I'm going to let myself ramble. Even in this chaotic crazy time I've held to my commitment to write and publish daily on Medium, but I don't feel like I have it in me to craft a polished post for this blog today. So I'll simply pour out my heart.
Early in July my husband got a summer cold. Or so we thought. Two weeks later he was still sick and so was my baby. A week after that I succombed to illness and when I fell ill I fell really ill. By the next week I was going crazy. Summer colds don't make you crazy. But mold does.
I was sitting outside at 5am after a sleepless night when it hit me. I had friends who had dealt with weird symptoms like we were having. They lived in a house with black mold in the walls. I ran inside, scooped up my baby and woke up my husband. "We have to get out of here!"
Later that day he went back and found black mold in the wall between the bathroom and bedroom.
We were renting, so fortunately we can walk away from the house. While our possessions aren't full of growing mold, they are contaminated with spores. Some of them... most... all? I don't know. I swing back and forth between wanting to be optimistic and wanting to play it safe. Part of me simply wants to start over, getting rid of everything that could possible have a spore on it.
For now baby Beyla and I are living with my parents while my husband is 1,000 miles away. He has to keep working his day job through October, so he couldn't come with us.
So yeah... technically homeless until further notice. The goal is to reunite with my husband the last week of September, but we don't know where we will be living then, nor do we know what will happen after he closes out this phase with his day job in October.
2018 was to be a year of excitement. I wasn't quite expecting it to be like this.
It hasn't been all bad. Far from it. Sure, losing our home and possibly a lot of our things is so incredibly difficult that my mind can't even wrap itself around what's going on. At the same time being able to see my parents and siblings is an unexpected blessing. Especially exciting was the fact that my sister Moriah is actually home — she's such a world traveler it can be hard to catch her when she's visiting her home base. When we arrived she was in Ukraine, but she returned within a few days and we have been enjoying the time with her.
God's provision is so unexplainable. He guides and provides in ways that are strange, but strangely reassuring as we settle in and don't push back or demand our own way. I'm seeing this in so many crazy ways during this phase. Maybe one day I'll find the words to explain...
If you've read this far, thanks for listening. This sort of experience is isolating and lonely. People all around are going through the mundane actions of life that I once took for granted and now cannot. These people simply cannot understand what we are going through.
And yet now we are stepping from the isolated phase into a phase of community rallying. Those whose lives have been devastated by mold are speaking up to say, "you aren't alone." They and others are stepping in to provide food, housing, baby things... giving us the support we need to recover.
Recovery will take time since the symptoms do not simply disappear now that the toxins are not actively entering our system with every breath. I don't know what the road will look like. I'll probably write about it. Let me know if you think I should... (I'm on social media as @jordanelisheva or you can email me at jordan @ jordanelisheva.com)