The Never-ending Storm

Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you can’t overcome the things that life throws at you. I think at some point you just have to stand like a statue in a storm and wait for it to pass. Not hide, not fight it, just let it happen. 

When my sister-in-law was attacked in July it was the start of a nightmare that I still haven’t woken up from. There have been some good moments sandwiched in the middle but honestly, these past couples months have just sucked. 

No rhyme and not yet a reason. 

Last Thursday we transferred two “perfect” embryos. The lab said that our embryos were winning the beauty pageant. The transfer went smooth and things felt like they were starting to get a little brighter. 

Over the weekend, what I thought was muscle pain from walking in the boot from the wreck where I broke three bones in my foot turned into the worst pain I’ve ever felt in my life. Monday I was admitted to the hospital for a massive blood clot that spans three veins and goes from my calf to my thigh. 

Thursday, they did my beta. We knew it was early but my RE thought it would be better to know ASAP given the circumstances. It came back a 10. The nurse said it could still go up and that she was hopeful and that we needed to have it re-done on Saturday. 

It is now Saturday and I’m still here. I was just taken off the blood thinner drip in my IV this morning and converted to injections. The did my next beta and I knew as soon as I heard my nurses voice that it was bad news. 

The beta did not double. 

She said I have to stay on all medications and they will re-do it on Tuesday just to be sure but I know that is simply protocol and their due diligence. 

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t crushed. I wanted the nurse to hook up my IV again and give me something to numb the pain. I wanted to rip off my estrogen patches off and throw the PIO out of the third story hospital window. 

But, here I stand (well lay) and I just have to let it happen. I have to go through these motions and just wait for the storm to pass. 

Now don’t think I’m just laying here feeling sorry for myself. Over the past two months I am reminded of the fight that is inside me and my family, and I am reminded of how my husband always has the right things to say, and that his arms wrapped around me make the storm a little easie to bear. 

We still have 8 beautiful embryos on ice, 4 of which were so great they were frozen on day 5. 

I now can focus on getting out of this damn hospital and getting back to some sort of normal and then doing it all over again. I truly believe this transfer was working until I was admitted into the hospital and put on some pretty serious high doses of blood thinners.

We will never know…



I don’t think there is anything harder than watching your husbands grief on the local news. When they reached out to us he was adamant that he be the one to speak to them and that he get a chance to brag about his sister. 

My Husband’s interview
Today we will say good-bye. Then we will have to move forward and hope that time will make it a little easier. 

I promised her I would look after her baby if she ever had to leave her behind on Earth, and I told my husband that I know she is watching after mine in Heaven. 

Please say a prayer for our family.

Microblog Monday – Glorying the Gone

Why do we glorify things after they are gone?

For example:
We talk about ex’s and how wonderful the relationship was, when in reality maybe they cheated on you, you fought all the time, or maybe it just wasn’t that great.
We think of friendships that have ended, we may even consider trying to re-kindle the friendship. But how did we forget that they weren’t there in our time of need, or why the friendship ended in the first place? They didn’t show up for x, y, and z, and were usually always busy unless it was something that would benefit them.

I have found myself praising the times I had with my foster children last year, wishing they were back in my home. What I forget are the nights that were spent crying and angry and confused. Some of these children broke me down to my core with harsh words, and their parents could be a countless times worse. Yet, there are days, that I wish we were still fostering.

This is where it gets touchy… People that have passed away. Once people are gone we choose to remember only the good things about that person. Obviously that’s what we all want. To be remember fondly, but what if, when that person was here, you weren’t fond of them. Maybe you had a falling out, maybe they are that family member that only brought drama and fighting, maybe they were a drug addict, an abuser, etc. Maybe you knew them in school and they were the one that bullied you, made you cry. Maybe they were your ex and the relationship ended horribly, there was cheating or abuse.

I believe, it’s because we are all broken people, loving other broken people.
In the heat of the moment it is sometimes easy to walk away, it’s easy to forget a friend and scorn a lover. But what happens when they are gone? When the anger and the pain are gone. What happens when that person isn’t here anymore to be angry at? What happens when you have pushed them so far away they won’t ever come back?
We are left with pictures of the good times, love letters from a happier time, memories of the times you spent with them, and it’s never enough
I believe this is the huge reason there are funerals, and why people send flowers. It’s to apologize for being broken, and not forgiving that person at some time in their life, for being broken too. I guess what I’m getting at, and what has been on my mind, is that glorifying those that are gone isn’t a bad thing, but we should try to work a little harder on doing it while they are still here.
Maybe if we sent flowers to our friends who are still here and supporting us, maybe if we wrote a few more loves letters to our significant others, and maybe if we took a little extra time to visit loved ones and call them for no reason, we wouldn’t have so many regrets when they are gone.

It took losing a lot of people, two miscarriages, and grief counseling for me to get to this point. I did a lot of crying, had a lot of regrets, and sent a lot of flowers to funeral homes before I figured it out. I’m not saying I don’t have regrets, and I’m sure I will continue to have some, but it is my hope, that when the ones I love leave, that they will know how much they meant to me, they will go with the memories of flowers I sent while they were still here, they will easily be able to recall times we have spent together.

Life is too short to have so much pride you can’t forgive the brokenness of others.

Microblog Monday – From the Ground Up

It was a fantastic weekend. Filled with lots of quality time with the ones I love the most.We had dinners, went to my niece’s basketball games, I got my bi-weekly gel manicure, did some shopping, and had a wonderful sushi lunch with my best friend then went to her house and spent some quality time with her daughter.

Yesterday, I woke up to a text from my husband with a link to a song. had goose bumps as soon as I heard it. I am so lucky to be with a man that after over 10 years he still surprises me with songs, and notes, etc. Then it got to these lyrics…

“me and you baby
walking our first steps, build our own family, one day at a time
ten little toes a painted pink room
a beautiful baby looks just like you”
I instantly got a lump in my throat. Part of the lyrics ring so true, because we remind ourselves daily that the donor egg process has to move one day at a time, that waiting is just part of it. Then the end of those lyrics, about their baby girl looking just like her. I can’t help but get a little emotional when I think that technically, our children won’t. I know in my heart, that it doesn’t matter, and that with my husband’s family and how everyone looks alike my odds are pretty slim anyways, but it was just a reminder that I wasn’t ready for.
It made me realize that lately I’ve started to change how I view certain things now that I’ve accepted the reality of donor eggs. I have started avoiding looking at picture of me or my family as children (and trying to find my future children in them), I have started getting a weird feeling when I hear others talk about who their child looks like, or acts like, and I have started seeing every pretty dark haired woman as the woman who could be helping me start a family. These aren’t bad things, if I don’t let them be, it’s just our reality and my heart accepted it long before my brain did.
I was 22 when I found out I had a balanced translocation and it didn’t take long for me to realize that after 2 d&c’s I would do whatever it took to not only avoid that at any cost but to have a child of my own. After foster parenting for a year I realized even more that the one part I’m not willing to give up on yet is carrying my child, to go through child birth, to finally have a good ultrasound…
So we continue to wait. One day at a time. And we’ll build this love, and this family, from the ground up…

Microblog Monday – Ink

Well I guess it’s Monday again…I don’t have much to say and no real updates to speak of so I’ll just post this.
We’re about half way done and it’s really starting to look amazing! I’m excited and this along with everything else in life is definitely teaching me patience. Learning that it takes time for the full picture. So I’m still waiting…
Check out more of Monte’s amazing work HERE.

Microblog Monday – Waiting


Is there a name for this season we are in? The season where the temperatures are tempting us every few days by hitting the high 60’s. The season where I have to wear layers because depending on the day, time, and location I am either burning up or freezing (especially at my desk).

The season of waiting.

Waiting for the grass to turn green, waiting for the flowers to bloom, waiting for some other woman to give me her eggs….haha!

Donor Egg Non-Update: I finally heard back from the nurse a couple of days after I left a message (which is out of the norm since she usually returns all calls and sometimes even driving home as late as 7:00 p.m.) I got a voicemail and she basically said she has a lot of “packets” out to potential donors and she is just waiting to hear back. She promised to keep me in the loop as paperwork started coming in. I trust her and I know she will but it’s hard not to call and bug her at least once a week to see if she has any updates. So I’m still waiting…

White Female in America

Last night my husband and I watched this episode of “Black∙ish“. It was a bold move and I felt like it was executed very well. I will get to why this episode inspired this post a little later. I highly suggest you watch it. It’s on Hulu and I’m assuming you can watch it online.

In the 9-10 months that we fostered children we had 5 African American children, and 4 Caucasian children. The two we had the longest (5 1/2 months) were African American. It is an experience that I believe humbled me in a way that only that experience could have. I could write a book about the differences in being a predominately white family and raising two African American children. I never realized how “white” my family was, until we had them. It was the second or third time going to a family function when the boy (who we called “Little Man”) asked, “Will there be any brown people there?” It wasn’t until then that I realized how him living in our home would affect not only us, but him.

One year ago today “Little Man” called me “Mom” for the first time. It showed up on my Timehop today, which felt so weird and fitting as the episode from last night still lingered in my brain. This is what I posted.

Just reading that this morning had me in tears. I’ll never forget that night. He had been with us almost 3 months and in that moment, as happy as I was to hear that word, I was so devastated… I was not this child’s mother, and she was alive and well and working very hard to get her children back. He was with us another 3 months after this, and we miss him and his sister every day, but there is a part of me that is thankful he is with his family. That is another post for another day but when you parent the broken child, and you see the devastation that comes from removing a child from his family, there is a peace in knowing that although their opportunities and lives may be very different where they are, that they are where God intended them to be.
Now, back to the episode from last night. I had a lump in my throat the entire time I watched it. I was watching this family (who you forget are actors in this episode) and I could see a pain in their eyes that I knew I would never understand. I remember parenting Little Man and his sister around the time something similar was happening in the media. I remember thinking I was responsible for these children and that I realized my fears for them were different than the fears I had for other children in my life. I remember when he walked to the bus one day after I had seen something in the news that I physically felt ill thinking that something could happen to him and it may have nothing to do with what he was doing, but simply what he looked like. The fact is, as “progressed” as the world is now versus 100+ years ago we still have a long way to go. Watch this episode and I hope you feel that way too. There is a part when they start talking about Obama becoming President and I cried as they explained how they felt.
I am ashamed of some of the things I have seen. Not only in the media, but even in my Facebook News Feed. I have had to delete multiple people from school, work, and even a family member, because of their blatant racism. I have seen them post things discouraging the #blacklivesmatter movement, and saying that all lives matter, and while that is true, I honestly don’t think this is a stand that white people can take. I’m sorry, but it’s just not. I only had a small taste of what it felt like to parent African American children and as much as I would love to sit here and tell you that it didn’t matter, it did. The differences were sometimes glaringly obvious. The looks I received when I had the children alone, were very different that the looks we got when my husband and I were both with them.
I actually had an older gentleman make a very racist, and presumptuous statement in front of the children when I had them alone at a restaurant. A statement that was only made because he assumed I was the biological mother of these two children and the man who fathered them was not with us. Yes, in 2015, in the United States, this man said something so hateful that I won’t even give it any more power by repeating it. It’s something I never even told my husband or family about because it just simply didn’t deserve the extra recognition.
I have struggled with this for so long. Where to stand on this subject because after all, I am white. As someone who truly believes that every single person on this planet deserves the same opportunities and treatment regardless of race, religion, sexual orientation, and more, we, as humans just simply aren’t there yet. I just don’t know how to express that. I don’t know how to tell my African American friends that I understand, because I just simply can’t. I have put off saying anything for so long because I am afraid that I just can’t do it justice. In reality, it’s not about me, the way that many of my African American friends and the general public feels is because of the people in the world who are not kind, and are not tolerant. As someone who is it makes me want to stand on a pedestal and shout “I get it, and I care, and I’m not racist”. But that alone means, it’s not about me. #blacklivesmatter did not start because of people like me who believe that everyone is equal.
In a world that is offended by everything, it is hard to be yourself. It is hard to remain positive and hopeful. It is hard to believe that the world is good when you can’t turn on the news without seeing crime, death, animal and child abuse. It is hard to not become bitter and cynical and believe that everything is a conspiracy. I lose sleep when I think of all the pain in this world. I think of the children I had in my home, and the things that some of them endured.
It breaks my heart to know that I can’t fix it.
All I can do is try to live a good life. Try to be kind and put positive things into this world. Try to not give power to mean and hateful people. Try to be an ally for family and friends that need me. Try to reach out to those that I see hurting and offer some kind words or listening ear.
I guess, to sum it all up. I hope that you take a moment, step back from yourself, and your struggles, and be there for someone else. Try to do good, to put good things into the world. Maybe one day, there will be enough of that and we can say we truly live in a world of equality. But right now, from where I’m standing, we still have a long way to go.

#Microblog Monday – Sunshine

The sun was out this weekend and it reminded me that spring is on it’s way. I’m not a fan of this time of year when everything is brown, and muddy so I am anxious for green grass, flowers, and blue skies!
No TTC updates. I called the nurse and left a message to get an update on donors. It feels a little like we aren’t doing anything right now and every now and then I remember, oh yea, we’re doing donor eggs….just have to wait on the donor. Hopefully she is close to approval on the 3 she told us about previously and we can start making a decision…Usually my anxiety would be through the roof but this time around has been so different. I am at peace with the process and I’m just letting things happen as they come.
Yesterday DH and I were enjoying a nice drive home, the window slightly cracked with a slight breeze coming in and the music playing through the speakers. In that moment I squeezed his hand and told him how much I love him. I am so thankful for that man. We have been through so much and I’m thankful that after all this time we still hold hands in the car and make each other laugh and smile. I feel like the only way I could ever repay him for the love he has given me through all of these years is to give him a child. I pray for it for him, more than I pray for myself.
I looked out the window and the sun was shining in a way that reminds me that God is with us. That He is guiding us down the road we are on. I said a prayer to myself and thanked Him for blessing me with all that I have. One day at a time.

Rambling Post – New Bed

Not much going on over here. Which is fine by me. I had a rough couple days after the HSG (the bleeding was horrible *sorry if TMI* and then I almost burned the house down Saturday night ((that’s another post for another day)) and have been coughing and miserable ever since from what I can only guess is smoke inhalation and/or a sinus infection) ANYWAYS!!!

We did get our new bed in! *eeeeekkkkk* I almost cried when we got it all setup! We have been wanting a King bed for some time now and DH insisted that since I would be hopefully going through IVF this year and may need some bed rest we should really invest in something a little better than our very old, bought slightly used mattress. So almost into my 30’s, I feel like I’m finally a little more of an adult now. Without further ado….

I am in love! It is so comfortable! I also invested in all new linens (comforter and sheets bought here) and new pillows (the shiny covers and pillows bought here) and it felt like we were sleeping at a 5 star hotel! I got the bed frame here if you are interested. While the shipping took two weeks it arrived in good shape and I’m happy with the quality of it (even more so than I was on the website)
It’s so nerve wracking buying a bed without seeing it but I’m happy with what we got. We got the mattress about a week ago and it’s been killing us not sleeping on it but it wasn’t going to fit on our old frame and we didn’t want to ruin it by putting it on the floor. So YAY! Sorry for the rambled post. Maybe I’ll have something productive to post soon. 🙂