warm and cozy; I think that’s what I need at home to survive the long summer months at home in my icebox house…

Now, the next photos you see will be the ones you’ve been waiting for aka after the surgery, so just hold your breath because first I have to touch on what happened that I remember between this point until then. As my nurse was finishing things up, another nurse and my anesthesia nurse came in. She talked through that process with us with me going under and was so knowledgable, assuring, and competent, which was very nice to hear, as that was one of my concerns about being under anesthesia for such a long time. She assured us about the rarity of risks especially given my age and health, what it would be like and what she would do, as well as some of the discomfort I may feel upon waking up with the breathing tube they would insert through my nose during the surgery. Talking with her was such a comfort, and I continued knowing God had His hands over this, so I was able to remain relaxed.

Oh, there is one thing I could go without mentioning but it is part of what happened and kind of, um, fun to talk about… So I was supposed to take this pregnancy test, and at first my mom and I were like ohhkay but I understand they have to do it so I was like okay I’ll try, even though I didn’t know how to say that I really knew I wasn’t pregnant, but again, it’s part of the routine and I know why they have to do it. Haha, unfortunately, the measly two drops of water I had I’d taken care of before leaving the hotel, so I gave up after feeling like I was in the bathroom forever, and I was like, I’m sorry, I don’t think this is going to happen. Ugh, I felt bad about it, but they were very understanding. We ended up “refusing” to do the test, and again, we talked about how it’s something they have to do to cover their bases legally, and I totally get that, as they don’t know me, and they don’t know how sure I am that I’m not pregnant, etc. That probably took the longest out of all the prep just because I tried to get them what they needed and yeah. Funny thing is, though, that the day after my surgery when I was still in the hospital and just before heading back to my room after visiting with my surgeon and doctor, I had to go to the bathroom. I had Mom come in with me because I still wasn’t the most stable on my feet with moving like that, and then I discover…well, you know what happens to females. That was actually something I prayed about, that I would not get that in surgery for a bunch of people to discover or have to deal with while in surgery…so it held off until the day after, haha. I knew I wasn’t pregnant. Told you you were getting all the gory details.

Anyway, after that, things did move along quickly. We had to do my favorite part, the IV. Oh gosh, I hate needles, and sometimes I think it’s one of those self-fulfilling prophecies I make worse in my head by thinking about the logistics of it…I don’t know. I can handle shots—though I don’t like thinking about those, either—because they’re in and out, but I knew the IV would stay, and I think that got me a little disheveled. They were very gentle and talked me through it; I don’t look, but I can always feel when it hits, even when talking. It didn’t hurt too bad, but again, the fact that it stayed there I think made it linger in my mind, so then I felt lightheaded or dizzy, so they went and got me a hot washcloth, bless their hearts. They say that’s totally typical at times, but I think I let myself overreact a little bit. Either way, they were once again so supportive and attentive to my every need, and the washcloth did help me relax again.

Shortly after, my doctor who was the resident helping the surgeon—Dr. Sherwood, he’s very nice, knowledgable, and fun to talk to—came in with some other people dressed mostly in scrubs/masks and all that. I do remember him asking me if the IV made me lightheaded, and I was like no, I think I just freaked out, but it was all good, haha. He talked to us a little bit about everything that was going to happen again and what to expect. I also found out that I DID only have to get the upper jaw done! I don’t know if we missed his call or what because he felt bad that he thought he’d called us to tell us that (we were told to plan on both jaws unless we heard otherwise after they planned it). I couldn’t have cared less, though; I was just happy it only had to be one jaw and that it would be the upper, as that had slightly less risks. Then it was time for me to go.

They helped me walk over to my bed and get situated so I was laying down. I remember lots of people hovering over me—I don’t remember seeing my surgeon; I don’t think he was there yet because I think he would have talked to us if he was, but this is where I started losing parts of things that happened—but I remember this is where I lost it emotionally. Tears started spilling out, and I felt this overwhelming degree of emotion wash over me. It wasn’t fear, and I meant that. It was truly like a bubble of peace, love, joy, focus, triumph, etc. Like everything God had ever done for me and His love for me and the love I had from others and the memories of the special day before and all that I’d had before that just enveloped me, making me so beyond grateful to have made it to that moment, to know He wasn’t going to leave me, etc. I told them, “I’m not scared, I’m just emotional,” and my sweet anesthesia nurse then gave me a whole reassuring spiel about how it’s okay to be scared and what not—I told you, I can’t say enough about how truly kind they all were—but I really don’t think it was fear. I’m sure that may have been there, but it was being overwhelmed with the peace of God and the knowledge that He was taking care of me.

I told my mom I loved her and then I was off. This is where I start losing the exact details because I was thinking I told my mom stuff like thank you for everything and what not, but when I asked her what I said, she said we just said we loved each other and then bye and it’s “see you later” not “bye” haha because I probably did act like I was going to die, but really, I try to say everything I think when I think it so it’s not like I have to give this grand speech when I think I’m going to die. I don’t think I thought I was going to die, but I knew things would be different when I woke up again, and the unknown like that can be daunting. But anyway, I thought I heard someone say something like “how sweet” when my mom and I were talking. I don’t know now if that happened or not, but that’s probably what made me think I said more than I really did, haha.

As I was being wheeled down the hallway, I think my sweet anesthesia nurse kept talking to me—I don’t remember much, though, so don’t hold me to that—but I DO remember repeatedly telling God how much I loved Him. It was that overwhelming emotion I felt and His presence that just left me at a loss to say or think anything else. I needed Him to know that. Then I was in the surgery room. It looked pretty much how I would’ve expected it to look; I don’t have a super clear picture of it because I wasn’t conscious in there for very long, but I remember a lot of silver like in the walls and those overhead lights associated with surgery. I also remember it being much roomier than I expected with it looking more like a big kitchen than a small, cramped space. But a lot of people were in there with me I saw, so I’m sure they needed that. My nurse then started the anesthesia. I remember her asking me about some nature setting I preferred—the beach was an option, so of course I chose that—and then I remember her rubbing my arm, taking me visually to the beach, painting pictures of it through talking to me until like two seconds later I was out of it.

Now here come the pictures!!!

So, here I am in the recovery room (and the pictures get even worse, so stay tuned). I thought this room was the same one I had been in before, but Mom said it wasn’t. I don’t remember what I thought or felt when I first woke up. I may have at one point, but it left me fast. I do remember this sweet nurse asking me if I was ready for my mom and then to go to my room at the hospital, I think, and I said yes. Because then I remember my mom coming in and saying hello to me. I think I was still out of it, though, because Mom said I was in pain, but I don’t remember being in pain, but maybe for once my mind suppressed it, HA, but I remember being annoyed because when we left the room and such I remembered all these things, and then I got to my hospital room, took a nap for awhile, woke up, and then I couldn’t remember as much. Remembering things is very important to me, if you haven’t already figured out. But I think I remembered all the big things I wanted to and I had Mom to fill me in on the rest. I’ll let you gawk at the picture now before I explain more about how the surgery went.

They had another sweet sign! I wasn’t able to tell Mom to take a picture or maybe I did and don’t remember, but I trained her well enough that she knew to take lots of pictures for me, and she didn’t let me down! Anyway, at some point back in my room probably, Mom told me what the surgeon had said about my surgery. I had well-praised and renowned Dr. Fridrich, who definitely lives up to his reputation; he is extremely talented and also very kind and easy to talk with. Mom had one of those things while waiting where it alerts you when the doctor wants to speak with you. They also had a texting service Mom opted in to and she had Dad get it because she knew he’d want it where it texted all the updates, like the patient is in surgery, it is proceeding, the surgery is done, etc. Mom met with Dr. Fridrich and so many of my—and our—prayers were answered in that conversation. Mom told me Dr. Fridrich said the surgery went as well as it could have—which is practically about the phrase I prayed to God, more or less. He talked about what they did and how there wasn’t much bleeding, which should make for an easier recovery as well as since I only had the upper jaw done, I guess the nurse I had doing my anesthesia was one of their best ones, which I definitely was not surprised to hear, and that my vitals all looked great throughout. He said it was a “perfect alignment”—I’ve seen him twice and it cracks me up, “perfect” and beautiful” are the words that come out of his mouth most when he looks at my jaw so praise God, haha. He thought I would really like it. I think I wrote most of the important things. He probably detailed some other technical details about the surgery or recovery, but I think this was the gist of it. I just remember being so thankful to God and rejoicing in His faithfulness yet again when I heard that. Knowing the hard part was done and it went good.

Also, he told Mom something to the effect of how I was very sweet and he could tell I had a great personality. In all seriousness, I’m not writing that to pat myself on the back; rather, that was literally another answered prayer of mine. Anytime I go under like that where I’m not all there afterwards, I always worry I’m going to say something or act like I wouldn’t want to, and this time I was worried I would be rude to people in my pain, and what if I snapped at the people trying to help me? I was concerned about that so hearing him say that made me so thankful to God yet again. It’s kind of funny, too, because I have absolutely zero memory of talking with him, yet I’m sure he obviously did talk to me. I must have been completely out of it, though, or my mind just lost it. In my mind, I talked to him the first time the next morning after surgery at their dentistry college, so I just find it funny how I remember absolutely nothing, but thank God he had good things to say about working with me nevertheless.

My mom took pictures of me as we headed to my room in the children’s hospital. What a beautiful place, if I haven’t said so already. You can also see how big the elevators are in this picture. I was on one of the highest-level floors and I got a window, two more things I prayed for! I LOVED my room. I remember admiring the blush salmon color of one of the walls, and this hospital bed I was in was actually very comfortable. Just wait for the mask to come off…

We had a beautiful view. The stadium was just off to the left, so my room was on the side of the hospital.

And let the pictures begin…

The room was fantastic and so comfortable. I had this big TV to myself or Mom could watch it, but there was also a smaller TV right off to the left of this one for her little area. Then off to the right was the door to the spacious bathroom. I was happy to go home obviously, but I would miss that room. It was honestly fun recovering there. I was also surprised with how much ease I could talk. After my nap, I think I talked all night long. I was so thankful and surprised I didn’t feel much pain, which probably made me euphoric haha because I don’t think I stopped talking much at all.

There’s this castle-like structure on the top of one of these buildings I’d noticed at previous appointments and Mom and I had thought it was so cool, so she got a picture for me as that was part of the view, too.

This is Mom’s area of the room. It was very nice, but I did feel bad about her bed; I don’t think it was as comfortable as mine from what she told me!

So I was a little off to the left side of the hospital from the perspective of sitting at the stadium or the right side from my room’s perspective. When I went to the Hawkeye games with family last year, we sat on the side facing away from us, so when we would wave, we would turn around and the hospital would be right there, hovering over us in the background. I always knew soon I would be there, so it was a little surreal to finally have made it to this point.

When I woke up, I was LOTS more talkative and easygoing. I had nurses constantly checking in that I have to rave about because I loved them; Bailey was my main nurse and a total sweetheart, but more often than not on the first night I would also see Lyndsey, her assistant, and oh my gosh, I loved both of these girls. They were so incredibly tender and kind. I had actually heard horror stories from my parents during their long hospital stays about rude nurses and what not, but these girls were literally angels. I especially had a fondness for Lyndsey; she helped me at one of my more embarrassing moments and gave me the most unconditional, reassuring kindness and support ever. She was so fun to talk to and let my guard down around; she told me I entertained her with stuff I said about my face, but really, you’ll see some close-ups of my face and you’ll understand.

So there you have it, only looks like I have two golf balls in my cheeks and received like ten thousand lip injections, no big deal. It was kind of unfortunate since I already have puffy cheeks and full lips…didn’t really need any enhancement there, but it is what it is. To my surprise, everyone who saw me was actually always raving about how great I looked. I was like please, you don’t have to flatter me to make me feel good, or perhaps they were talking about the jaw alignment itself…either way, I’ve actually never been told I look great so many times from people as I was during my stay in the hospital, so I joked with Mom that all the guys at my school could take that.

Also, this photo was taken later in the evening, so now at this point you can see I got some of the tubes removed. Lyndsey was also a gem about helping me go to the bathroom; when I say she saw me at my worst, this is what I mean, so here’s another too-detailed story. Okay, so one of the residents from the dentistry college was coming to see me; I didn’t know if they would or not because they said sometimes they check on the patient that night and sometimes it’s not until the next morning. Conveniently enough, right before then, I need to go the bathroom, and it’s my first time going after surgery. So Lyndsey helps me get all the stuff I need to disconnected and then helps me walk in there and get situated…and then she went out with Mom who was also there to give me some privacy because I don’t think I can perform on command haha it’s funny but yet made me want to die, only during surgery, I ended up having a caffeter, which is that tube they put up you so you can go while you’re in surgery. I think because of that, they said, I could have trouble going. Anyway, it was the most frustrating, pitiful thing because I KNEW I had to go but I just sat there like I did with the pregnancy test willing something to come and it just wouldn’t. And then to top it all off I knew I had a doctor out in the hall waiting to see me.

I got pretty upset then. I don’t know if I even cried a little or what, but I just remember apologizing and Lyndsey was extremely relaxed and compassionate, asking me why I was apologizing and that I had absolutely nothing to apologize for, and she was just so kind and understanding. It really took that burden off and allowed me to accept being cared for because these people truly wanted to take care of me and didn’t want me to feel any trace of pain or worry, which I just found so admirable and was so thankful to God for. She didn’t have one problem with helping me through all that and seemed flabbergasted that I would even apologize to her for it. I can’t remember if it was her or Bailey who told me this, too, but they were like, the doctors are on your schedule, you’re not on theirs. 🙂 They were just the best, and I thank God for them. I do tend to be someone who worries about asking others for help because I don’t like to burden anyone, and it was during this time they really helped me accept being taken care of and didn’t let me feel like I was a burden whatsoever. I appreciated that so much.

I felt like I chatted away most of the night and just enjoyed it there. I loved my TV; Scott Eastwood in The Longest Ride was on, so that always makes a girl feel better. He’s such a nice guy, he came to see me in the hotel the night before and then visited me again in the hospital. I watched that *HIM* for awhile until the ~shower scene~ came on and Mom changed the channel… I also felt more comfortable and able to use my phone, so I got to chat with my cousins and respond to everyone on Facebook with their sweet comments. I got to change into a regular gown, too!

When night fell, I instructed Mom to take lots of pictures of the view illuminated with all the lights. I loved seeing all that just right off to my side, though I preferred the warm, dim lighting when the curtain was shut, too. The view was even more stunning at night, though:

I also played around with Snapchat. Just trying to highlight my best features. 😀

I also got to FaceTime the boys at home including my beloved WILLY! I thought my brother would call me every form of ugly in the book, but surprisingly, he didn’t say anything. I suppose being traumatized will make you silent. Anyway, I took a couple screenshots throughout our conversation, but there’s one of myself that in hindsight actually makes me want to die laughing because of how much of a potato-head I look like, so I zoomed in and decided to post it for all the internet to see. Well, we keep it real on this blog.

I think National Treasure came on TV, too, which is one of my and Mom’s favorites. I drank a lot between my water and apple juice. I had everything out of a syringe at first. My nurses were amazing at checking in to give me my meds, which were also in liquid form in a syringe. Thankfully, none of it was horrible as far as taste. The hard pain medicine wasn’t the greatest, but it wasn’t disgusting, either. That always numbed me into sleeping satiation even when I felt motivated to be awake and looking at my phone. I was able to get one of my tubes disconnected because I drank sufficient fluids. I also tried ordering some stuff from the hospital that night, which Mom helped me with. It was super easy to do from my room digitally. This was the start of my liquid or no-chew diet. I actually loved everything I ate at the hospital. I believe the first night I requested mashed potatoes and chocolate pudding; that pudding tasted a lot better than the kind you buy at the store, which I’m not a huge fan of, but of course we bought tons of that for me beforehand. We also ordered my breakfast and had that scheduled for the morning; I got vanilla yogurt, which was fabulous, and applesauce. I also had this banana stuff where it was obviously liquefied, but it was really good. This was the beginning of the end, though, and about the only time I enjoyed the liquid diet. Unfortunately, I had a month of this.

The night in the hospital went very well for me. Before she left for the night, I was able to talk to Lyndsey and thank her for how amazing she was. Bailey also introduced my night nurse to me, who was another sweet girl named Tiernan. She would creep in very quietly during the night and ask me how I was feeling and be so kind; she’d refill my syringe with apple juice for me after taking my meds. I would be in the middle of saying my prayers to God for the night—I had a LOT to say just like I did in real life haha—so I think it took me literally all night long to finish talking to Him. I’d take the meds, get situated, pray some more while sleep pulled me under, wake up again, continue remembering where I left off, etc. It was nice, though, and I wanted to be close to Him after all He’d carried me through like always and tell Him how thankful I was. The first night of sleep went pretty well for me as far as pain management. I wasn’t a fish, either!

The room was actually so comfy (well, for me; I felt bad for Mom—evidently she froze, but we had control of the temperature and I told her she should have turned it up because it was very nice for me). Also, something that surprised us both was the lack of noise. It was very easy to sleep in, and I rarely heard any outside noise. There was also a solid distance from my bed to the door, as it was a spacious room, so maybe that helps, but overall I thought this hospital was amazing. Obviously I don’t ever want to be there again given the circumstances that would require, and perhaps I shouldn’t talk about it like it was a hotel, but seriously, I enjoyed being there just as much as I did the hotel.

There was the door to the bathroom. I also DID get to go later that night! I called Lyndsey back and I was like oh gosh let’s try this again, and once again she was so kind and helpful. That’s when we—or me—were laughing about my pufferfish face because I couldn’t stop commenting about it while looking at myself in the mirror while washing my hands!

And here is all my goods. I had a tray like this in my room once I got home, too, and that was my first milestone I counted down towards, is the ten days of meds being up so I could clear up space and clean my room again. I had two big ice bags that went on either side of my face and had a tie connecting them so I could place it over my head and tighten it as needed so they would rest alongside my face. My mom’s hands are always freezing, though, and one of the things I liked best was when she placed her hands alongside my golfball cheeks and gently trace them. I also had a bunch of Kleenex and gauze to stick up my nose; one of the side effects of that tube was bloody noises, and ugh, that first night… I kept having to put gauze up there to maintain it as it was like a steady drip. I do have pictures of that, but I would like to keep some trace of my dignity. Thankfully, that did not last long, maybe a day or two after the first night.

After the Surgery: Recovery

The next day, they would wheel me over to the College of Dentistry where I would get to see my resident doctor and surgeon and talk with them about the surgery as well as things I needed to know for recovery going forward. The resident doctor who was there during my surgery actually came to visit me the next morning in my room, and it cracked me up because he literally brought a whole crew of other residents or interns with him. They were very nice and were part of the people telling me I look great, HA, how sweet. Another resident was at my appointment then and went over things like the swelling, diet, showed me how to brush my teeth, etc. This day, a lot of the fatigue caught up with me and I wasn’t as talkative as the day before. My surgeon was very nice and impressed with how things looked, which I was so thankful for. I was able to change into my pajama top and sweats for the ride home back at the hotel. This is what I looked like the next morning, still like someone out of a nightmare, so bless anyone who flattered me:

I got to chat with Bailey a lot in the morning again and tell her goodbye. I unfortunately did not get to see Lyndsey again, but the nurse who assisted with wheeling me around everywhere said that she told me hi. We also spoke with a dietitian again before leaving in my room. We had to wait a million years at the pharmacy, too, to pick up these antibiotics I would have to take and everything I would need as far as pain meds. It was so cold outside, so bless the nurse’s heart that took me all the way out to our car in the parking ramp. I would actually miss this room!!

Mom was such a saint and always there for me. She helped me get settled in my room and reminded me about all the meds and such. I could hear her making a mess in the kitchen the first time she tried making something for my liquid diet. 🙂 There was definitely a learning curve to it all. The first night was pretty good; I was tired more, and I think Willy was afraid of me, though as excited as I was to see him, we had to be careful with making sure he wouldn’t get up in my face. He was pretty good about that, though. I think he did want to sniff/kiss my face, but he listened when we wouldn’t let him get too close.

Here’s the good ole syringe I had to use for awhile. Eventually I was able to drink clear liquids with a straw, and then I just moved on to drinking out of a cup when Mom went back to work a week later because I was too lazy to clean the thing out, though at that point I did not need it anymore, and by the time of my next appointment, roughly a week later, I had been long done with it, which they said was good.

This is the little area Mom had set up for me. I had to take my antibiotics for ten days, and I was so glad when that was finally done because then I could get rid of this tray and just keep the ibuprofen on my nightstand. It was handy having everything there in the beginning, though. I also would sleep mostly upright like I did in the hospital, which I wasn’t a huge fan of in my own bed—FISHES NEED TO FLOP—so after I got cleared to sleep in my normal way I was thrilled for that, except I never realized how much I like to sleep with my face leaning into the pillow. I like to sleep on my back primarily so I thought I would have no issues, but that was—and actually still can be—annoying until everything is healed. My whole face was and still in certain parts is swollen and tender/somewhat numb.

Also, a little horror story about the antibiotics: I had to take these four times a day, for ten days, which was hard to get into the routine of right away, but then it was all fine. However, they gave me pills because they said the liquid form is horrible, and when I first was home, I was like, how am I going to take that? At this point I was still using a syringe to take liquid ibuprofen. So, Mom tried breaking open the pills and mixing the powder in with applesauce once or chocolate pudding another time. Oh my gosh, without the grace of God, I would never have eaten those things ever again, which would have especially been terrible for me to lose applesauce because that’s what I live off of for my fruits. It was the most vile thing. I had something similar like this happen after my wisdom teeth, where I needed to take my pain pills and was eating ice cream and could not even taste the flavor of ice cream because it was overcome with the taste of my own blood. So disgusting, so after like one day of that, Mom called them to tell them I would feel nauseous because it was so awful, and they said I could try swallowing the pills if I felt able to. I was like I’ll do anything and, thankfully, unlike with my wisdom teeth, my entire mouth was not numb and I could taste and have sensation of where the pill was, so I was able to swallow them from then on. Then I have horror story #2 on my first full day at home coming next.

The next day, Mom was going to leave me for a little bit to go pick up some more stuff I needed at the store and to pick up my textbooks for my new college courses from my school. Before she left, I took my pain meds and was feeling all loopy and satiated; the problem was, I had not eaten enough with all the meds I took. Then she leaves and I’m laying there, enjoying the numbing peace, until I start getting these stirring sensations in my stomach that I recognize. That’s when I knew something wasn’t right, and that eroded the peace I’d felt. It was not long after the inevitable sensations took over, bringing me to my knees on the bathroom floor as I puked what little I had in my system up. Well, thank God it didn’t hurt, my jaw, anyway. I had to deal with the taste, though, and tried to clean out my mouth as best as the tenderness of my jaw would let me. But it was awful. That was definitely one of the worst days. Some of the days following it tested my patience, too. I started feeling gross, spent most of my time in bed, was always hungry and got sick of instant potatoes pretty quickly, wanted to do things and be productive but had no energy, etc. I did laugh a lot, and my family was very supportive, which I was so thankful for. My dad told me it would test my patience, and yes, that it did. There’s nothing I love more than having my patience tested! 🙂

Willy didn’t understand why I couldn’t play rope with him, but he would lay in bed with me and keep me company after he got used to the potato-head. Also, my dad’s workplace sent me these beyond GORGEOUS flowers a couple days after me being home! He actually had gotten home from work, and right after him, I saw this white HyVee van, and I received this breathtaking bouquet; they must know me well, all that pink and the sparkles… That totally made my day and weeks so much brighter. I was so grateful and in awe. The gesture was so kind and appreciated.

They looked beautiful and right at home in my room. Even the vase was drop dead gorgeous.

I also want to thank everyone for praying for a good recovery for me. I was able to still feel like myself, talk well and such, just was a lot more tired, but I was tired all the time before this surgery anyway, so what’s new? I got sick of the no-chew diet fast; most everything was in a liquid form for me during the first couple weeks or had some liquid element to soften it, even the instant potatoes. Towards the end, we got more creative, though, like with mashing up chocolate chip muffins to the point where I could swallow bits of them with milk. Dad also thought I would be able to swallow mac-and-cheese, and when I found out I could swallow normal bites of that without modifying it, I asked for that like everyday. I also loved cookies and cream ice cream and had that frequently towards the end. Primarily at the beginning, it was instant potatoes, so now I don’t think I’ll be in the mood for those again for a very long time. I feel so much better now that I’m on my soft-chew diet and can actually chew; I had to remind myself of that at first, like I can actually chew this now, I don’t have to gum everything. I had a whole list of things I wanted to eat, and I’ve eaten most everything on my soft-chew diet that I can, and I already only have a week left of this before I don’t have anymore restrictions.

Willy was such a good boy through it all. I was so glad I had him to keep me company, especially when I was home alone during the days. 🙂

This was after my first bath since I got home, ugh, haha. I always take showers, so the first week when I could only take baths wasn’t something I enjoyed, and I needed help with almost everything near the beginning, so praise God I had my mom who said she loved taking care of me. Nice change from being the boys’ slave, I guess, though of course there’s never a break from that. 😉 I couldn’t have done it without her and am so blessed to have had her and her compassion.

I felt so bad when I couldn’t play rope with Willy; usually I did that everyday when I was home alone with him. That smile! ♥

This was a picture Mom took my first time going out with her to the store, though I just stayed in the car.

This is what some of the liquid stuff looked like near the beginning. Much of it stayed the same throughout, but nearing the end I learned to eat more stuff in solid form that I could still swallow. This was Spaghetti-O’s all ground up, which was actually good. Near the end, though, I was able to just swallow normal Spaghetti-O’s without doing anything to them.

I also thank God that I’ve been taking almost all college courses this year, and during the spring semester, which started a week after my jaw surgery, I only had two online classes. It was easy for me to work on them during recovery and, once again, Willy kept me company throughout the day.

I think I mostly covered everything with my recovery. Near the end, I got up to Estherville to see my grandparents, who also were so loving and helped take good care of me. It was nice to see them again. Now I can’t wait to see them when I can actually eat! I still don’t look 100% back to myself, though I know it takes time. I would say most of the swelling has gone down, but there is still some swelling in my cheekbone area, and my upper lip is still sensitive as it is slowly coming back from being numb and being like a thousand times its normal size. But I feel like I am at least starting to look recognizable again.

I panicked when I felt a disposable stitch one day when I was exploring my mouth with my tongue, thinking it was just something on my braces, until I realized it was up too high for that. My dad and doctors assured me that’s normal and that eventually they’ll just dissolve. I also realized later on that I have stitches at the front of my upper lip, too, and those annoy me because when I go to brush my teeth, they can get moved around if I’m not careful. But I think they are starting to dissolve. My ortho also tried cutting it a little; it was so fun seeing them and *just* talking to them at my last appointment! They have been anticipating this day for me as much as I have. I just thank God everything went as well as it did and that He’s carried me through this far. I would have had this post up a lot sooner, but I wrote way more than I intended to! ~surprise~ Anyway, thank you so much for reading and for praying and thinking of me! Your kindness and encouragement has been a gift from God to me! ♥