The Grit That Got You Here

    Over the past few weeks, after announcing that I felt a calling to do cookie coaching, I have had the pleasure of spending time with women, all baking entrepreneurs, from all parts of the country. The roles and life stages of these ladies vary but there's something that I've noticed they all have in common- something that, ironically, few of them probably realize they possess. Grit. I love that word. It's raw. It's Dolly Parton and John Wayne  rolled into one. It implies an ability to roll with the punches and survive- to have the wherewithal to just make it happen. Whatever IT may be. Like the ground corn that we Southerners prefer with shrimp, its edges are rough and jagged. But place it in the right environment and partner it with the perfect accents, magic happens. Suddenly, it's soul satisfying and smooth as butter. In the same way, many of us have taken life's roughest moments and turned it into something beautiful and fulfilling.
    I've yet to come across a cookier who said to herself senior year of high school, "I'm going to go to college and get a degree so I can work from home making cookies." Pretty sure my parents, who were generous enough to cover my college tuition, would have had some doubts had THAT been my plan all along. Don't get me wrong, Steve and Kathy are as supportive as parents could possibly be. But (Imma take a leap here) NONE OF US ARE HERE BECAUSE THIS WAS THE PLAN. Life happened. And grit was born.
    Eight years ago this week my absolutely perfect life of thirty years disintegrated in a matter of days. Our marriage took a hit. I was a stay-at-home mom of a 4 and 2 year old and 17 weeks pregnant with baby number three. Forty-eight hours later, I'm shattered in pieces but sitting in an ultrasound room with two toddlers running WILD. Completely wild. I was too dazed from the aftermath to even care but I clearly remember the hum of their circus playing out all around me. Typically an appointment to find out the sex of your child would be filled with joy and anticipation. I was numb. I hadn't even told Rex I was going to the doctor, much less invited him. Nothing could've prepared me for what I was about to find out: No heartbeat. Our baby had died in utero two weeks prior, according to her measurements. And the seed of grit was planted.
   They say tragedy hits in threes and for me in the fall of 2009, that was never more true. A week later, still recovering from my procedure and mourning the loss of......well several things, it was hard to pick what to grieve first......I get an overwhelming maternal intuition that the rash on 2 year old Trip's face and the bumps on his fingers aren't "nothing." They are something. And I have to figure out what. My mission over the next 10 months was finding a diagnosis for my son's bizarre symptoms. Endless hours on the internet were spent researching. I mommed up and spoke to doctors in a way I never would have imagined. I was a full-time mom with a degree in marketing and at one point, I was educating THEM on what Trip's symptoms indicated. I was telling them what to go look up. I pressed and pleated and didn't take no for an answer. And they started to listen. I was getting grittier by the day.
    Finally, in July of 2010, a doctor confirms the diagnosis that I knew to be true six months prior, juvenile dermatomyositis. A whirlwind of trips to a specialist in Chicago commenced and countless doctor visits and treatments. His daily medicine regimen alone was exhausting. During one of our first trips to Chicago I ended up in the emergency room myself. Why? Because I couldn't breathe. Why couldn't I breathe? Because I had forgotten how. After a year of extreme levels of stress and anxiety, the brand of anxiety that only a terrified mother would know, I began to hold my breath and didn't even realize it. My body had lost it's instinctual rhythms which left me feeling breathless constantly. I began seeing a therapist that helped me learn to breathe again, literally and figuratively. I slowly began to piece myself back together again but day-yum was I gritty! I had survived the worst that life could offer and I knew it. I found a whole new level of confidence by the simple fact that I had survived! I began to envision myself doing things that I never would have considered had life not handed me lemons. I had come in touch with a strength that I never knew I had.
    I'm thrilled to say that Trip is now ten and healthy as a horse. We even got a family Make-a-Wish Disney vacation out of the ordeal. Rex and I will celebrate fourteen years of marriage next week. Marriage is a constant journey of peaks and valleys but we have a committed partnership that makes me proud. I look forward to meeting our baby in heaven one day and the two I have on this earth make my cup overflow with joy and pride everyday.
    Why am I telling you this? To remind you of the grit that brought you here. By the simple fact that you have chosen this path of working it all on your own, day after day tells me that, sister, you're tough. You're a fighter. You take risks in order to provide what's best for your family. You refuse to accept anything other than a path that brings you and those you love immense fulfillment. You took a leap of faith and made sacrifices to get to higher ground. Many of us encountered a deep loss or trauma that paved the way to the decision to put aside an education and career path to start a baking. business. out. of. our. house. Many of us realized that the path we were on simply was not ideal for our children so we got resourceful and made a new path. Some of us were simply brave enough to be true to ourselves by not continuing in a career that wasn't life giving. Yall, that is GRIT AS SH$T. (I'm tempted to start that hashtag but my mother would not appreciate it. Nor would Jesus.) But seriously, if you are here, you have IT in you. You have it in you to raise those prices to what you're worth. You have it in you to say NO and to not take more orders when you know you're booked. You have it in you to teach that class you've never taught. You have it in you to charge your sister for those cookies. You have it in you to take whatever that next step may be. So go about your days with confidence and not hesitation. You got this. Cookiers. Grit as sh$t.