🙏

Don’t pray for people places and things to change. Pray for a different perspective and you will be blessed when you open your eyes in the morning.

Fear

Fear is a funny thing.

Sometimes it’s staring you down when you look in the mirror while brushing your teeth. Sometimes it waits patiently between your ribs and your belly button, whispering quietly. Sometimes it shakes every cell in your body, stopping your breaths, twisting your stomach into knots, bubbling out of your pores in tiny beads of sweat.

It scares me how scared I am in this moment. Nothing in the last two months has been what it seemed or what I thought it was. When I found out I had a cyst, I thought that would be it. Take care of it and move on to getting pregnant. When I found out I was pregnant, I thought for a split moment I might actually be having a baby. When I found out it was ectopic I felt relief, sadness yes, but relief that I finally could stop wondering what was going to happen. When I found out my incisions were infected, I was frustrated but antibiotics seemed to resolve it. When I thought I was finally recovering, I though the yeast infection would be the last worry. When I finally felt better, I thought I would be returning to work. When I finally was about to start work, I couldn’t believe I caught a cold. And when I finally got over my cold, I couldn’t believe it when the bleeding started again. And when I took a pregnancy test, I certainly couldn’t believe that it said pregnant.

Today when I found out my hcg is still rising, I could believe it. Beside at this point, I would believe anything. When I had an ultrasound today, I couldn’t believe that a cyst that was now seen on my left ovary had doubled in size in 2 days. I can’t believe any of it.

Fear is the thing keeping me busy. Fear is the thing keeping me up at night. Fear is what makes me go to sleep as soon as darkness falls. Fear is what wakes me at the crack of dawn.

I am scared. I am unsure. I am tired. So so very tired. Tired of being scared. Tired of being unsure.

I don’t know what’s going on in my body and it’s hard.

I don’t ask people for much, but if you read this, maybe you could shoot out a quick prayer for me to find some peace within all this craziness. I know people out there have it so much worse than I do and I’ll pray for them as well.

Thank you cyber world.

Well wow.

I don’t even know where to begin.

The last month of my life has been so shocking and surreal. I feel as though I’ve been in a dream… More like a nightmare but… Still.

As you guys know, I had surgery for an endometrioma on April 3rd. It went really well and my recovery was going really well. I started to finally feel better, even well enough to go to a three day class that I had been so looking forward to. I got my period on that Sunday and I was so excited because it meant I would soon be starting clomid. It meant that my baby dreams were almost coming true.

Sunday night, I had just gotten home and I was so happy to have been to this class. My boyfriend asked me to go for a walk with him at the beach. This was nothing out of the ordinary for us, so you can imagine my surprise when I turned around on top of the sandy fine to see him down on one knee. (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

My love proposed and I, of course, said absolutely yes.

We were engaged. And I’ve never been so happy.

The next morning my mom came over and I told her the great news. Everyone was so happy. My mom left and I got in my car to go meet a friend for coffee. As I was driving I began to experience pretty intense cramps. They got worse and worse and worse until eventually I pulled over, unable to drive. I called my FIANCÉ! and told him that I needed him to drive me to the ER. Not exactly the way I wanted to celebrate but I figured I was having some sort of complication from my surgery.

My fiance came to pick me up and we drove to the ER. I have never been in so much pain. Once we got to the ER, my mom met us, because my fiance had to leave to pick up some stuff for work. I was hooked up to machines and given morphine, which by the way is so awful. The morphine was almost as unbearable as the pain but once the side effects wore off and it kicked in, I was feeling much better. The doctors thought that I had a kidney stone and were going to do CT scan. They took me for an ultrasound and did the necessary blood and urine tests. After my ultrasound, I received some very shocking news. My urine test came back positive for pregnancy. My jaw dropped and I’ve never seen a look of such shock on someone’s face. My mom was floored. I texted my fiance immediately to tell him what was going on and he was just as shocked.

After the blood tests confirmed I was pregnant, they were unable to do a CT scan and basically told me to prepare for a miscarriage. I went home and spent the next two days worried and stressed out. I returned to my doctor two days later for another blood test. I was pretty sure I had miscarried and was simply waiting for the blood test to confirm it.

Two hours later, another huge shock. My HCG levels had doubled and my doctor was pretty confident that this could turn into a good pregnancy. I went home and spent the rest of the week doing nothing other than worrying and obsessing about what was happening in my body. I was supposed to return the following week for an ultrasound. My bleeding and cramping had basically stopped and everyone around me was confident that I would remain pregnant. I, however, was not so sure.

Monday evening, I went to the beach with my fiance. Around 7 pm, as I was typing an email to my friend about what was going on, I began having cramps. Within 60 seconds, I was in excruciating pain and flagged my fiance to come back to the car. He immediately drove me to the ER. I couldn’t even wrap my mind around what was happening because it was all happening so fast. This whole month had happened in the blink of an eye. We got to the ER and I was helped into a wheelchair. A woman outside the ER asked me if I was having a baby and all but crumbled under the weight of her words. No. I wish.

I was admitted to the ER and was yet again hooked up to many machines and given painkillers. I went to the bathroom and saw how much I was bleeding. They performed an ultrasound and it was confirmed that I was having an ectopic pregnancy. About an hour later, I was wheeled into surgery to have the pregnancy removed. I have never been so scared in my life. I truly thought I might die.

This past week has been very hard. Weird and hard. I feel as though my brain is just off. I’ve been on the couch and on painkillers for a month… My brain just isn’t functioning. With all of the shocks in the past 2 weeks, both positive and negative, the emotions center of my brain is just unable to do anything. I haven’t cried. I haven’t felt upset at all about what happened. I’m just totally completely numb. It is so weird to have something like this happen so quickly. Your brain and your body just don’t know how to catch up.

I’m sure that in time I will begin to feel. I’ve really had the most incredible support from my fiance, I couldn’t ask for anyone better to be by my side.

Patience is a virtue

Wow. I didn’t think recovering from surgery would be quite so challenging. On day 4 it is still very hard for me to move around on my own, pretty much impossible to do without the painkillers. It really has surprised me a lot how much pain I’ve been in.

The hardest thing for me really has been sitting around. The waiting. You really wouldn’t think it would be so hard to sit on the couch for days and eat snacks and watch tv but believe me it is so challenging. I’m finally starting to understand why bed rest is so tough… And I am 100% sure that bed rest is 100 times harder than this, so I can only pray for all those mothers out there who have to endure bed rest as part of their pregnancy journey.

With all this sitting around I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Pregnancy is a big deal and I’m actually more scared than I ever thought I would be. But I’m not scared about carrying and raising a child.

My mind is a whirlwind. Especially with this new development of possibly-probably not ovulating. It makes it a lot harder to delay trying to get pregnant when I feel like I should start trying as soon as possible. I know other women out there have gone through this. I just wish I could find them and talk to them.

I could use a friend. And it’s so sad for me to admit it that I really have none. Not a single friend of mine even remembered I had surgery. Not one. It was a bit of a disappointment and something I’ve struggled with for a long time. Friendship has just never come easy to me.

I hope that I start feeling better soon.

Getting better..

So today has been a bit better. I skipped one of my medication doses and took that as a good sign. It’s hard to manage the emotional side of taking painkillers when you’re sober. Many people refrain from it entirely but I’ve always been very honest about the fact that I’m not a martyr. And if taking two Percocet allows me to get up and walk around and shower, as opposed to sitting on the couch for the 10th hour today, then that is what I’ll do. It does however make me feel a little uneasy. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t enjoy it but I’d also be lying if I said it didn’t make me anxious. It’s a double edges sword and I really just can’t wait to be better and focus on the most important thing – making a baby. MY baby. I’m so excited at times, I’m moved to tears. It’s almost too cheesy, even for me.

I’m looking forward to this journey, even though it’s kind of gotten off to a rocky start. I’m confident that things will work out the way they are supposed to. I’m just looking forward to the journey.

I’m a horrible blogger!

Gosh! I hate how hard it is for me to blog. It boggles my mind that something I want to do seems so hard to stay on top of.
The last few months have been hard. We were trying from January until about two weeks ago, with no luck. My first cycle was 65 days long… Ridiculously late and very stressful. Between taking many pregnancy tests, continually calling my doctor and feeling like every twinge and pang was a pregnancy symptom, it’s safe to say it sucked. My doctor was dismissive and awful so I decided to visit my general practitioner who told me to track my temperature during the next cycle. I tracked my temp and took an expensive digital ovulation test every day for 30 days.

The bad news? I never ovulated. That was deflating.

I decided to switch doctors and at my first appointment with the new doctor he decided that I wasn’t ovulating at all. Upon doing his first pelvic exam, he discovered I had a very large endometrioma that needed to be removed immediately. That was a hard moment. Of course you want to be positive and not let your mind go to horrible places but it’s much harder than you’d think. My biggest fear my whole entire life (for some unknown reason) has been that I can’t have kids. It’s caused me so much anguish and been the main reason why I’ve been so anxious to start trying. Anyway, I scheduled my appointment for Thursday (yesterday) and the last week of waiting was the toughest week. It was just so hard to wait and wait, knowing that this large thing was inside me. It didn’t hurt very much but I wonder if it didn’t hurt or I was just used to it. I’ve had pelvic pain on and off for many years so maybe most of the time I just don’t notice.

Finally yesterday came. I got up early because I couldn’t sleep and I went to the store to make sure I had enough snacks and frozen food haha. Of course that was super important. Then I walked the dogs, cleaned up the house and it was time to go. We got to the surgery center at 10:30 and I was taken back to pre op pretty quickly. I wasn’t even that nervous which actually made me more nervous hahaha. I know that sounds crazy but I’m so used to being panicked. Finally I was wheeled into the OR and within minutes, I was out. I woke up and was definitely in pain but also drugged. The surgery went well and even though it was confirmed that I do indeed have endometriosis (disheartening to say the least), it was also confirmed that it isn’t that severe which is the good news. The endometrioma was removed and I only lost 10 cc’s of blood which is incredible!

I’ve been home since 4 pm yesterday and the pain has been pretty bad. However, the painkillers are finally working and I’m feeling much better.

Emotionally, it’s been hard to wrap my mind around but I actually feel less nervous than I did before I found it. I’m the kind of person that finds it incredibly difficult to not know what’s going on. As soon as someone takes me seriously and gives me the information I need, whether or not it’s bad news, I feel a lot of relief. I know now that there are things I can do. As soon as I recover from this surgery, my doctor will put me on clomid to hopefully get me ovulating. I’m confident that this will work and well be pregnant within the next 6 months. I’m feeling hopeful and confident and can’t wait to share this journey with you. : )

Baby time!

This is my first post in quiet a while. Things have been good in my neck of the woods but I haven’t felt much like writing. I was really busy with work and was struggling with some anxiety problems, which I’m still working on. Now that I have a break from work, I’m really trying to put myself first and take care of me. That includes writing. I wanted to write before because I wanted to BE somebody. I wanted people to watch and clap when I said something clever. It seems so much of my life is dictated by this need for someone to be watching. But I’m really turning that around. I want to do things for myself.
This year is about big change but it’s also about remaining true to myself. I decided to start writing again because I can’t seem to quiet my mind – this time it’s for a good reason.

We are officially trying for a baby!

I am so thrilled but I also feel like I’m walking on eggshells. It’s embarrassing to admit this but the last few times I told people we were trying, my SO changed his mind. It was really hard to handle. But I’m not dwelling on things I can’t change. So now, we are really trying. And because I literally can not keep my mouth shut about it, I have decided to start writing. I told myself I wouldn’t tell anyone were trying but I’ve already told too many people. I need to write about all the things I’ve been obsessing about.

So here’s the story. Watch out, this blog is about to get TMI.

My last period started on December 22. It lasted a few days, as it always does. We officially started trying on December 31. I believe I ovulated on January 6 and that’s where I’m at!

I’m sure no one cares, but I really need a place to spill all my thoughts. I am obsessing obsessing obsessing. I want so badly for this to be the month. I love this potential baby more than anything. I am a crazy crazy lady. Please send me baby dust! This will be an emotional ride but I am so ready.

Truth

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These words are everything to me today. I have prayed for the strength and ability to let go. There are many things that are not meant for me. Small things, big things, the things that occupy the hollow space between my skull and the squishy folds of my brain.
Grace is all I need.
I want the world to run smoothly, not just for myself but for others too. Though that doesn’t always seen to be true especially when jealousy rears it’s ugly head (it does often). This past week has just been about figuring out which screws are loose in my mind. I’ve finally realized that what I thought would make my life perfect will not.. At all. It is the hardest thing to admit to myself let alone to other people.
Marriage and babies will not fix me. They never would have. They won’t now.
But what will fix me is taking time for myself. Another hard thing for me to do. I don’t know how to do it to be quite honest. I think I do but then I end up sitting at home watching tv for hours on end – like I’m doing at this exact moment as I write this post. I’m trying my hardest to figure out what makes me happy. I don’t know why it’s so hard – it seems like it should be easier, but what do I know.
So today, I’m sucking it up and I’m keeping those words in my mind. Today I’m hoping for grace.

Open

I haven’t looked you in the eyes in days. I mean, really looked you in the eyes. If you look hard enough you might actually see what’s there and that’s too painful for me to deal with right now. I find myself in this place between reality and fiction where I feel not quite empty but not quite whole either. Everything has a fuzzy liner to it.
Do you ever scroll through the motivational sayings on Pinterest? The ones with the cute photos, the ones that make you feel fuzzy for just a second. That’s it, just a chance that a second will erase the thoughts firing in your brain. Maybe one pin doesn’t do it but two might. Keep scrolling.
Today when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see me. I usually do. I can tell because I also see the poor complexion that I complain about daily. But today, nothing. I wonder how long this will last. I realized that what I’m feeling, the ache in my belly, the cringe at someone else’s wedding ring or bulging belly is so much more than what it seems. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I’m wrong to place the blame where blame isn’t due. Maybe the desire, the ache, the cringe, maybe it comes from somewhere else.
People used to tell me that I needed to want babies for the right reason. I thought I did, but now I’m not so sure.
The one thing I’m proud of though, is that I know how hard the ground feels when you jump too soon. I’ve been there before. I remember the sharpness of my breath and the bottomless pit of my stomach as I realize, halfway to the ground, just how badly I wish I hadn’t jumped.

I can’t breathe…

I can’t breathe because I’m waiting for you.

Every second of my day is spent in this whirlwind, in this black hole, this obsession fueled string of moments that just.. keep… stringing…. along. 

 

We are not in this together. We are not on the same team. I am.. I am in this. That’s it. 

 

I am hurting. And because I’m hurting I turn my back on this. On this place that’s supposed to be mind, that IS mine, that I created for me and for me only. Why? Because I’m afraid I’ll be judged by the thinness of my words. By how unbelievably meaningless this is all sounds when I read the words aloud. When I look at what has come out of my mouth.. or fingers. Whatever. The fact that I go to sleep and wake up with the same thought playing in my mind. It is killing me. These thoughts, these obsessions, they are slowly killing me and I mean that in the most non-dramatic way. I never knew something could be so important to someone. I didn’t know, when I was 5 and planning my dream wedding in my head and spending hours playing house with my favorite baby dolls that in reality I would be haunted by these dreams every second of every day. When you’re five, you think your dreams will come true. When you’re five, you think you’ll grow up to be just like everyone else. You don’t dream about being the girl on the sideline. The girl watching all her friends get engaged, get married, get pregnant, raise babies. You know you’ll be one of them because it’s all you’ve ever wanted. Even at age five, you know this. You don’t dream of being the girl who can’t wait another second for her prince charming to wake up and see her standing in front of him, finally realizing what he’s been missing for the last 5 years. You don’t dream of being her. 

But I’m her. And not only have I dreamed my whole life about not being that girl, but I’ve spent the last five years having my heart broken repeatedly by that boy. And I’ve spent 500 heartbreaks crying my eyes out, tearing myself apart for being such a loser and 500 pep talks about how I can keep waiting and I don’t need it and it’s not important and it doesn’t matter. 500 moments where I think for just a split second that what I tell myself is almost true. 500 moments where I realize it’s not. 

Why am I this person? Why am I someone so obsessed with something I clearly cannot have right now. If God had just made me like my sister, a girl who doesn’t dream of weddings and babies but a fat paycheck and a lavishly furnished apartment in her favorite metropolitan city. If I could just be her, it wouldn’t matter that on my left hand still sits the pearl ring my mother gave me when I was 13. 

I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want to want what I want. And yet, I can’t stop. I can’t stop obsessing, crying, cursing, blaming, regretting, resenting. I don’t want these dreams anymore. I’d give anything for them to go away.