Welcome to Braced In Faith: Why I’m Starting this Blog
Hi, and welcome to Braced in Faith—a space I created to document one of the most challenging (and faith-stretching) seasons of my life.
I’m a 45-year-old single mom to a beautiful toddler girl and two older sons. After years of dealing with severe jaw misalignment, braces, and all the emotional ups and downs that come with it… I’m finally scheduled for double jaw surgery on July 10th.
It’s scary. It’s overwhelming. And it’s honestly a bit lonely—especially navigating this while raising a little one and trying to keep up with life. But I’ve felt God tugging on my heart to share this journey, raw and real, with anyone who might be walking through something similar.
This blog is not just about surgery.
It’s about:
Healing (physically, spiritually, emotionally)
Motherhood at a later stage in life
Trusting God in the unknown
Preparing for recovery and counting down the days
Creating faith-based tools and resources to help others heal too
I’ll be sharing updates leading up to surgery, what I’m packing, my recovery meal plans, Amazon finds, scripture-based encouragement, and maybe a few teary posts on the hard days too.
If you’re a mom, a woman of faith, someone healing from surgery, or just someone who feels braced in your own battles—I hope this blog meets you with grace, honesty, and hope.
We’re braced in faith together. 💛 Thank you for being here. Truly.
When Faith Feels Heavy: My Honest Truth Before Surgery
This is the post I wasn’t sure I’d write. Not because it’s hard to put into words—but because it’s hard to admit out loud.
I’m a single mother, and I’ve struggled financially for a long time. I’m not proud of that, but it’s my truth.
I raised my boys on faith and fumes. There were so many years I felt like I was barely staying above water. But when they grew up and became more independent, I finally had a moment to exhale. I was working hard, building something better, and trying to break generational patterns. I truly felt like I was finally catching up—finally starting to live instead of survive.
Then I found out I was pregnant again.
Unexpected. Life-altering. A moment that pulled me right back into the familiar exhaustion of figuring out how I was going to make it all work again.
I love my daughter. Deeply. Fiercely. She is not a mistake. She is a miracle. I believe God sent her to save me from myself—from burnout, from brokenness, from settling for less than what He has for me. But the truth is, I feel like I’ve been set back 20 years.
Now, I’m right back to paycheck to paycheck. I still hustle—but now with restraints. I can’t always pick up extra shifts. I can’t always take opportunities when they come. I have a toddler who depends on me for everything, and there’s only so much of me to give.
And with jaw surgery coming up… I’ve second-guessed it more than once. Not because I don’t need it—it’s medically necessary. I’ve already put it off for years.
But because I know that taking time off work means falling behind on bills. Again. That weight keeps me up some nights.
Still, I’m trying—no, choosing—to trust God to carry me, both mentally and financially. It’s not easy. It’s not tidy. But it’s necessary. I thank God that insurance is covering the surgery—that alone is a huge blessing and answer to prayer. But there are still so many unanswered “what-ifs.”
What if I can’t pay rent in full? What if I can’t get out of bed to take care of my daughter? What if this recovery is harder than I imagined?
These are the thoughts that swirl in the quiet moments.
But here’s what I do know:
God has never failed me. He has walked me through worse. And I truly believe He will provide—whether it’s through rest I didn’t know I needed, help I didn’t expect, or provision that shows up right on time.
This post isn’t wrapped in a pretty bow. I don’t have the answers. I’m just here to say: if you’re walking through something hard and trying to hold it all together with a whisper of faith—you’re not alone.
I’m with you.
One day at a time. One breath at a time.
Provision, Perspective, and the Pain Before Surgery
I woke up yesterday morning expecting a small sense of relief. It was the day my EBT benefits were supposed to hit—something I rely on every month to help feed my daughter and myself while we navigate life, work, and everything in between.
But when I checked my card, the balance was gone. Stolen. Used by someone who had my information and spent every bit of it before I even opened my eyes.
My heart dropped. I was angry, hurt, and panicked. How was I going to feed my daughter this month? How could someone do this? And the worst part—I knew there was little to no chance of getting those benefits reimbursed.
I sat there in disbelief, crying out to God—not just out of frustration but out of complete dependence.
And then, slowly, something in me shifted. My perspective changed.
Maybe… just maybe… God allowed this to happen. Maybe He saw that I had started to place more dependence on man-made provision than on Him.
I’ve been depending on that card like clockwork—counting on it, trusting it. But God whispered to my heart: “I am your daily bread. I am your source. Not the government, not a card, not a system—I AM.”
And that hit me hard. Because I realized how uncomfortable it is to be pulled away from the familiar, even when the familiar is barely enough. But God doesn’t call us to comfort. He calls us to trust.
With jaw surgery just weeks away, I’ve already been second-guessing everything. How will I afford to take two weeks off work? What if I fall behind on bills? How will I care for my daughter during recovery?
And now, this? No food assistance for the month on top of it all?
It would be so easy to spiral. But instead, I’m choosing to smile today. Not because it’s easy—but because I trust the One who holds my entire month, my surgery, and my healing in His hands.
God is going to feed this household. God is going to sustain my strength. God is going to carry me through surgery and recovery. And God is going to remind me that He is enough—even when everything else is stripped away.
So no, this post isn’t about victory just yet. It’s about faith in the middle. It’s about clinging to God when it feels like everything else is slipping through your fingers.
And it’s about believing—truly believing—that He will supply all of my needs according to His riches in glory.
One day, one step, and one prayer at a time.
And my God will supply all your needs according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus. — Philippians 4:19
Pre-Op, Prayer, and the Pain I Didn’t Expect
On Wednesday, May 21st, I had my first pre-op workup appointment for my jaw surgery.
This is the moment that made everything feel real. No more just talking about surgery. No more just wondering when. It’s happening—and it’s happening soon.
And while part of me felt excited, another part of me felt nervous… and unexpectedly emotional.
🦷 What They Did at My Pre-Op Appointment
If you’ve never had a jaw surgery workup, here’s what the appointment looked like for me:
X-rays — multiple detailed X-rays of my teeth and jaw to check positioning and structure.
Dental molds — they took impressions of my bite to create physical models of my upper and lower teeth.
Intraoral and facial photos — a full set of pictures showing every angle of my bite, face, and jaw.
Blood pressure check — just a basic vitals check to make sure I’m cleared for next steps.
That was it—no blood work yet, no EKG, just the imaging and physical records they need for surgical planning.
Simple in structure… but not simple in emotion.
😔 What I Didn’t Expect: Feeling the Weight of “Alone”
The hardest part of that day wasn’t the molds or the machines. It was the quiet drive there—an hour away, by myself.
Usually, I’m okay doing things alone. I’ve done it for years. But this time felt different. This time, I felt vulnerable. I cried in my apartment before I even got on the road. It wasn’t because of fear—it was something deeper.
It hit me how physically alone I was in this. Not emotionally, not spiritually—but physically. No partner to drive with me. No hand to hold. No “I’ll be waiting in the car, babe.”
I thought about couples—how they support one another through hard, life-changing moments. And it stirred up a longing I didn’t even know I still had.
It’s been over a year since my relationship with my daughter’s father ended. And no, I don’t miss him. I don’t desire to date or dive into anything new—I’ve been focused on healing. But in that moment, I realized I still have hope.
Hope that one day, God’s love for me might be expressed through someone HE created just for me.
✨ Choosing Faith Over the Familiar
The devil would love to twist moments like this—use them to stir up bitterness, regret, or isolation. But I’m learning to shift my perspective quickly.
Because the truth is, I’m not alone. Not in the ways that matter most.
God was with me in that room. God was with me in that chair. God was with me as I clenched the steering wheel through heartache.
And He is still with me—strengthening me, stretching me, and preparing me for everything ahead.
This isn’t just a surgery journey. It’s a faith walk. A stripping away of control, a revealing of wounds, and a refining of my heart.
So if you’re in a season where you feel unseen or unsupported—where you’re carrying things solo and wondering if anyone notices—please hear me:
God sees you. God knows. And He hasn’t forgotten your heart.
Even in the silence. Even in the prep room. Even in the waiting.
What I’m Buying to Prepare for Jaw Surgery Recovery (With Amazon Links!)
As my double jaw surgery date gets closer, I’ve been deep in research mode. I’ve joined jaw surgery Facebook groups, read endless blogs, and scoured Google for real tips that actually help during recovery. One thing is clear: preparation is everything.
Today, I’m sharing what’s on my list to make recovery smoother, easier, and a little more comfortable as a single mom navigating this big journey. All of these products are highly recommended by others who’ve been through it—and I’m linking them below so that you can easily check them out too.
💡 Affiliate Disclosure: As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases at no extra cost to you. Every little bit helps support this blog—thank you!
1. Feeding Syringes
👉 Buy it on Amazon These oral syringes are perfect for the first few days post-op when you can’t open your mouth and need to syringe pureed food or broths directly in. I got a multi-pack with different sizes so I can use them for everything from smoothies to soup.
Why I love it: Easy to use, less mess, and gives me more control when I’m weak or swollen.
2. Squeeze Bottles with Nozzles – Better for Long-Term Use
👉 Buy it on Amazon I’ve heard from multiple Facebook groups that these plastic condiment-style squeeze bottles are even better than syringes once you’re a few days in. They’re easier to clean and hold more liquid—perfect for smoothies, protein shakes, and broths.
Why I’m buying them: More independence + less mess when I’m on the couch and don’t want to struggle with a syringe.
3. Jaw Surgery Recovery Journal (Optional but Helpful!)
[👉 Buy a healing countdown journal here – coming soon to Etsy] As a woman of faith going through this at an older age and with a toddler at home, I need a space to track prayers, feelings, meals, and milestones—so I’m creating my own printable: Mom’s Healing Countdown: Faith Edition.
Why I love it: Recovery isn’t just physical—it’s emotional and spiritual too. This keeps me grounded.
4. Extra-Soft Ice Gel Packs
👉 Buy it on Amazon Swelling is NO joke after jaw surgery. These gel ice packs contour to your face and stay cold longer than regular ones. I plan to rotate a few so I always have a fresh one ready.
👉 Buy it on Amazon Sleeping upright will be my new reality for a while. A comfy U-shaped neck pillow will support my head and neck so I don’t wake up stiff or accidentally roll over.
Why I’m buying it: Better sleep = faster healing.
6. Face Wrap Ice Pack (Hands-Free)
👉 Buy it on Amazon This genius wrap fits around your head with built-in ice pack pockets to target your jawline. Great for the early swelling stage—and you can walk around without holding anything.
Why I’m buying it: Practical and pain-relieving. Great for multi-tasking moms!
7. Liquid Multivitamins + Protein
👉 Buy it on Amazon You won’t be eating solid food for weeks, so nutrition matters big time. I’m stocking up on liquid vitamins and unflavored protein powder to mix into smoothies and soups.
Why I’m buying them: Nourishment without chewing = energy and healing support.
8. Humidifier for Post-Surgery Dry Mouth
👉 Buy it on Amazon Many jaw surgery survivors say their mouths get dry due to breathing through their mouths and meds. A quiet bedroom humidifier can keep the air moist and soothing.
Why I’m buying it: Less dry mouth = more comfort and better sleep.
9. Soft Silicone Baby Spoons
👉 Buy it on Amazon Even when you can start spoon-feeding, you’ll need super soft, small spoons that won’t hurt your swollen lips or gums. These baby spoons are perfect.
Why I’m buying them: Gentle on healing jaws + easy to clean.
10. Blender or Immersion Blender for Smoothies + Soups
👉 Buy it on Amazon A powerful blender is a must-have. From pureed meals to creamy shakes, you’ll be blending everything. If you already own one, great. If not—don’t skip this.
If you’re heading into jaw surgery like me, these are the items I’m investing in to make recovery manageable, less stressful, and even a little more comfortable. I’ll share real updates and how each item works for me after surgery!
Feel free to bookmark this post or share it with someone prepping for orthognathic surgery or double jaw surgery—especially if they’re an older mom like me, balancing healing and motherhood with grace (and a lot of prayers).
Stay strong, stay prepped, stay blessed!
The Silence Is Loud: A Mom’s Heart Before Jaw Surgery
As I sit here in the quiet of my home, something feels off. Yesterday, I dropped my daughter off with her father so I could get some much-needed rest—and for a while, I was relieved. I actually slept well, something that hasn’t happened in a while. My body, tired from the emotional and physical load of motherhood, welcomed the break. Besides, I don’t get a break too often.
But I woke up at 11 p.m., and the stillness hit me. I picked up my Bible, read a few passages, and then scrolled on my phone for a bit. And then… the missing began.
The house is so quiet. No soft giggles. No babbling. No tiny feet pacing around behind me. Just silence. And in that silence, I realized just how deeply my life is wrapped around my daughter. She’s 22 months now, still nursing when we’re together, though she clearly doesn’t need it to get through a day—or even a night—without me. She’s growing, becoming more independent. But still, she’s my everything.
Being a single mother, my days are full of her. Every decision, every plan, every thought is centered around her well-being. And in moments like these, when she’s not near, I feel a bit lost. I start to wonder—is this devotion a strength or something else? I’m not sure. But I do know this: I’ve chosen to raise her with as little outside influence as possible. I’ve chosen presence over everything. And I don’t regret that.
As I prepare for my surgery, that truth feels even more raw.
I’m facing a major procedure that will require me to be out of commission for a while. And I keep thinking—how will I rest if she’s not here? But also, how will I rest if she is here? It’s such a strange place to be in: needing healing but feeling torn about stepping away from my role, even briefly.
This surgery is a big part of my journey, but so is motherhood. They are happening at the same time—me being broken open and reshaped physically while continuing to pour myself out emotionally. I know I need this recovery period. I know my body and mind are asking for rest, for space to heal.
And yet, the silence? It’s loud.
But maybe, just maybe, this season is teaching me something: how to let go a little, how to care for myself without guilt, and how to believe that stepping back for a moment doesn’t make me any less of a mother.
It might just make me a stronger one.
Dear God, I’m Afraid—But I’m Still Saying Yes to Healing
Dear God,
You already know what’s on my heart, but I need to say it out loud anyway. I’m scared.
I’m trying to be strong. I’m trying to smile through the nerves. I’m trying to convince everyone — including myself — that I’ve got this. But Lord, if I’m being honest, the closer I get to my surgery date, the more my chest tightens. Not just because of the pain I might feel, but because of all the unknowns.
Will I be okay? Will my body bounce back? Will my daughter understand why mommy can’t hold her for a few days? Will the silence in this healing season feel too loud?
There are so many questions. So many moments where I want to cancel everything and crawl back into my comfort zone.
But God, I also know this:
You didn’t bring me this far to leave me. You saw this surgery before I ever did. You knew I’d be standing right here — jaw trembling, hands open — afraid, but still willing.
So Lord, I surrender.
I surrender my fears about recovery. I surrender the “what ifs” that keep swirling in my mind at night. I surrender the guilt I feel as a mom, worried about not being able to do it all.
Because the truth is… I can’t do it all. But You can.
Help me rest in the promise that Your power is made perfect in my weakness. That healing isn’t just about the physical — it’s about trusting You with the process, the pain, and the purpose.
Remind me that this healing is bigger than me. It’s a declaration — that I choose life. That I choose health. That I choose to believe You still have plans for me that are good, even if they stretch me first.
So even though I’m afraid… I’m still saying yes to healing. Yes to the journey. Yes to the discomfort. Yes to the miracle You’re working in me — one step, one stitch, one breath at a time.
And when the swelling comes… When the nights feel too quiet… When I miss the sound of my little girl’s laughter while I’m resting…
Hold me. Speak to me. Remind me I’m not walking through this alone.
Thank You, God, for being a healer — not just of bodies, but of hearts, minds, and souls.
In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Running on Empty — But Still Holding On to Faith
This past week has been a blur.
I’ve been feeling so fatigued lately — like my body is running on fumes. Lightheaded moments have become too frequent, and Wednesday night was the worst. I pushed myself to go into work, even though I felt dizzy and completely worn down. But I had to. I simply couldn’t afford to miss another shift.
I’ve already had to take off the last two Sundays — the first because I was coughing so badly and felt absolutely awful, and the second because my dad had surgery the next day, and my boss couldn’t find staff to cover a partial shift. Life has been showing up hard this month — emotionally, physically, and financially.
I’ve had bouts with low iron throughout my life, and I’m starting to recognize the signs creeping back in. The exhaustion. The brain fog. The waves of dizziness. So, I’ve made some changes. I just started taking my iron supplements again and being much more mindful about what I eat. I used to rely on coffee and little snacks throughout the day, barely eating real meals. Now, I’m cutting back on caffeine (which wasn’t easy — I’m a two-cups-a-day girl) and slowly switching over to healthier teas and iron-rich meals. I’m trying to be more intentional with my nutrition, especially with jaw surgery just around the corner.
Yesterday, I had a virtual appointment scheduled with my anesthesiologist, but I had to cancel. A Spark (Walmart delivery) shopping trip came through, and I had to take it. My food benefits were recently stolen, and I’m doing everything I can to put food on the table. Sometimes survival doesn’t wait for perfect timing — and as a mom, I don’t get the luxury of choosing. I rescheduled the appointment for next Wednesday, hoping all will go smoothly.
And if that wasn’t enough, Father’s Day is tomorrow, and my middle child turns 18 on Tuesday. My heart wants to celebrate in all the ways he deserves — but financially, I’m not there right now. And that hurts. I’m praying things get better soon.
This season feels heavy. Some days I’m on autopilot. Other days, I’m holding back tears. But even in the chaos, I’m still preparing — not just for surgery, but for healing, for peace, for better days.
To anyone reading this who’s juggling a thousand things and still trying to show up for everyone else: I see you. I am you. And I believe we will come out of this stronger.
One intentional choice at a time. One prayer at a time. One day at a time.
Sunday Reflections, Sweet Moments, and a Quiet Strength
This morning started off a little rocky. I woke up feeling lightheaded—something I’ve struggled with from time to time, especially when my iron dips low. It’s a familiar feeling: a little dizzy, a bit off-balance, and not quite myself. Thankfully, I had my iron pills on hand. I took one, ate a good meal, drank water throughout the day, and slowly began to feel like myself again.
My one-year-old daughter and I headed out to pick up a Walmart grocery order I had placed Saturday night. I added a special treat to the cart this time—a cookies and cream cake for my dad. We were celebrating him today at my mom’s house for Father’s Day. The house was filled with laughter, food, and warm conversation. It was a simple gathering, but the joy was in the togetherness. My dad loved his cake, and we all enjoyed ourselves.
This morning, before everything got going, I opened my Bible and found myself in Proverbs. It’s been a while since I’ve made time to just sit with the Word. In fact, it hit me that it’s been at least 5–6 months since I’ve physically been to church. When I used to attend, I struggled to focus—my daughter is still so young, and it was hard keeping her seated. She always wanted to breastfeed, which would pull me out of the sanctuary just when I needed to be filled up.
I remember sharing with the church leaders how helpful it would be to have a designated childcare space, even just a small room, so mothers like me could truly receive the Word without constant interruptions. But nothing ever came of that conversation. Eventually, I had to choose what worked best for us—watching service online. It’s not quite the same, but right now, it’s what gives me peace. And honestly, peace is something I cling to more tightly as my jaw surgery date gets closer.
In the midst of everything, I’m still creating joyful spaces for my daughter. When we moved into our apartment, I came across the cutest wall decal for her room—it had playful animals and soft colors. I just had to get it. The look on her face when we put it up was priceless. She kept staring at it, wide-eyed and smiling. It was one of those little moments that reminded me why I push through hard days, why I keep showing up even when I feel tired or uncertain.
As surgery day approaches, I’m holding onto moments like these. The unexpected joy. The slow mornings. The celebrations that remind me of love. The quiet strength that comes from caring for my daughter while navigating my own healing journey. Some days are lightheaded and foggy; others are full and beautiful. But through it all, God has been faithful. Even when I feel far from the church building, I know He’s near—right here in the living room, in my healing body, and in the little eyes looking up at me.
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