My Sweetest Peanut,
It has been over 10 weeks since I heard the worst phrase of my life that we wouldn't get to meet. Life (much to my surprise) has been moving along, but at times ever so slowly. For me there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about you. By this time we would have been able to find out if you were a boy or girl. To be honest I still think we wouldn't have wanted to know. I would have been over joyed at the thought of a little boy or girl so why not wait a little longer to find out when you would make your debut in August. Sadly, we won't get to find out.
Then there are over a million questions that I always tend to think about. Would you have mommies brown hair or daddies pretty green eyes? Would you be jumping up and down on my bladder or just content to be mellow and to go where the uterus takes you? Would you deny me certain foods or not be able to get enough of others? How far would my belly be sticking out? There are so many questions that will never get answered.
I often imagine how it would still be if your racing heart was beating right under mine. By this time your OCD mommy would have your nursery decorated and almost organized. I know for a fact that some of your aunts would have bought things for you and I know one might have already had your baby shower planned. There would be a mountain of clothes waiting for you from friends or family. By the time you were to arrive your crazy cousins would be used to all the baby noise so one more wouldn't hurt. If you were a boy your Uncle Joey could have had his starting 5, and if you were a girl, well, let's just say your cousins wouldn't let you date, ever. And your crazy grandma would be talking more to you than she would to me (sorry mom, you know I'm right).
Some days I find it almost impossible to get out of bed. Others have moved on, but my sweet peanut I cannot. I will forever wonder how different things would have been if you were still growing under my heart. Oh, how I wish God hadn't taken you from me so soon. I do find rest that you're being rocked to sleep by an angel in heaven. One of these days my little peanut we will get to meet face to face and I count the days until we do. Until then, know that you are always on my mind and in my heart.
All My Love,
Mommy
Chasing Hope Choosing Joy
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Sunday, March 29, 2015
The First Week of April
Ah, the first week in April, it holds so many new beginnings for many. As the flowers begin to bloom and the snow melts away, the promise of spring is in the air. For us the first week in April is very special in several different ways.
On April 4, 2009, life as I knew it was about to change forever. That's the day that I met my loving husband Chase. It was a Saturday, and my cousin and her husband had set me up on a blind date. At the time I was 19 and going on a date with an older more mature man. I was so nervous. The entire week I searched for a "mature "outfit, one that didn't give everything away. After all my track record for dating losers and or jerks was very high. So, this time should be different and boy was it. The date went smoothly or so I thought. After talking to Chase later he said that he thought we would never talk again because he was told I was very talkative and I really didn't say much on the actual date. I wanted to make a good impression and if he saw the true me he might run for the hills. Upon coming home that night I knew I had to find out more about this kind, quiet, and super hot man. And the rest my friends is history.
Fast forward to April 3, 2012, and Chase and I are waiting in the hospital for our first nephew to arrive. After waiting around for him to show up (granted we sat in the waiting room for 2 days, going home at night, making sure he wasn't going to come until morning) he was born at around 8:00 pm. Once mommy and baby were settled, we were cleared to go see them. I fell in love instantly, and we've been best friends ever since.
That was also the day that I knew we should start trying to start our family. I have always wanted to be a mom even before I started playing teacher. Yes, I played teacher. So much so that I would bring home old text books from school and teach my baby dolls how to read. Seeing my sweet, tiny nephew was the last straw, I knew it was time. Iwanted want what I saw that day, a happy family.
This month that sweet little nephew turns 3, where has the time gone? There are always mixed emotions for me this time of year. As each year ticks by I can't help but think, will this be our year? Will we finally get to be parents? Oh, how I wish I knew. At times I wish God would send a big booming voice, an email, text message, or even a letter and tell us when things will happen in our lives. If this were true then where would our faith come into play? With that being said, I guess I will go back to what I have done for the past 3 years now: wait impatiently, pray like crazy, and hope our sweet baby arrives someday. Until next time friends, always Chasing Hope.
On April 4, 2009, life as I knew it was about to change forever. That's the day that I met my loving husband Chase. It was a Saturday, and my cousin and her husband had set me up on a blind date. At the time I was 19 and going on a date with an older more mature man. I was so nervous. The entire week I searched for a "mature "outfit, one that didn't give everything away. After all my track record for dating losers and or jerks was very high. So, this time should be different and boy was it. The date went smoothly or so I thought. After talking to Chase later he said that he thought we would never talk again because he was told I was very talkative and I really didn't say much on the actual date. I wanted to make a good impression and if he saw the true me he might run for the hills. Upon coming home that night I knew I had to find out more about this kind, quiet, and super hot man. And the rest my friends is history.
Fast forward to April 3, 2012, and Chase and I are waiting in the hospital for our first nephew to arrive. After waiting around for him to show up (granted we sat in the waiting room for 2 days, going home at night, making sure he wasn't going to come until morning) he was born at around 8:00 pm. Once mommy and baby were settled, we were cleared to go see them. I fell in love instantly, and we've been best friends ever since.
That was also the day that I knew we should start trying to start our family. I have always wanted to be a mom even before I started playing teacher. Yes, I played teacher. So much so that I would bring home old text books from school and teach my baby dolls how to read. Seeing my sweet, tiny nephew was the last straw, I knew it was time. I
This month that sweet little nephew turns 3, where has the time gone? There are always mixed emotions for me this time of year. As each year ticks by I can't help but think, will this be our year? Will we finally get to be parents? Oh, how I wish I knew. At times I wish God would send a big booming voice, an email, text message, or even a letter and tell us when things will happen in our lives. If this were true then where would our faith come into play? With that being said, I guess I will go back to what I have done for the past 3 years now: wait impatiently, pray like crazy, and hope our sweet baby arrives someday. Until next time friends, always Chasing Hope.
Saturday, February 21, 2015
My Respected RE
The Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE for short) specializes in exactly what it says reproduction. In terms you and I can understand they help and try to figure out why you aren't getting pregnant. For most people the name alone is intimidating, but for those who are actually struggling to get pregnant it can be even scarier.
On November 15, 2014, I went to see my RE for the first time. My ob. was releasing me to a specialist, basically saying we don't know what's wrong with you but they might. Their office called over to the RE's office and gave them my name and information. So, here Chase and I go over to St. Louis to Washington University Hospital. By this time I had talked to the receptionist to make the initial appointment, I learned that my doctors name was Dr. Kenan Omurtag. My first thought was I hope that I can understand what he is saying to me, after all with a last name like Omurtag, he had to be a foreign doctor. Now, don't think I'm against foreign doctors, I'm not, I just want to be able to understand what is going on with me.
We arrive at our appointment a little late, and I'm a nervous wreck because I HATE being late to things plus it didn't help that the GPS didn't take us to the right place the first time. We find the floor and ride the elevator up and walk in. We waited for what seemed like hours to be called back. Then finally Kendra Hyde gets called back (insert eye roll, stand, smile and follow the nurse). She takes me to this little room and gets my weight (ugh), height, and finally blood pressure. Mind you, in this same room is where they draw blood; I'm terrified of needles (not anymore they broke me of my fear). She takes my blood pressure and tells me it's high. Honestly, when they take it and tell me what it is, I always nod like I have a clue what a "good" blood pressure is. She asks if everything is ok, and I look over at the needles and muster that I am nervous about the appointment. She quickly tells me to relax and we talk about something mindless and this time its back to "normal" whatever that is.
Now, it's time to meet the doc. My palms are sweating and I can't breathe when in walks this white Doogie Howser. I am somewhat shocked and wasn't expecting someone so young let alone an American with such a last name. We soon begin talking and he starts mapping out our plan his action. When we finally close he looks at me and says we will make this happen for you.
Since that first nerve wracking day, I have come to trust not only Dr. O (for short) but his staff as well. Every time I call with a question they always get right back to me. At each visit I felt like a queen. Dr. O takes time and answers any questions we had. I have never felt like I'm just another patient or number that he has to see that day. When going to one of our countless procedures one of the female doctors in practice with him did the IUIs. To be honest I am very grateful for that, not only are the procedures incredibly awkward but it's a little embarrassing. The last IUI that we had, it seems like it was yesterday, we met briefly with Dr. O and I remember listening but not mentally being there. It was like I was already willing my body to catch the egg. Right before we left he looked me right in the eye and grabbed my hand in a firm hand shake and said, "Kenda, we will make this happen." At that moment I wanted to cry and hug him at the same time, even if it would have been awkward.
When we found out we were expecting our first I called to schedule an appointment for labs and an ultrasound. After successful labs and seeing our peanut for the first time we went in for a short follow up talk. He said that peanut and I looked healthy and released us back to my ob. However, right before we left, I will never for get this, he told me to call if I needed anything that we would ALWAYS be his patients even if he didn't initially aid in getting me pregnant (which I believe isn't true without his knowledge and medication choices I don't think I would have conceived at all). He said to keep him posted and definitely send him a picture of peanut when he came. Then when we had our miscarriage I called to let Dr. O know and ask what we should do now. The FIRST thing the nurse said was we are so sorry the doctor wants to see you soon to discuss what should happen next.
I've read and heard from so many women who have had horrible experiences with their RE's. I just wanted in to go on record here that I have the best RE around. Infertility is a nasty road, but with the right people in your corner it makes all the difference in the world. Until next time, always Chasing Hope.
On November 15, 2014, I went to see my RE for the first time. My ob. was releasing me to a specialist, basically saying we don't know what's wrong with you but they might. Their office called over to the RE's office and gave them my name and information. So, here Chase and I go over to St. Louis to Washington University Hospital. By this time I had talked to the receptionist to make the initial appointment, I learned that my doctors name was Dr. Kenan Omurtag. My first thought was I hope that I can understand what he is saying to me, after all with a last name like Omurtag, he had to be a foreign doctor. Now, don't think I'm against foreign doctors, I'm not, I just want to be able to understand what is going on with me.
We arrive at our appointment a little late, and I'm a nervous wreck because I HATE being late to things plus it didn't help that the GPS didn't take us to the right place the first time. We find the floor and ride the elevator up and walk in. We waited for what seemed like hours to be called back. Then finally Kendra Hyde gets called back (insert eye roll, stand, smile and follow the nurse). She takes me to this little room and gets my weight (ugh), height, and finally blood pressure. Mind you, in this same room is where they draw blood; I'm terrified of needles (not anymore they broke me of my fear). She takes my blood pressure and tells me it's high. Honestly, when they take it and tell me what it is, I always nod like I have a clue what a "good" blood pressure is. She asks if everything is ok, and I look over at the needles and muster that I am nervous about the appointment. She quickly tells me to relax and we talk about something mindless and this time its back to "normal" whatever that is.
Now, it's time to meet the doc. My palms are sweating and I can't breathe when in walks this white Doogie Howser. I am somewhat shocked and wasn't expecting someone so young let alone an American with such a last name. We soon begin talking and he starts mapping out our plan his action. When we finally close he looks at me and says we will make this happen for you.
Since that first nerve wracking day, I have come to trust not only Dr. O (for short) but his staff as well. Every time I call with a question they always get right back to me. At each visit I felt like a queen. Dr. O takes time and answers any questions we had. I have never felt like I'm just another patient or number that he has to see that day. When going to one of our countless procedures one of the female doctors in practice with him did the IUIs. To be honest I am very grateful for that, not only are the procedures incredibly awkward but it's a little embarrassing. The last IUI that we had, it seems like it was yesterday, we met briefly with Dr. O and I remember listening but not mentally being there. It was like I was already willing my body to catch the egg. Right before we left he looked me right in the eye and grabbed my hand in a firm hand shake and said, "Kenda, we will make this happen." At that moment I wanted to cry and hug him at the same time, even if it would have been awkward.
When we found out we were expecting our first I called to schedule an appointment for labs and an ultrasound. After successful labs and seeing our peanut for the first time we went in for a short follow up talk. He said that peanut and I looked healthy and released us back to my ob. However, right before we left, I will never for get this, he told me to call if I needed anything that we would ALWAYS be his patients even if he didn't initially aid in getting me pregnant (which I believe isn't true without his knowledge and medication choices I don't think I would have conceived at all). He said to keep him posted and definitely send him a picture of peanut when he came. Then when we had our miscarriage I called to let Dr. O know and ask what we should do now. The FIRST thing the nurse said was we are so sorry the doctor wants to see you soon to discuss what should happen next.
I've read and heard from so many women who have had horrible experiences with their RE's. I just wanted in to go on record here that I have the best RE around. Infertility is a nasty road, but with the right people in your corner it makes all the difference in the world. Until next time, always Chasing Hope.
Saturday, February 14, 2015
What is Love?
With the Valentine's Day holiday creeping up on us, I thought I would lighten this blog up a bit. After all, infertility isn't that much fun to talk about all the time. So, with the title in mind, what is love? The nerdy teacher in me will define it for you: love (n) a profound tender affection for another person. My husband and I have been married almost 5 years, and I have never known a love could be so deep. As I think back to when we first met, our engagement, and even our wedding day, I knew there wasn't any way humanly possible that I could love this man any more than I do now. As usual, I was wrong.
We have been through an innumerable amount of tests in our marriage already. This lastbump mountain in the road really made us take a look at our relationship. Could this major obstacle really kill our marriage? I have read and heard about countless couples who struggle with starting a family and actually end up getting a divorce. This breaks my heart, but as we took an even deeper look at our relationship we realized it will never be the case for us. In fact, I feel our relationship getting stronger by the day. That doesn't mean that it is perfect, but we were given some great advise before we were married that I want to share it with you.
When we were going through marriage counseling, our wise pastor gave the perfect analogy of marriage and divorce. He said, divorce is like the hatch on a submarine, if you leave the hatch open the sub will sink. Meaning if you go into the relationship thinking that there is a way out, then you have already set yourself up for failure. However, if you just close the hatch (divorce isn't an option) then it doesn't matter what kind of murky or troubled waters you pass through, you will make it out alright. Whose not to say that there won't be bumps and bruises along the way, but at least you still have each other. It never has been an option for us, nor will it ever be.
Now, to the real meat of this post. What I think love is, since we know the definition, I can tell you what love looks like to me. It's sitting at home on a Friday night watching a movie next to a warm fire in our pajamas. It's going camping and having it rain ALL weekend, but still having a great time anyway. It's having your car break down on your way to Florida, and being stuck in a small garage waiting for it to get fixed while keeping each other calm the whole time. It's watching the man you love shower love and affection on your nephews and know that he WILL make a great daddy one day. (You thought something else didn't you, shame on you this is a family friendly blog) It's planning our retirement and where we will go once we are retired. It's going out to show off the man you married and wanting to say, sorry ladies he's ALL mine. It's knowing what the other person is thinking right before they say it (which can be incredibly scary at times). It's helping each other with the house chores because, face it, there is nothing sexier than coming home after a long day to a load of laundry that's been done or better yet the dishwasher is completely empty. It's not having to say anything at all, yet the other person knows exactly how much you love them. It's experiencing some of the hardest times of your life, yet knowing that with your true love by your side nothing (not even infertility) could tear you apart. I could ramble on for hours, but I won't because you're probably already rolling your eyes. ;)
I know I still have a lot to learn about marriage and love, however, I have to say I think we have a pretty good start, no matter what is thrown our way. Our profound, tender affection will last until were old, and he's gray because, let's face it, I will dye my hair until the day I die. Happy Love Day everyone and until next time, always Chasing Hope.
We have been through an innumerable amount of tests in our marriage already. This last
When we were going through marriage counseling, our wise pastor gave the perfect analogy of marriage and divorce. He said, divorce is like the hatch on a submarine, if you leave the hatch open the sub will sink. Meaning if you go into the relationship thinking that there is a way out, then you have already set yourself up for failure. However, if you just close the hatch (divorce isn't an option) then it doesn't matter what kind of murky or troubled waters you pass through, you will make it out alright. Whose not to say that there won't be bumps and bruises along the way, but at least you still have each other. It never has been an option for us, nor will it ever be.
Now, to the real meat of this post. What I think love is, since we know the definition, I can tell you what love looks like to me. It's sitting at home on a Friday night watching a movie next to a warm fire in our pajamas. It's going camping and having it rain ALL weekend, but still having a great time anyway. It's having your car break down on your way to Florida, and being stuck in a small garage waiting for it to get fixed while keeping each other calm the whole time. It's watching the man you love shower love and affection on your nephews and know that he WILL make a great daddy one day. (You thought something else didn't you, shame on you this is a family friendly blog) It's planning our retirement and where we will go once we are retired. It's going out to show off the man you married and wanting to say, sorry ladies he's ALL mine. It's knowing what the other person is thinking right before they say it (which can be incredibly scary at times). It's helping each other with the house chores because, face it, there is nothing sexier than coming home after a long day to a load of laundry that's been done or better yet the dishwasher is completely empty. It's not having to say anything at all, yet the other person knows exactly how much you love them. It's experiencing some of the hardest times of your life, yet knowing that with your true love by your side nothing (not even infertility) could tear you apart. I could ramble on for hours, but I won't because you're probably already rolling your eyes. ;)
I know I still have a lot to learn about marriage and love, however, I have to say I think we have a pretty good start, no matter what is thrown our way. Our profound, tender affection will last until were old, and he's gray because, let's face it, I will dye my hair until the day I die. Happy Love Day everyone and until next time, always Chasing Hope.
Monday, February 9, 2015
Infertility IS a Real Thing
For me, this post has been a long time coming. I want to give the facts about infertility. The definition of infertility, as defined by the CDC, is not being able to get pregnant after ONE year of unprotected sex. This means that anything past one year can result in seeing a Reproductive Endocrinologist (RE for short). So, since the CDC recognizes it as a medical condition so do I. No amount of "relaxing", "not worrying about it", or even "putting your legs up" will fix the problem. I will say that the first year we spent trying, we did relax and have fun. However, at some point you start to think that something is wrong with you, and you get scared. After all having children and getting pregnant should be the easiest thing in the world. If only that were the case.
I find it utterly shocking that 1 in 10 women ages 15-44, in just the United States, have a difficult time getting pregnant. As most of you that will be reading this know, there are several steps in the process of getting pregnant. 1). A woman’s body must release an egg from one of her ovaries (ovulation). 2). A man's sperm must join with the egg along the way (fertilize). 3). The fertilized egg must go through a fallopian tube toward the uterus (womb). 4). The fertilized egg must attach to the inside of the uterus (implantation). So at any point something could go wrong. There are also other factors that can contribute to infertility like: irregular periods or no periods, painful periods, endometriosis, pelvic inflammatory disease, or more than one miscarriage. All of this information is from the CDC.gov website if you would like to take a look. After all, I am an English teacher, and I teach my students to give credit where credit is due, so I will do the same. :)
Now, a little back story about yours truly. I'm pretty sure I fall into the category of irregular periods. When I was younger, in Jr. High, I started having a period early on. Not the regular every 28-32 days with about a week of bleeding. I'm talking at least 2 weeks of bleeding with mind blowing cramping. Doctors finally helped the issue by putting me on a form of birth control (unknown to me at the time, and honestly, I think my mother was scared to tell me what I was on for fear I would go wild). This helped and made me regular and I didn't need birth control again until I turned 18.
Fast forward several years, a wedding later, and my amazing husband and I are ready to have children. I go off of the pill and discover that I didn't have a period on my own. By that I mean I didn't bleed for 90 days; talk about a long cycle. After months of semi-normal cycles, tracking my ovulation, and timing intercourse, we had had enough. We finally talked to the doctor about our options and they led us to a simpler solution, medicine. When I was first put on the ovulation medication, we had been trying for a little over a year. It seemed like every cycle was a gamble, would it work or would we have wasted, yet again, another month. Finally, we had our answer in the spring of '14, my ovulation kit spiked and I almost cried. It was the first positive test I had ever taken. Trust me after peeing on 15 plus pregnancy tests and always getting a negative, a positive anything will lift your sprits.
With all of this being said, I just want it to be known that infertility is a medical condition. After all, you wouldn't tell someone who has cancer that they need to relax. NO, you would pray that they see the best doctors and get the best possible treatment out there. Infertility isn't any different. I found this funny, but depressing, definition on Pinterest that I had to share. Infertility (n): a medical condition that diminishes self-esteem, your social life, as well as checking and savings accounts. It causes sudden urges to pee on sticks, cry, scream, and a fear of pregnancy announcements: treated by a medical specialist who you pay to knock you up (this does not always work). Until next time, always Chasing Hope.
I find it utterly shocking that 1 in 10 women ages 15-44, in just the United States, have a difficult time getting pregnant. As most of you that will be reading this know, there are several steps in the process of getting pregnant. 1). A woman’s body must release an egg from one of her ovaries (ovulation). 2). A man's sperm must join with the egg along the way (fertilize). 3). The fertilized egg must go through a fallopian tube toward the uterus (womb). 4). The fertilized egg must attach to the inside of the uterus (implantation). So at any point something could go wrong. There are also other factors that can contribute to infertility like: irregular periods or no periods, painful periods, endometriosis, pelvic inflammatory disease, or more than one miscarriage. All of this information is from the CDC.gov website if you would like to take a look. After all, I am an English teacher, and I teach my students to give credit where credit is due, so I will do the same. :)
Now, a little back story about yours truly. I'm pretty sure I fall into the category of irregular periods. When I was younger, in Jr. High, I started having a period early on. Not the regular every 28-32 days with about a week of bleeding. I'm talking at least 2 weeks of bleeding with mind blowing cramping. Doctors finally helped the issue by putting me on a form of birth control (unknown to me at the time, and honestly, I think my mother was scared to tell me what I was on for fear I would go wild). This helped and made me regular and I didn't need birth control again until I turned 18.
Fast forward several years, a wedding later, and my amazing husband and I are ready to have children. I go off of the pill and discover that I didn't have a period on my own. By that I mean I didn't bleed for 90 days; talk about a long cycle. After months of semi-normal cycles, tracking my ovulation, and timing intercourse, we had had enough. We finally talked to the doctor about our options and they led us to a simpler solution, medicine. When I was first put on the ovulation medication, we had been trying for a little over a year. It seemed like every cycle was a gamble, would it work or would we have wasted, yet again, another month. Finally, we had our answer in the spring of '14, my ovulation kit spiked and I almost cried. It was the first positive test I had ever taken. Trust me after peeing on 15 plus pregnancy tests and always getting a negative, a positive anything will lift your sprits.
With all of this being said, I just want it to be known that infertility is a medical condition. After all, you wouldn't tell someone who has cancer that they need to relax. NO, you would pray that they see the best doctors and get the best possible treatment out there. Infertility isn't any different. I found this funny, but depressing, definition on Pinterest that I had to share. Infertility (n): a medical condition that diminishes self-esteem, your social life, as well as checking and savings accounts. It causes sudden urges to pee on sticks, cry, scream, and a fear of pregnancy announcements: treated by a medical specialist who you pay to knock you up (this does not always work). Until next time, always Chasing Hope.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Witnessing a Little Miracle
Over three months ago, WOW, I had the privilege to watch one of the most beautiful things, probably, in the entire world. I got to witness my best friend give birth to her first born. Let me back up about 25 years. I have known my best friend for as long as I can remember. Our mom's were best friends, thus it was destiny for us as well. She hasn't always lived close, but we've stayed in touch through high school and even college. We were maid of honors at our weddings, and we've seen so much together.
So, when she found out she was expecting her first, naturally I was so excited. Yet, at the same time I was an emotional mess. We had been struggling to start our own family for so long, and it just wasn't (still isn't) working for us. My heart sinks just writing this, but at that moment I was so jealous I almost couldn't stand myself. How on earth could I be so self-centered and worry about my own problems when she was getting ready to experience the biggest blessing in the world, a sweet baby. Sadly, I struggled throughout those nine months, until I got a call Saturday morning on October 25, 2014. It was my mother, she was asking if I had talked to my BF's mom. I told her I hadn't due to the fact that cell service at our house is horrible. My mom proceeded to say that my BF was in labor and was wondering if I was going to go to the hospital. At this point I was going to hold out and possibly wait until the baby came (they lived 1 1/2 hour away and the hospital was another 30 minutes away). I told her my plan and she asked if I knew that my BF wanted me in the delivery room when she delivered. I don't know if it was all the extra hormones left over from the fertility treatments, but I started bawling like a baby, and told my mother I would shower, throw some clothes in a bag, and we would drive as fast as we could to get there. I think I set a world record for myself. I showered, applied make-up, and did my hair in 20 minutes. It usually takes me a good 45 minutes to get ready, but we didn't have time to waste.
Upon arrival, we waited for 8 hours for my new nephew to show up. It seemed like a week until she was ready to push. Now, I have never had children or witnessed a birth before (yes, not even in health class, I looked away). As I am coaching my best friend through her labor, I had this sense that I was meant to be there. Then in the blink of an eye his little head popped out. Through tears in my eyes, I coached her through the last leg of the labor, out popped my little red-headed nephew, and I completely lost it. All the pain, and sorrow I had ever felt throughout our trying to conceive journey just faded away. All of my focus was on that sweet little baby laying on the weighing table. Only a perfect God could design a woman's body to accomplish such a miraculous feat. I know that the birth of my own children will be just as great, but at this moment this is at the top of my life's highlights. It might be one point higher than my wedding day (sorry honey). I will always remember that day, and will always be grateful that they included me in the delivery of their first baby. I just pray that one day I will be able to repay the favor of letting her be in the delivery room when it's our turn. Until next time, always Chasing Hope.
So, when she found out she was expecting her first, naturally I was so excited. Yet, at the same time I was an emotional mess. We had been struggling to start our own family for so long, and it just wasn't (still isn't) working for us. My heart sinks just writing this, but at that moment I was so jealous I almost couldn't stand myself. How on earth could I be so self-centered and worry about my own problems when she was getting ready to experience the biggest blessing in the world, a sweet baby. Sadly, I struggled throughout those nine months, until I got a call Saturday morning on October 25, 2014. It was my mother, she was asking if I had talked to my BF's mom. I told her I hadn't due to the fact that cell service at our house is horrible. My mom proceeded to say that my BF was in labor and was wondering if I was going to go to the hospital. At this point I was going to hold out and possibly wait until the baby came (they lived 1 1/2 hour away and the hospital was another 30 minutes away). I told her my plan and she asked if I knew that my BF wanted me in the delivery room when she delivered. I don't know if it was all the extra hormones left over from the fertility treatments, but I started bawling like a baby, and told my mother I would shower, throw some clothes in a bag, and we would drive as fast as we could to get there. I think I set a world record for myself. I showered, applied make-up, and did my hair in 20 minutes. It usually takes me a good 45 minutes to get ready, but we didn't have time to waste.
Upon arrival, we waited for 8 hours for my new nephew to show up. It seemed like a week until she was ready to push. Now, I have never had children or witnessed a birth before (yes, not even in health class, I looked away). As I am coaching my best friend through her labor, I had this sense that I was meant to be there. Then in the blink of an eye his little head popped out. Through tears in my eyes, I coached her through the last leg of the labor, out popped my little red-headed nephew, and I completely lost it. All the pain, and sorrow I had ever felt throughout our trying to conceive journey just faded away. All of my focus was on that sweet little baby laying on the weighing table. Only a perfect God could design a woman's body to accomplish such a miraculous feat. I know that the birth of my own children will be just as great, but at this moment this is at the top of my life's highlights. It might be one point higher than my wedding day (sorry honey). I will always remember that day, and will always be grateful that they included me in the delivery of their first baby. I just pray that one day I will be able to repay the favor of letting her be in the delivery room when it's our turn. Until next time, always Chasing Hope.
How I Cope
Throughout this journey there are have been good days, and days where it is hard to get out of bed, and take a shower. The best way to describe it would be the craziest roller coaster you have ever been on. Oh, and I should mention I HATE roller coasters, they make me sick. A good day would be a new procedure they are going to try, after all it might work. Now, a terrible day, you've waited those dreaded 2 weeks, and it's time to either start the cycle or take the test. I always opt to wait for the cycle, but on the off chance that I test; I am once again reminded that I am alone, one pink line. So, to deal with this crazy mess that I call my life right now. I find comfort in multiple outlets like, reading. I am a huge nerd and if I could I would read on the couch all day. Thankfully, I have an amazing job where I get to help my students find their love of reading. My other major outlet is children. Now, you might think that to be a little crazy because, after all, I want children and it just isn't working for me. Yet, I have found that children are my coping mechanism. It doesn't matter if they are an infant, toddler, a six year old, or even in Jr. High. I have realized that when I surround myself with them the pain goes away.
Now, the opposite can be said for those who are pregnant. I don't know what it is but (well that's just not true I know exactly what it is, jealousy, and I hate it) I have a difficult time being around them. They possess the one thing that, for the life of me, I cannot obtain, the pregnant belly with a baby inside. So, if you find that you are pregnant and we don't talk much in the next nine months please, don't take it to heart. It is just really hard for me to be around you because the reminder is always right in front of me.
The same can be said for attending baby showers. It isn't that I'm not happy for the mommy-to-be I just can't be around all of the baby reminders. The baby clothes, cribs, and adorable decorations are just too much for me to bear. I will always support my family and friends who are pregnant by buying gifts, but please don't be upset if I send it with a friend or other family member.
However, as soon as that sweet little baby makes his debut I'm awestruck. I have a weakness for children no matter the age. How can I possibly pass up the kissable baby, or the toddler who taunts me to "chase" them. I simply can't. I have friends who sometimes ask if it's ok , and I think are hesitant, at times, to bring their children around me. In this post I am crushing that thought. I couldn't imagine NOT seeing that sweet child, how much they have grown, and that they have skipped walking and are running around grabbing everything. The answer will always be, YES, I want you to bring them so I can shower them with 100 kisses, maybe I should start wearing lipstick. Know that I love them almost as much as you do and always will. So, I hope this post clears up a few things about how I personally cope with the hand we have been dealt. Until next time, always Chasing Hope.
Now, the opposite can be said for those who are pregnant. I don't know what it is but (well that's just not true I know exactly what it is, jealousy, and I hate it) I have a difficult time being around them. They possess the one thing that, for the life of me, I cannot obtain, the pregnant belly with a baby inside. So, if you find that you are pregnant and we don't talk much in the next nine months please, don't take it to heart. It is just really hard for me to be around you because the reminder is always right in front of me.
The same can be said for attending baby showers. It isn't that I'm not happy for the mommy-to-be I just can't be around all of the baby reminders. The baby clothes, cribs, and adorable decorations are just too much for me to bear. I will always support my family and friends who are pregnant by buying gifts, but please don't be upset if I send it with a friend or other family member.
However, as soon as that sweet little baby makes his debut I'm awestruck. I have a weakness for children no matter the age. How can I possibly pass up the kissable baby, or the toddler who taunts me to "chase" them. I simply can't. I have friends who sometimes ask if it's ok , and I think are hesitant, at times, to bring their children around me. In this post I am crushing that thought. I couldn't imagine NOT seeing that sweet child, how much they have grown, and that they have skipped walking and are running around grabbing everything. The answer will always be, YES, I want you to bring them so I can shower them with 100 kisses, maybe I should start wearing lipstick. Know that I love them almost as much as you do and always will. So, I hope this post clears up a few things about how I personally cope with the hand we have been dealt. Until next time, always Chasing Hope.
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