Today is one of those days where my heart is heavy. That rubatosis is ringing in my ears and my breaths feel deep and slow. The weight on my shoulders just a little heavier.

I sat in the doctor today trying to wrap my head around this life of mine that spins madly on. Do you ever go into a doctor having pre diagnosed yourself? I had created this alternate reality. One that carried all the answers I wanted to hear. But really it went something like this:


Is my blood pressure as crazy as it feels?

Dr. D:


(oh, okay — doctors have a way of easing your worries)


Is the altitude really effecting it this much?

Dr. D:

Yeah, it really seems so.


Well, we wanted to come here today to talk about a plan.

Dr D:

A plan for what?


We’ve decided…

Dave interrupts


We’ve just seen over and over again how much the altitude messes with her and we can’t keep doing this to her body, it just doesn’t seem natural. And maybe we’re crazy but it’s felt like in so many words everyone keep hinting that we could have things better if we weren’t here.


We’re moving to Austin. We already bought a house.

Dr. D:

Oh my goodness, this is great news. You are going to feel so much better. And your life. I really think it’s going to be yours again. I honestly don’t think you will need these meds anymore. You are going to feel so so much better. I really think you will.


Her excitement and reassurance almost caught me off guard. I’m not sure why. She, other doctors, my body, God — everyone’s been telling me that this is what would help me. But (and this is where my alternate reality had gone differently) I just assumed she’d say it might help but it’s sort of an overreaction. But nope, it was like she couldn’t simply tell us to move. Because no, I don’t have to. Just like I don’t have to stop looking at my phone when I am driving. But it would probably be smart to quit doing that.


Oh… wow! Well getting off the meds would be great! And how will I handle coming back to visit Colorado? What is my medication dose?

Dr. D:

um… well…

She basically went on to reinforce to me how much my body responds to altitude. And that by acclimating to sea level and then coming to Denver and continuing on up another 5,000 feet to our parent’s mountain homes I’d be really pushing it. Like, getting dangerous. Like, risk of a stroke. Like, “not be around to see my babies grow up, graduate, get married, and live these beautiful lives to the fullest” type of dangerous. And realistically, she said I already run that risk today. These meds are effective but they’re not miracle workers.

And it all sunk in. I’ve been in and out of the hospital and surgeries and exams and taking these little pills day after day for years now. But it was this moment that it really hit me.

We’re moving. We’re going to Austin, Texas. Right now. Basically getting the hell out of Dodge. Or altitude or whatever. All of the sudden the big things felt small. Those snow capped mountains outside the office window. Our incredible families and their beautiful mountain top homes where we’ve sledded, and ridden a bike for the first time, opened presents on Christmas as it snows outside, played with cousins and aunts and uncles. Saying goodbye to those things has been burdening and breaking my heart. And don’t get me wrong, it’s so hard and it’s so sad. But it just finally sunk in. And it sort of turned my burden and woe-is-me feelings into being thankful for what could be ahead. Dare I say, hope?

And as I am writing this, I couldn’t be more excited. I spent last weekend in Austin with my man. And we walked the city streets. And found the most tiny mid century modern home of my freaking dreams. In a neighborhood where I can picture my children running the streets with the freedom I would kill to feel at this very moment. I want that for them. And I know they’ll have it. I came home from that city wanting to blog again. And connect with others. Something I have been frustrated to crave because most days my body and my heart are just on such different pages. This life I see there. Right now it’s just a vision. A hope. A dream. But man, it is everything. 

And this new place might just turn out to be medication and sick-mommy free. Full of inspiration that I thought only a city like Denver could bring me. But that’s shit. This world is full of incredible and inspiring places. They’re all around us. And I just know that Austin is one of them. The people. They feel like us. Like me. And as much as I’ve dug my heels in and begged the Lord for more options, I just know that there is a life for us over there on the other side of the Colorado River.

It’s new and scary and full of the unknown. But in the unknown lies potential and hope. And dammit I haven’t had much of that lately.

So here we go y’all. TEXAS FOREVER!

My mom keeps quoting the verse in the bible about Abraham going not knowing. Seems appropriate right about now:

By faith Abraham obeyed and went when he was called to go, even though he did not know where he was going. — Hebrews 11:8