My Brain Flipped a Switch

Oh, hey guys.

I took an unintended hiatus from writing, obviously. Not to rummage through a bout of depression or anything, more just because, well....it didn't seem needed in my life at the moment.

But I'm here today. So glad you're here, too.

We left off in the week dedicated to spreading awareness in the infertility community and because of that week, I sort of hit a brick wall.

Like, I felt as though I kept running in circles and replaying all the shitty stuff in my head, and I finally had enough.

I had enough of the pity parties, of the constant need to sleep because my brain was exhausting me.
I had enough of the self-loathing, of the inability to think about the future and only focus on the past.

That's no way to live.
So about a month ago, I woke up one morning and decided I was done.

My brain flipped a switch and from that point on I started dreaming again about my future.
I committed to fully embracing my family, just as it is. I fully accepted that what we have is NORMAL and not to be judged, and I started making plans about OUR future, as a family of two. 
And I have never felt better.

I started really thinking about family, and motherhood, or lack thereof.

For the record, no one has scorned me, no one has lashed out at me or made me feel less than for not successfully procreating. I have not personally been victimized, but I have seen it happen one too many times in other's live's to keep quiet. No one has done anything to me in a negative way at all, to be honest. 
I am just attempting to dispell societal norms by giving a voice to the minority of women who are in the same stilletos as me. 

So go ahead and X out if you're unable to read a differing viewpoint without throwing a shit-fit.

I realized that I was trying to keep up with the "Jones's," so to speak, to become a mother.
I wanted to become a part of the in-crowd so badly it was blinding.
NO ONE wants to feel left out, especially when they can't control it.

Mom's these days have done such a wonderful job sharing all the up's and down's about motherhood and created this incredible bond with each other in the process.
There is SO. MUCH. written about mom-life and pregnancy and parenting and raising kids and everything in between.  You are all such wonderful, selfless people and should be acknowledged for your efforts no matter how you intend to raise your children.

But then there is this minority; the uncomfortable few that society wants to sweep under the rug and forget about. Women who either cannot have or do not want children.

And you can nay-say all you want, but what's true is true.

As a woman, you either attain your higher purpose as a mom or you might as well crawl in a hole and die because you are nothing worth talking about in society's eyes.

We non-mom's should just take all our money and free-time and sleeping-in and brunches and late-nights and shove it right up our selfish asses, right?

How often have you heard, "Welcome to the Club" cooed from the droves of other mom's, with a wink and a nod, when a new mom presents a newborn?

But what if you.....aren't a mom? What if you never make it to the club?

I understand this is not intentional, and that not everyone thinks this way, but I would fare to say that most women in society would look down on non-mom's with pity, or think they are selfish, or toss out really fucking stupid phrases like "well there's still time" or "better seduce your hubby" or "you can always adopt."

Because, obviously:
You have no real purpose until you are able to raise a child.
You have no business as a woman if you aren't crooning your brood.
You don't know the true meaning of happiness unless you are watching your child grow.
Your life couldn't possibly be complete if it doesn't contain offspring.

I am here to combat that stigma and tell those other non-mom's that it's not only OKAY but TOTALLY NORMAL to choose to stop fighting, or never fight in the first place. To back away from the chaos of trying to conceive. To move forward with your life sans kids.

Bra-fucking-vo for taking that scary step away from societal norms and putting your foot down.
Your sanity and your health are FAR more important than attempting to squeeze a watermelon out of your busted lemon vag.

I know damn well that life is completely fucking amazing without kids. Mark and I are living proof that you are only bound by what you're afraid of, and sometimes stepping outside your comfort zones is what attains the unimaginable.

There may not be droves of us women in the same boat, but there are more and more by the day. Just read the stats....the US is at an all-time-low birth-rate since the 50's.

And we need to stop feeling ashamed because of what other people might think.

It takes a shit-ton of courage to admit that maybe, JUST MAYBE...life might be awesome if we're not mom's. Maybe it is EXACTLY what was intended for us. Maybe we DON'T need to conform. Maybe forging our own path was exactly what we were supposed to do in the first place.

But I know. I get it.
It's scary to not be part of the popular crowd.
It's scary to be the odd one out.
It's fucking scary because you KNOW you are being JUDGED for supposedly NOT CARING ENOUGH.
For supposedly NOT TRYING ENOUGH.
For supposedly NOT WANTING IT ENOUGH.

But you know what?

I AM CALLING BULLSHIT.

I will continue to make my voice heard that life as a non-mom is just as valid and hard and exhausting and exciting and fulfilling and productive and USEFUL as that of a mom, just in a totally different way.

It's NOT a competition.

No one wins in this game, anyways. We all just try our best every damn day and hope to God we die peacefully in our sleep at the end of a very long and fulfilling life, preferably surrounded by a pile of puppies. At least, that's what I hope for.

Only a pile of assholes would bother judging each other, anyways.

Now to hop off my soap box....

As I said, something flipped in my brain and I woke up one day and just fully embraced my life and my future and my family and all our beautiful time together.

We are making plans to eliminate all our debt and loans and do all the things I have hesitated to do in the past....just in case....I became a mom.

But now,
There will be no more hesitations.
No more focusing on the past.
No more focusing on the what-ifs.
No more focusing on the if-only's.

You don't evolve as a human by wishing things went differently.
What was supposed to happen in your life, happened exactly as it should.

I was not meant to be a mother.
And that is totally, absolutely 100% okay.
It's not a place for pity-parties...it's a cause for celebration.

I now know and embrace my life path, and it does not include children.
So. What.

It's 100% okay to embrace the path less taken.
To carve out your own way.
To go opposite of the crowd.
To not be in the majority.

I am finding that I like the adventure of the unknown, anyways.
Thanks for reading. XO

NIAW: All The Feels

Hi guys. Happy Friday and happy good weather week!
My mood is ALWAYS guaranteed to be brighter when it's warmer, anyone else?

So, today is (almost) the final day of NIAW, or National Infertility Awareness Week.
And I won't bore you with possibly redundant details about what it is. If you're interested in learning more, head over to the Resolve website and educate yo'self.

I also guest posted over at Fertility Bridge, in case you missed that article!

What I wanted to talk about today are the feelings and thoughts that come along with this week.

When you start re-hashing your infertility journey, whether you are holding a baby in your arms or not, it starts drumming up a ton of emotions that you may have been ignoring or pressing pause to.

For me, this week has filled me with both a sense of community and overwhelming grief.
It didn't help that I got my period halfway through the week. The hormones will obviously run rampant, and I may or may not have spit some venom towards Mark about bringing in some delivery boxes from the front porch because I was feeling really sad at the time (I did that, and apologized).

You see, it is easy to fall back into the dismal past where despair and frustration and loss consumed our lives during our stint in IVF treatments. It's easy to let the sad and angry thoughts consume your entire brain. It's easy to let them win. It's easy to stop pressing forward, in whatever way, shape, or form eases you out of the normal routine of gloom and doom.

I have said it many times because it's true; knowing we were constantly met with dismal results at the end of each IVF cycle became oddly comforting, because it was all I knew, and I was well-versed in failing.

I forced myself to become uncomfortable when I said no to further treatment.
I put myself in a vulnerable position that doesn't have a forged path.
I am choosing to bow out of the grief cycle and try to see the light in a different path.

You see, it is EASY to continue the cycle of addiction that relates to "trying again" with fertility treatments. You know exactly what to expect and can easily just rewind and do it all again.
That may seem harsh, but it is so, so very true. It is EASY after you have completed one IVF cycle, to do it again. Even if it means a huge hit to your mental state and finances.

There will always be more money.
And there will always be therapy.
Right?

So why stop? Why not keep trying until it works if both of these things are technically limitless?

That answer, unfortunately, is not cut and dry. It's something that evolves over time and will be different for every. single. person. 

NIAW week drummed up a lot of the older struggles and made me start questioning if I'm doing the right thing. It made me sad all over again for our losses and made me feel less than because I never became a mom with all my efforts.

But you know what also happened during these trying years?
I met and connected with HUNDREDS of like-minded women.
We have shared stories of triumph and loss, and have laughed and cried together.

I have met SO. MANY. local couples in the same boat, and because I was blessed and fortunate to have excellent insurance coverage for medication, I donated A LOT of my meds to those in need.

And you know what?
I helped SIX couples find their dream.
I helped build SIX families.
I helped create SIX miracles.

That is astonishing to me. It would have never happened if I hadn't struggled myself.

Going through the droves of infertility has been one of the hardest lessons I have had to learn. It has shaped my life in ways I didn't even know were possible. I have gained an immense amount of empathy and understanding for other people around me. I have slowed down and truly absorbed the beauty that life has to offer. I completely understand what a miracle it is to conceive and bring life into this world. I have learned that a family is built on love, not necessarily DNA.

I will always carry grief with me. I will continue to sow it into my soul and sit with it just as I sit with laughter and confidence and happiness and honor it's presence when it wants to join in.

But I won't let it consume me.
I am too driven in my life to let anything take over so completely that it negates all my other efforts.
And believe me, there are PLENTY of pots to fill up.
There are plenty of ambitious things and dreams I am looking to fulfill, in whatever way I can make them happen.

Backing away from fertility treatments and choosing to stop spending all of our hard-earned money to make a baby does not make me weak, less-than, or a failure.
It makes me sensible to know there is a stopping point.
This was my stopping point.
It takes courage to put your foot down, even if you are putting your foot down with yourself.

I want every aspect of my life to flourish.
I want to continue to love, honor and respect my husband.
I want to continue to give undivided attention, care and love to my pets.
I want to continue to cultivate a tribe of beautiful diverse friendships, both in real life and on social media.
I want to continue to excel and find success in my career.
I want to continue to improve our home and flex my creative side to make our house a home.

And I can do it all in time. With balance. And patience. And love.

We are all worthy of the life we are willing to create for ourselves.

This is my story.

I hope you continue to follow my dreams as I am following yours.
Thank you so much for reading. XO

Grief is a fickle bitch

Yea, I said it.
Grief is a fickle, conniving, manipulative, little bitch.
It strolls in all....hey girl, how YOU doin'..I promise I won't be psycho like last time.
And me, trying to extend kindness to all parties involved, sheepishly accept it back into my life.

But dudes, once it's here...it has only one job.
And that job is to throw your entire life into a tail spin.

It makes you do things and think things that are just crazy.
It makes you believe things you don't want to believe.
It starts giving you false hope, then snatches it away.
It starts to make you feel like you aren't good enough, fulfilled enough, worthy enough.

Well meaning words uttered from friends and loved ones, are met with vile, seething, hurtful responses.

Grief isn't you. It's your shitty alter-ego.

It isn't the kind, optimistic, let-the-little-stuff-slide-off-your-back, go-with-the-flow, practice gratitude person you normally are.

I can't even recall how many times I have apologized for ugly-crying around Mark recently.
I keep thinking how psycho and unsteady I look. Turning into a psychotic puddle of tears is no way to honor my half of this marriage.

Granted, I'm not lashing out on him.
I just constantly feel defeated.
Less than.
Over it.

So, I started jumping to rash conclusions.
This is why some of you may have seen me start posting about donor eggs, and why the fertility clinic now wants to set-up a consultation.
Because in my frantic, fragile state...I ignored my heart and assumed what I needed to feel better was my child. Any child. From ANY donor that even remotely resembles me.

These feelings make me start feeling frantic and out-of-control, incredibly similar to where I was just after my miscarriage. At the time, I felt so crazy I could have been easily persuaded to steal a baby from a hospital just to have one.

Grief makes me think crazy thoughts.
The difference between then and now, is I know and recognize they are insane thoughts.
They are not me.
And I can reign them in and basically just cry through them.
I know what I'm saying is not what I actually want and need in my life.
I really still am gun-ho about our baby being our DNA.

The part I need to work on, is truly accepting my life as whole if a baby never comes.
Right now, I think what I'm doing is slapping a bandage on that part.
I kept myself really, really busy with my bathroom renovation for a couple months.
And now that it's over, my brain wanders a lot, and starts mixing up reality with wishful thinking and it can get toxic, quick.

It's actually more exhausting going through 10 emotions in one day than renovating a bathroom or surviving an Orangetheory class.

So, what I can offer is...well...not a whole lot.
Grief DOES come back in waves, at weird times, and can take over your life.
People are GOING TO THINK YOU ARE CRAZY, because you are actually acting crazy, and if they love you and know what's going on, they will pet your hair and not offer advice.
And if they don't know what's going on, firmly tell them advice is not the answer.
Answers are not the answer, if that makes sense.
It's just a pile of emotions the grief-stricken person has to work through.
It does get better. Time makes it better.

You do hurt less. And you probably don't even realize it is less until someone else that has watched you wreak havoc on yourself can attest that...yes...this time was slightly less crazy than last time.

Outside of half-heartedly reaching out about donor options, and ignoring my heart on this one, I didn't drag us back to the fertility clinic.
I didn't ignore our ever-present debt to pile on more debt.
I didn't lock myself in a closet and scream-cry for hours.
I didn't hit my husband.
I didn't break a bunch of household items.
I didn't pop a vein in my eyeball.
And I didn't let it take over my life.

So, yes...grief is less these days. But it's still there. Lurking.
That fickle bitch will be back again, and I just have to hope I have more strength than yesterday.

In the end, it's him and I

You guys have heard that song, right?
I admit, I'm not too into a lot of newer music these days, but every now and then a good beat or catchy lyrics stick with me.

In the end, It's Him and I

Apparently the singer is G-Easy (LOL), and the grammar makes me cringe, but it's damn catchy, that's for sure.

Moving on.

So, if you have been following, you know that I have been in a bit of a funk recently.
My mental state has been off and I am more sensitive and cry a lot easier.

I kept using different excuses, be it the weather, the gray skies, lack of motivation, etc.
But the reality is, I have been slipping back into a wave of grief.

Sometimes I can push aside the tough feelings, the thoughts of loss and despair.
Now is not that time, unfortunately.

It's funny how time really does wash away those open wounds.
This time last year I was still deeply battling the overwhelming emotions of grief and loss from my miscarriage, while shoving both of us back to the fertility clinic to start round four.
That hazy time seems so far away these days.

As easy as it is for me to speak openly about my struggles, I should clarify that these sad thoughts and waves of grief most certainly don't take over the majority of my day. It's actually rather shocking how many emotions one person can  have in the span of 24 hours. I have noticed I encompass most of them in constant rotation.

Frustration, despair, hurt, sadness, joy, gratitude, content.
These ALL happen every day.

I still long, wish, and hope for my baby.
I still deeply desire to become a mom and I wish every single day that I actually see a miracle happen, since I no longer have the desire or drive to pursue fertility treatments.
I am still very much set on a biological child from our DNA.
I still turn a blind eye to all the hurdles that stand in our way to actually conceiving, thinking that a miracle would need to happen to overcome everything.
I still hold out hope every single month.
I would be lying if I said I wasn't fully aware of exactly where I am with every cycle.
You most certainly don't just stop tracking every twinge and pain and hormone that shows up just because you aren't going through IVF anymore.
If you commit to tracking something that is literally within you, every month, for five or more years, it sort of becomes second nature.

Mark knows what is going on.
He knows when I'm sad and when I'm hurting.
He knows to snuggle up behind me and pet my hair.
He knows not to intervene with the massive amount of emotions that build up within me.

I am forever grateful that we went through such struggle.
What seemed like a sort of sticking point in our relationship, where I felt like I literally needed to spell out what he needed to do in my times of despair, now come second nature to both of us.

I don't know how long these sad moments each month will last.
Sometimes I get worried this is the new normal for me.
That each month that passes will be left with me wiping the crust out of my eyes because I cried just before I fell asleep, because the world just got too damn heavy for me again.

And yet, I still have so many happy moments each day that I can't help but pause and reflect on all the good in my life.
My husband is my soul mate.
I am sometimes baffled that I actually found THE PERSON and knew from the VERY beginning that we were the perfect match.

As much as we razz each other and poke fun and rough house, we are so very deeply connected on a level that most can only dream of.

I am so grateful knowing that, no matter what, baby or not, we still get each other, for as many days as we have left on this earth together.

It's the one thing in this world that I can count on.
During all the trying days in our 20's while we hustled to get ahead, losing the battle to infertility, watching our marriage teeter during the miscarriage, and picking up the pieces and connecting more deeply.
All the struggle and all the triumphs have been with each other.
We made it out the other side.

He is who I will choose, over and over, yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
He is the one I have the most fun with.
He gets me.
He is my person.

In the end, it's him and I.

Bumps in the Road

The last couple of weeks have been bumpy to say the least.
A part of me feels as though we went back a bunch of weeks to the dead of winter. Getting up before dawn and feeling generally lethargic most days seems to be the new normal again.
Granted, I don't believe we've had as much snowfall as in the past, but it is only March.

Sometimes cultivating happiness is really hard.
Like when grief creeps back in and nearly chokes me out with it's power.
Sometimes I need to allow the grief to walk in so I can let it sit with me.
Last Friday was that day. And boy was it a loud one.
How many people can say they have ugly-cried in a hot tub, outside, sitting next to their husband?
I can.
And I have no shame for it.
As ugly as I'm sure it was...it needed to happen.

I do fall back into the trap of "what-if's" and "how come's" and "if only's" a little too often these days.
It's not really fair to myself, though.
But it's really, really hard to walk away from something that you only briefly held onto for a moment in time. It's hard to utter the true words, I will never be a mom, and not pause to stifle a sigh.

It's a weird predicament to be in, indeed.
For 28 years I wanted nothing to do with motherhood.
There were so many women around me that did nothing but dream of becoming a mom one day.
And I would assume they may have been the same people that also planned their wedding since childhood.
I was never one of those, either.

Sure, I figured I would be married. I loved having a monogomous relationship that didn't collapse under pressure. One I could really lean on.

But babies?
No.
That was always met with hesitation.
There was even a point where, as a naive early 20-something, vowed I would have an abortion if ever some monstrosity occurred and I got pregnant too early.
And then I had an abnormal pap smear and feared I may never be able to have kids because I was convinced I had cancer and my life would be over sooner than later.

Can you tell I have a flair for the dramatic?

But getting back to babies; although I never completely said no, I most certainly never said yes.
The closest I got to a real motherhood conversation was when I was dating Mark, way back during my first job out of college. We were getting rather serious in our relationship and I needed to have one of those serious conversations about whether or not we were both on board with big-ticket items.
Such as babies.

But what if one of us changes their mind? I asked, tearing up, because I knew I had a knack for doing that kind of thing.

We finished the conversation on the same page.
If it happened, we would embrace it.

And then age 28 rolled around and lit a fire so bright I couldn't deny it.
Now, at age 34...where am I? How does that fire look?

It's blinding.

I'm at a loss about what to do about it, though.
I have no fight left in me to pursue fertility treatments.
I can't fathom going through another miscarriage after all the time and money and emotions that come with IVF.
We aren't the type of people to adopt.

But yet, I get nervous sometimes.
About regrets.
Regrets that I'm not using the good years of my life to get the thing I thought I wanted most.

Other times I wonder if it's even what I want anymore.
If maybe I just became to hard-wired with fertility treatments and failure and the THOUGHT of becoming pregnant, that anything after that doesn't actually appeal to me anymore.

I don't have an answer.
And I think that's okay.
This is grief spilling onto these pages.
It's a season of my life that I recognize as not the most pleasant, but definitely necessary.

I know everything I have been through has been shaping me for whatever the next day, weeks, and years hold. I know this is just a blinding bump in the road of my life. I know this isn't my whole story.

But, I will continue to share it with you. All of it.

Episode 9 of my YouTube Channel also touches on this topic of what grief felt like last week.


I know this post isn't the uplifting joyful Friday post I am accustomed to, but it's not like I can schedule grief, so you get what you get. :)
I promise to not dwell in this mundane state too long. I know it's not permanent.
This too shall pass, right?

Just another bump in the road.

And to think, my emotions can only get better from here. Now THAT'S something to look forward to.

Finally, on a lighter note, I am hosting a Magnolia Homes Gift Card giveaway on Instagram today.
Be sure to check it out and enter, and thank you, as always, for following my journey. XO

In the Valley

Some days are easy, and some days are hard.

Some days, hell, even weeks go by and I feel like I'm floating on cloud nine. All of my worries seem to be gone, life runs smoothly, and I don't have trouble thinking clearly. I am overly positive and optimistic, my marriage and my home are running smoothly....all is good.

And some days, or multiple days in a row, I just feel overwhelmed.
On those days I wonder if perhaps my crazy meds need to be adjusted because my thoughts and my vision seem to be a bit more jumpy than usual. I keep scrolling through the last couple years of my life...wondering how so much of my plans for the future seemed to derail, and the ending came so abruptly.

But did it?

I find myself falling into old habits...starting to open the can of worms that is my issues with conceiving, seeking out answers, coordinating things. I found myself logging into the egg donor site of my fertility clinic and looking at these beautiful, selfless girls offering their perfect little eggs to grow other people's families. And then I cried because I know just how messed up my own eggs are, and I'm sad knowing that portion of my life is over.

I find myself ordering new vitamins. After my last major blood draw at the fertility clinic, I learned my thyroid antibodies seem to be attacking my thyroid a bit....so of course the internet said BUY SELENIUM...so I did. I'm already on thyroid medication, and I don't really know why I'm bothering...but I did it and can now say I'm officially gobbling down 8 vitamins and medications on the daily. Cool.

I volley between wanting to move forward and follow what little faith I have and keep chugging along with life like normal people do, yet simultaneously sleeping for months on end.
It's weird to be both happy and really sad at the same time.

I'm ecstatic that we don't have to coordinate our entire lives and keep so much of it on hold these days, but I feel like I'm missing this huge chunk of my life that I just don't know how to attain.

Sometimes I bring up these feelings to Mark. He looks at our family building options very simply. And the reality is he simply doesn't want to pursue any more insane options that are remotely similar to IVF. So of course I asked...well what if we conceived naturally? And he responded...well that would be wonderful and we would figure it out.
I don't want to fight with him, because quite frankly I don't even know if I believe in what I would be fighting for either. I don't have the energy to figure everything out anymore...I just want it to happen. That surprise that everyone dreams about. I want to build my family in the same way he wishes it would go...without medical intervention or massive amounts of money.
And of course I agree...so I find myself blubbering out incoherent sentence fragments and just saying I DON'T KNOW BUT I JUST WANT TO BE A MOM.

He jumps up to give me the strongest hug I can imagine for as long as Burn will allow before he starts humping us both.
I am worn out from Orangetheory and don't really know what I want to say or not say and I most certainly don't want to cause an argument so I just take a shower. I assumed the crying would continue but then it doesn't, and I move on with the night.

I don't know if you ever really get over losing something you never really had, especially as a woman. We tend to dwell and relive and seek out the emotions and sit with them, as opposed to constant oppression like men do.

I have been in a valley right now, but I also know the only way to go is up, and tomorrow is a new day.

Thanks for reading. XO

Ramblings

Burn and I have similar morning routines during the week.

We both have a hard time functioning Monday mornings, and tend to feel overly tired.

Lucky for him, he gets to plop back down into his bed as I walk out the front door.

Side story: Monday's are tough for me and make me want to make rash decisions like quitting my job and running away (which, I do believe is par for the course with most working folks) so I have been implementing No Major Decisions Monday into my regime. Although I'm not one to wish time away, Monday's are by far the hardest to get through, especially in the dead of winter, so I try to make it easier by thinking less. No plans, no deep conversations, no appointments, not major-anything's.

Just get through it as painlessly as possible. Tomorrow is a new day.

By the time Wednesday rolls around Burn is literally under toe while I'm drying my hair, hoping I grow a third arm to provides constant pets.

I deeply desire to bring him to work with me. Or be able to be around him way more than I do. He brings me so much joy and unconditional love that I could just burst into a million pieces when I think about him. I would just LOVE to have him in my office on the daily, so I could turn around at any point and see him sleeping peacefully in the corner. He really lives up his bulldog-mannerisms these days.

If you tend to watch my insta-stories, I briefly shared that I found a new deodorant that does not leave any white marks on black clothing, nor does it make white clothes have yellow pit-stains. 

I am a rather sweaty person and it becomes VERY obvious when I'm working out or under pressure. Like, I even sweat on my forearms and shins. 

That's sort of insane, right?

Anyways, so I have been using this Degree deodorant for a while, but to be honest, I cannot stand the spray option. I feel like I'm choking on a cloud of chemicals and it makes me sad. They do have a solid option which would help, because it really does live up to it's promise of no white marks. 

So for that I'm thankful. Those white marks are such a pain to get out of clothes!

But, I really shouldn't be using any sort of standard antiperspirants.

Deodorant is the last piece of the puzzle in terms of eliminating nasty cancer-inducing chemicals that I apply to myself daily. I have been doing my research on activated charcoal and think I may have found a suitable alternative that both combats sweat AND doesn't include disgusting additives. 

I'll report back if it actually worked for my, ahem, issues. 

I am also finding so much joy in being able to move forward with projects and plans, even if they may be small. A bathroom upgrade and a vacation are two items I couldn't even dream about when we were in the droves of IVF because I simply didn't have any more energy (or money) to pursue them. But here we are; with new things and experiences to look forward to. 

In between, I am continuing to boldly pray that God grants me my desire to become a mom.

That was placed in my heart for a reason and I cannot deny it just because we closed the door with science. There has to be a different route, a different alternative, that will work with our lives. 

I'll be reporting back next week with bathroom reno updates! You can follow along on my Instagram as I'll try to post some live stories. The goal this weekend is to move all the items out of the bathroom, clean and sand the wall tiles, paint the wall tiles, and if I'm feeling extra ambitious, paint the walls, and maaayyyybeee the grout or vanity mirror?  We shall see!

Thanks for reading! XO

Expectant

I have seen others pick a word to set the tone for the upcoming year. Almost by chance, my ears perked up the most to this one.

Expectant.

adjective

1. 1.

   having or showing an excited feeling that something is about to happen, especially something pleasant and interesting.
2. 
   

I had seen it a few times across my social media feeds. Joanna Gaines ringing in the New Year using the word, only to announce her FIFTH pregnancy shortly thereafter...friends awaiting a new addition, with captions of expectant....it just seems very fitting at the moment.

I guess the bigger picture with the word expectant in my life is that this overwhelming desire has been granted to me for a reason. Even though it may seem that I just up and decided one morning that my every thought would be consumed by motherhood, I know the timing and the journey were given to me specifically.

And I suppose the hardest hurdle has been comparison. I have watched countless others attain what I desire, and make it seem so easy. Or, at the very least, less of a struggle.
But, comparison has no place in my life. 

In the Midwest, we are fully enveloped in the dead of winter. 

I am not one that finds joy in the outdoor winter activities, so I focus inward.

Life seems slower and more intentional.

It's a good time to change my mindset from one of it's not fair to let's wait and see.

After our third failed IVF transfer, I finally realized fertility treatments are not going to bring us the baby we deeply desired. It was too hard on our marriage and too hard on my mind and body.

Depleting all our resources is not the proper way to bring life into this world.

My spirit was dead. 

Our finances were tapped. 

My body was an experiment. 

Our marriage was unsteady.

And I quickly became depressed, not knowing how to make my dreams a reality anymore.

I felt like a failure. Like I was throwing in the towel on my life's work.

With nowhere else to turn, I'm handing it over to God. This journey has become too much for me and I'm praying for help.

Instead of feeling like this dream is impossible, and that it's, well...just a dream, I want to believe there is a guardian angel, carefully curating my wishes for me as I navigate this next chapter. 

I want to fully embrace the idea of joy in the wait, as the news unfolds.

I don't know how it will, but I am leaning on faith and conviction that it will...IT MUST....when the timing is right for my life.

A dear friend on social media wrote me a quick comment that made me laugh: 

God didn't bring me this far to drop me on my ass. 

Isn't that the best?!

It's so true. Why would I be called to start this winding journey to motherhood to end up empty handed? Wouldn't that be considered a waste if it just stopped abruptly? 

Although I don't comprehend what is in store for me at all....the possibilities are fruitful and overflowing.

How amazing is it to feel so full of life, realizing you are expectant with such good news?!

The anticipation is very freeing. Knowing that God won't let me fall on my ass after all this heart-ache. These dismal times were lessons, as they opened my mind and my arms to something greater in the future. 

I don't know what that is and I don't have to know right now.

My purpose is to keep bringing joy each day to myself, and to those around me.

To stop waiting for the miracle. Stop putting my life on hold in the meantime. 

It's coming. If it's still desired in my heart then God knows it and will make it happen. 

I will live fully and purposefully until the expectant information is fully revealed.

I can't wait to see what happens with the lessons we have learned in the last five years. 

It has got to be setting the scene for some pretty spectacular stuff!

Thank you for reading! XO

Where Does God Fit in Your Life?

I struggle, sometimes, to make sense of the hand we have been dealt on our path to parenthood.

After trying and failing for most of our marriage, I always wonder if this is it.
If what we were supposed to learn is simply to enjoy each other.

Some days I wonder if I should still be fighting for a child.
I see others moving forward, pressing on, and I just wonder if I'm doing the right thing.
In my heart I don't have any fight left.
At least, not in the form of invasive procedures and daily injections.

And then some days I forget how exhausting the IVF battle is and I start thinking maybe we didn't test for EVERYTHING.
Just before the New Year, I finally went in for the long list of blood-work the doctor suggested I have completed after our second miscarriage.

I put it off for two months, and quite frankly, didn't really anticipate doing it in the first place.
But I bit the bullet and headed back into that waiting room.
And when I was finally called back, I was so irritated and frustrated I ended up passing out after the phlebotomist drew the 15th vial of blood.

I hated being there.
I felt like an imposter.
It didn't help that I went at the same time all the successful women were getting their ultrasounds, newly pregnant, relieved all their hard work finally paid off.

I remember those joyful times.
Each week, watching our baby grow.
Gosh, those ultrasounds were the absolute best images I have ever seen.

Although I have made up my mind to stop IVF....my heart isn't out of the game yet.

I have these weird premonitions, that keep growing more and more vivid as the days go on.

Although we lost a boy, I was never convinced we would raise a boy.
It's almost as if I knew the pregnancy wouldn't take, but didn't understand at the time.

I keep having these visions of a girl.
I see her.
I see snippets of time, as if I'm watching myself, holding her, in a little checkered dress, barefoot in the summer time out in our yard.
I see how she looks, with soft blond curls at the nape of her neck.
She has chubby little cheeks and blue eyes.
I see her so well I can even give her a name.

It all just....makes sense.
These visions.

And yet, at the same time, it completely doesn't.
Because I have no idea to attain them.

I have no idea how to make them a reality if we are through with IVF.
How do I make a baby if we are done trying?

And my therapist boldly questioned my confusions with....Where does God fit in your life?

My response was equally ridiculous.
I started crying.
I have never imagined something I can't see solving a problem in my life for me.

As a Type A person...I create my own destiny, right?
So how do I handle this?

If I have always been the solution and resource for a lot of my and other's lives....does God fill in the pieces of the puzzle that I can't fathom?

Sometimes I feel my faith growing, or, I guess it's faith. I don't actually know what to call it....and I will be honest that I am terrified about it.
Because it's not tangible.
I like things that I can see and touch and understand by looking at it.

But I can't see this.
It's just a feeling.

I don't know how to lean into God for these visions.
I don't want to come off as crazy but I can't stop them from happening.

I am terrified to let into too much hope for fear of falling on my face again.
I want to weave that little girl into my life just like every other piece of the beautiful puzzle.
I worry sometimes that I am just manifesting these visions out of the chaos over our loss.
That I should just snap back to reality and stop day-dreaming.

It all seems so real sometimes, though.
So I'll keep trying to lean in and hope for a bit of guidance on this strange path.
Thanks for reading. XO

My Purpose This Season

Mark spent four solid days sick in bed with the flu, following my company Holiday party.

In between the events we had planned, I did my best to pick up his end of the duties and keep him comforted.

I know most women are like....AWWW GEEZ ANOTHER MAN-COLD?

But Mark seriously never gets sick. And if he ever does, he never bothers me while he's recovering. He just keeps chugging along like it's not happening. So I knew he was really bad this time.

My to-do list was being checked off, but Friday held a lot of prep for the weekend. Although we didn't host our family Christmas party this year, I still had guests arriving and food to make and gifts to wrap.

For exactly three solid hours Friday evening, I set up a gift-wrapping station in my sitting room, turned on some Christmas tunes, and set out to wrap every last gift, scrub down the bathroom and add the final touches to our guest room to give my cousin's a welcome and cozy retreat.

Although I may have joked about worrying less about how the presents are wrapped, I truly love how they look, with fresh bows and crisp corners, if only I could display them somewhere that I could see them.

This year was different.

Without our beloved Crash scampering around the house, getting into everything, I took a chance and filled the baskets around our Christmas tree with presents. Gift after glorious gift, piled high for display. And Burn could have cared less.

Success!

Even though I was tired, I was ecstatic to see this view. 

A view filled with magic and joy at the anticipation of family opening each gift in the coming weeks.

Yes, I may have over-done it in the gift-giving department this year.
Perhaps it was a bit of retail therapy as I'm not buying gifts for my own baby, but seeing those presents under the tree, and knowing how much thought I put into each of them, was everything I had hoped to see for years.

Mark tossed and turned all night Friday and I woke earlier than expected from broken sleep.

I wanted to prepare an easy pecan-cinnamon role casserole for Sunday morning, so got to work.
After the ingredients were piled high, I finished moving fresh towels to the guest room, and filled a cup of coffee for myself. Seriously, how festive is this MUG?!

Shortly after, my cousin and her beautiful family arrived.
Burn was introduced to his first baby, and although clearly over-excited, was easily managed.

We all got dressed and headed off to our family Christmas party where we ate and drank and laughed the night away. I swear, my cousin and I could be sisters, don'cha think?

The night, however, was bittersweet.

I was thrilled to see my parents doing well.

My dad has been on the up and up, and it's a nice change of pace from the hectic, worrisome months prior.

And my mom.
Gosh.
She met our six month old niece for the first time, and as I watched her holding that tiny baby, tears welled up in my eyes, knowing I am unable to provide her with grandchildren.

It stung a bit, remembering all the sacrifice and hope and loss we went through, to try and conceive ourselves, and in the end, we are left living vicariously through other family's as they grow their own.

I didn't know I could love another person's child with every ounce of my being, while at the same time equally sad for myself.

Luckily, the sad emotions were fleeting, likely enhanced by the wine.

Our weekend wrapped up Sunday morning, and I was left to tend to Mark and carry on with my own life.

I was driving home from Orangetheory Sunday afternoon and while completely exhausted, soaked to the bone with sweat after an intense workout...I couldn't help but feel this wave of gratitude wash over me.

I am so lucky to have a husband that needs me to take care of him sometimes.
I am so lucky to have a warm house and an abundance of food and bedding to dole out to guests as needed.
I am so lucky to have the income to buy meaningful gifts for our family. Watching the kid's eyes light up when they open our gifts is the best gift I will ever receive in return.

I know this next week will be trying for my spirit as we watched our baby slip through our fingers last year, but I know in my heart I am exactly where I need to be, and exactly what I need to be for others.

My purpose this season is to bring joy and light and serve loved ones when I can, when they need me the most.

This is my last blog post for 2017, although you will likely find me on Instagram, if you'd like to follow the fun!

I hope you have a wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year! XO

Say Yes and You'll Figure it out Later - From Infertility to Adoption, Please Meet Mary Beth

Saying NO MORE to fertility treatments and closing the door to children sparked this overwhelming need to push different alternatives to the spotlight. I have a voice and I am stubborn as Hell, so why not use those gifts to bring awareness? 

I am a firm believer that the term FAMILY comes in all different shapes and sizes, and I will continue to speak out about those topics that I am passionate about.

That being said, I wanted to introduce you to a dear friend of mine, Mary Beth. I met this fabulous woman and her family about a year ago as they eagerly awaited the arrival of Jude, their fourth adopted baby. She graciously said yes to sharing her story on this blog, and I urge you to read her interview from top to bottom.

So grab some coffee (or a cocktail) and settle in. You're gonna want to read this until the very end.

Without further ado.....Please meet Mary Beth!

Q: I only gather the cream of the crop to add to my tribe of friends. Please share what makes you and your hubby so awesome?!

A: It is an absolute honor to be featured on Forever Orchard. I am a faithful reader, fellow infertile, and have found a lot of comfort in this tribe of women who just understand. Josh and I have been married almost 8 years and have five sweet babies.

Our family is built through adoption.

Adoption has always been a part of our ‘Plan A’. Although, we just assumed it would be a mix of genetics and adoptions. My body has always refused to hold my babies inside (thank you massive fibroid tumors) and along the way, we ran into a young girl who needed a family for her baby and we said YES instantly. The last 6 years has been a series of giant yeses that have built our family and changed my husband and I forever.

Q: Where did you meet? Was it love at first sight? Spill your love story...

A: We met on eHarmony, even though we have lied for YEARS, telling people we met on a blind date. We were matched on March 9, 2009 and started talking via emails and phone calls until we officially went on our first date on March 20th.

I LOVED him instantly.

I had absolutely no chill about that (even though I thought I was trying) so much so that his sister named me bee’s knees because she said I thought he was the bee’s knees. Truth - I still do. He is one of my favorite humans ever and I can’t get enough of him.

On our very first date, I told him that birthing babies was likely not in my future and I asked him grilled him about his views on adoption. He was all in and I adored him for that. I can be an intense person (clearly, if I was casually mentioning my infertility on our first date), but he seemed to be able to roll with it and loved me for it.

We had the most intensely passionate dating relationship. It was an absolute whirlwind and 7 months later he dropped to his knee and asked me to marry him. In true Mary Beth form, I grabbed the ring out of his hand and shoved it on my finger never even acknowledging his question. I wanted to be his wife, end of story. We basically ran to the altar and got married one day before our 1 year dating anniversary on March 19, 2010.  

Q: Did you always want to be a mom? Or did something spark this epiphany?

A: I was the little girl who would snap her bike helmet around her waist and pull her shirt down over it to see what I would look like pregnant. I wanted babies. ALL THE BABIES.

So let the baby making begin! Once we were married I threw all my energy into figuring out how to make my body work. I ordered all the books, interviewed a dozen doctors, and tracked my temperature/ovulation like a pro. At that point, I had about a dozen major surgeries already to remove massive fibroid tumors.

I wanted to be a mom so badly that I literally fantasized about finding a baby on the side of the road.

Every single day that my arms were empty felt like another nail in the coffin of my infertility.  After our first miscarriage, I started seeing an infertility specialist I trusted and just knew would be the answer to our problems.  

Q: Trying to become a mom isn't always easy. Please share some of the hurdles you overcame prior to considering adoption.

A: As mentioned before, I had several surgeries leading up to trying to start a family that led us to believe this would be difficult. Each of my children’s births and adoptions were also marked with more battling to keep my reproductive organs intact while also building my family through adoption.

I would endure a round of IVF and adopt a baby, rinse and repeat...I think I always knew in my heart pregnancy wasn’t going to happen for me, but I had to do everything in my power to say “we tried” and “I can live with myself knowing I did my best.”

But it was absolute bullshit. I hated every minute of IVF and the emotional rollercoaster that it was. I was an angry, sweaty, fatter-by-the-minute, hot mess. I found myself getting more and more frustrated with my life and my people, and I knew it was time to stop.

But, because I am not a quitter, I plowed ahead until my doctor scheduled an appointment with me and had me meet him in his office...but this time was different.  It wasn’t in one of the normal exam or ultrasound rooms. I walked back to his office like it was a death march.

It was.

With tears in his eyes, he told us that we had reached our limit and that he would be considered a bad doctor to keep taking our money with absolutely no hope that any of our perfect little embryos would stick. He was so kind. 

If I’m being perfectly honest, I was relieved. No more needles. No more 6 am appointments. Stick a fork in me, I am DONE. I cried for a straight 24 hours, but it was a mixed bag of grief and relief. 

It was the permission I needed to be done stabbing myself for something I knew in my heart wasn’t meant to be, while at the same time the invitation to freely love my life again and the beautiful babies I already had in my arms. 

I was given permission to unleash a whole new version of ME that I had never really had to give because I was always living in the vortex of trying to conceive.

Within a few months, the bleeding was so severe that I scheduled a hysterectomy and forever closed the door to giving birth. I felt the same sense of grief and relief when I woke up from my 5 hour surgery. The insanity was officially over.

Q: Did you always know you would end up adopting? Please tell us the highs and lows in choosing this path.

A: I have two adopted brothers so I have literally always known this would be a part of my future. I felt urgently that I had to be a part of the solution to children who needed a home and a loving mom. I am so thankful now that God gave me that passion because I am well aware that without it I wouldn’t have ever been a mother.

The road to adoption is so similar to infertility treatments.

So much is out of your control.

You have no idea what will happen. But you also know in your gut that if you can just muster up the courage to see it through, it will be the biggest blessing in your whole life.

I would be lying if I didn’t admit that it hurts so deeply that I didn’t get to know my children inside of me or feel them moving for the first time. There will always be a sense of loss for me around that even though I wouldn’t trade my kids for anything. I missed a lot of firsts with them.  They all came to us as newborns, but there are a lot of firsts adoptive parents just don’t get to experience.

One of the greatest joys to me, though, is that these little ones are exactly who God made for me. I know without a doubt that this was meant to be and that I was always and forever meant to be these children's mother.

That is so incredible that I get chills up and down my spine when I think about it.

Love makes a family and I believe that down to my toes.

Q: Would you please share your biggest joys about each of your children?

A: Hannah is almost 6 and is an absolute delight. She has a silly sense of humor and is smart as a whip. She loves to draw, bake, and play with her siblings. She is gentle, sweet and so caring. She loves ballet and singing along to Hamilton (which she begs me to take her to see every single day).

Eden is 3.5 and is SO. STRONG. WILLED. She is spicy and sassy and SO beautiful, it’s dangerous. She loves playing with dolls and is our little foodie who regularly eats what we are having, instead of the kid food that you would assume she’d want. She loves animals more than humans and can often be found outside in the yard with her puppy, Abbey. She is currently in ballet, but will for sure move on to hip hop as she can shake it like nobody's business.

She is the kind of kid who looks me up and down, head to toe, and says, “I can take you.”

And she can.

Gabriel is our adopted son who passed away at 34 weeks in utero. He was perfect and I cannot believe I don’t have him here with me. I got to hold him and name him and talk to him for about an hour after he was born and he has been with me every single second since then.

He is my gentle feather and I know without a doubt he watches over us and knows how much we loved him and wanted him.

I never imagined after all the loss we suffered, that we would ever bury a child. His life has profoundly changed me and he will always be my boy I cannot wait to meet again.

Jude is 9 months old and he is a total rainbow after the storm. He is easy going, silly and loves to laugh. He loves food and his sisters and crawls around like he owns the place (HE DOES). He is bright eyed, charismatic and he has brought us such immeasurable joy we cannot imagine life without him.

AND  BABY GIRL is coming in January!  

Q: You and Josh are seasoned veterans at this point, eagerly awaiting your 5th earth-side arrival early 2018. Please tell us how this last one came about and did anything throw you for a loop?

A: OH mylanta. The party don’t stop at our house!

A few months ago, Josh and I were having a hypothetical conversation about what we would do if any of our kids’ biological mothers had a baby and asked us to consider adopting a sibling. Anyone who would ask us about our family having more kids would get the standard answer,

“We are done pursuing adoption, but if God dropped a situation in our laps, we would never say no.”

I think we were both secretly hoping that the train didn’t stop at the three living kids we had to hold and love, but we knew we were also a pair of lucky jerks who were living out a dream come true.

We ended the hypothetical conversation by saying, “HELL YEAH we would never say no to that!”

Right along par with our love for the unexpected plot twist, that very situation presented itself the next day.

Jude’s birth mom was expecting and wanted to know if we would consider adopting his biological sister. Duh. Without an extra penny to our names and no real idea of just how we would make this happen, we said yes and have never looked back.

To quote Tina Fey, just “say yes and you’ll figure it out later” which is exactly what we are doing.

Q: Adoption, like fertility treatments, is both mentally and financially draining. How have you coped and how has the community gotten involved?

A: Mentally, we are still a mess. HA!

We are still wrapping our brains around having babies that are 10 months apart. It’s like twins, but one is almost walking….so we are pretty much just getting really comfortable with the idea that we may never sit down for the next 5 years. But we are honestly and truly so profoundly honored that we get to parent another little one, and the joy that I know she will bring our family moves me to tears.

I don’t know that I will ever be able to just pop into Costco again, but who cares?!

I get to have another baby!

Financially, it has been a hit for sure. Adoption is extremely expensive, much like infertility treatments, and there aren’t punch cards for being frequent flyers. Our friends and family have rallied around us in ways I never even imagined, donating to our tax deductible foundation and finding ways to take what they have and turning it into so much more for our family.

It has blown our minds that people are so behind us that they will sacrifice to help bring this little girl home.

Q: As a former infertility warrior, backed by a tribe of like-minded women, how can we help your cause?

A: Bottom line for me, your thoughts and prayers mean more to me than anything. This is one of the biggest tests for me emotionally and physically and I just want to do it with grace. I don’t for one second take it for granted that after all my pain and struggles, I still get the title of MOM and I want to honor that by being the best I can be.

When we were waiting for our Jude after losing Gabriel, I bought a candle at the dollar store to light for Saint Jude. He is the Patron Saint of Lost Causes. We had picked out the name forever ago, but something about the way that St. Jude looked on that candle brought me hope and sparked some real joy in me for the first time in a long time. I would light that candle anytime I was feeling discouraged or sad as I waited for my living son. When Jude was born, I felt the pieces of my heart start to mend and I started to feel wholeness again after enduring so much loss.

I know many of you are in the same boat. Our stories don’t share the same details, but they do share the same sentiment. We have worked our asses off for something we never imagined could or should be this hard.

After sharing this with a friend, Etsy shop owner of Leland’s Corner, she created a bracelet in honor of all of our lost causes.

This bracelet is a reminder not to give up on yourself or your dreams.

They matter and sometimes we just need a reminder to keep our eye on the prize as we endure through the pain.

You can buy the St. Jude (oil diffusing) Bracelet and 100% of the sale will go directly to our adoption fund.

Buy a bracelet for yourself or a friend who needs that reminder and know that you are helping baby girl come home as well.

I'm not crying...YOU'RE CRYING.

You guys. Isn't she amazing!?

My bracelet is in the mail and I cannot wait to wear it proudly and witness this new addition to Mary Beth's home in the coming months!!

Thank you, my lovely readers, for continuing to support this blog and share my voice.

And THANK YOU, Mary Beth, for posting such a raw, emotional, and BEAUTIFUL story.

You are loved beyond belief. XO