Ovulation and PCOS

Shockingly enough, it’s possible without drugs!
I started my weight loss journey March 8th. It is now April 30th. I am down 28 pounds which is amazing for me. If you recall from my previous post, we took a much-needed fertility break because I just felt the timing was very bad. So, I have been going to the doctor every 30 days. Last month I went the day before my dad passed to find out I wasn’t pregnant and to let the doctor know that I was not going to actively pursue fertility treatments for a few months. He agreed and added that we would be using no medications. This was to see if my body was going to cooperate and work on its own.
As luck would have it, I ovulated. On my own! Now the problem is that we aren’t exactly sure when that happened. I was waiting for “the feeling” of ovulation. I thought I got that a few days after I normally did when everything is medically induced. HOWEVER, I think that was incorrect. The week AFTER, I had all the normal symptoms of ovulation…including EWCM. I actually texted Candi while she was at a baseball game to make sure it was possible that I could have ovulated and had this disgusting mucus.

Here I sit now, 7 days late for my period. I went in on the 23rd to the fertility doctors office to get my blood and ultrasound. At that moment, I would have been 5 days past ovulation if I actually ovulated that late. The test came back negative. No biggie because I am still not sure I could handle that and still grieving and everything else. I do, however, have a small voice in the back of my mind (and Candi’s voice in my ear) saying it’s still possible. I go back to the clinic tomorrow for another ultrasound and blood test. The doctor told me I should be starting anytime but I can’t wait for it to happen naturally at this point. I have been a raging bitch for the last 5 days. Not to mention extremely emotional. I have no other symptoms…so I have no idea what is going on but I will find out tomorrow if I don’t start before then.

This is just a small glimmer of hope to you ladies out there with PCOS. I know not everyone has a weight problem and I don’t believe this is all because of my weight. I am so much healthier now because of the products I use. I have energy, I get off the couch and run or walk, I play with my dogs outside rather than let them out and call them back in. I truly believe that with the right nutrition and healthy living you can reverse the effects of PCOS. I am trying my damnedest. My doctor said he was stunned that I had lost so much weight and that I ovulated on my own. Maybe this will mean I don’t have to spend every last dime on treatments anymore.

Keep up the good thoughts everyone. I am thinking about you always! Baby dust to everyone that wants it!

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OOOOOOOOH I wish I had a…

Vaginal ultrasound machine. I actually sang this to the tune of the Oscar Myer bologna song. Try it! It really works well. A vaginal ultrasound machine takes the guess-work out of ovulation. There are other things I could do. For instance, I could buy OPK’s. Which I did from the dollar tree. I am too cheap and too poor to buy them from the real pharmacy where they have multiple sticks and you don’t have to provide your own cup. The results were that I was not having a LH surge, yet I feel like there is something going on with my ovary…particularly the left one.
With us being on a “break” so to speak from the fertility clinic, I took no ovulation inducer. I am off every type of hormone known to medicine aside from what my body does, or doesn’t in my case, create. This is why I would like a vaginal ultrasound machine. You can see any follicles on your ovaries. Unfortunately, these machines cost many thousands of dollars. You also would probably do best if you had an ultrasound tech that could read them (or a really great husband that would hold the wand where you tell him…HAH!) I also have the thought that my bff would be coming over for ultrasounds all the time (they do come with the non vaginal wands when you buy the machine) so we can make sure little dude is alright.

This whole thought has been going on all week. I should be ovulating at some point this week if I were going to ovulate. I have no idea if it’s worth it to stay up until the husband gets home to baby dance and then be so exhausted in the morning I can’t function. I’m not sleeping all that well but apparently when Jeremy came home the other night and tried to “wake me up”, I smacked the shit out of him. I recall none of this. His being on 2nd shift makes procreation a very difficult thing. He is either waking up in the middle of his “night”, meaning 6am, to give me a sample in a cup or I am staying up way too late, meaning 12-1am, to do the deed and plant his seed. This makes us both very cranky.
ANYWAY! If i just had access to my very own ultrasound machine I would be set. I would know when I could sleep and not worry that ovulation is occurring at every turn. I would also know when to make my husband do his duties as a man.

Normally, I wouldn’t be worried about ovulation without medication. However, I have lost 20lbs in the last month and the doctor told me that with every 10lbs I lose my chances of ovulating go up a good percentage. This means I may not have to go back and spend every last dime I have to get knocked up. Or I could save those pennies to have an ultrasound machine…

Letter to my little one: For when you doubt my love

Good morning sunshine! Right now we are 12 weeks pregnant. That means that you have been growing for 10 weeks now. I’m still not feeling well yet, but I’m cherishing every moment I have with you, because I know how precious every minute is. If we haven’t told you yet, but I’m sure we have, you actually have 4 older siblings! You have your two sisters, Brooke and Emily, that you are well aware of. You also have your sister, Jordan, and your brother, Mason. We lost both of them before they were born and we miss them every day. So far, I’ve gotten to spend more time with you than I have with either of them. Thank you for hanging in there!

When we first found out I was pregnant with you, my doctor (who I adore!) told me that my blood work didn’t look good, and to be prepared that we might lose you. I was devastated. I sat in her office and cried hysterically, as she continued the conversation with another concern. If we did in fact lose you, she wanted us to take some time out from trying to have another baby. She was worried that I may not be able to handle another loss, mentally. I could barely wrap my head around the fact of losing yet another child, let alone not being able to try again for an undermined about of time. Luckily, your dad vetoed that idea. He knew how much we wanted you and taking time off wasn’t an option.

As I was waiting over an hour (and the longest hour of my life) to have more blood drawn, I asked your dad if we could let every one know that we were pregnant. I felt strongly that we either needed prayers, support, or both. He said to do whatever I felt I needed to do. Right there, at the doctors office, at 4 weeks pregnant, I told the world about you. I posted a message on Facebook for all the good thoughts and prayers our family and friends could muster. I told them how much I loved you and how I didn’t want to have to lose another baby. If you were going to go to Heaven, they would at least know the depth of my love for you, in the short time you were with us. At that moment I prayed a prayer I had never prayed before. I told God that you were His. He was in control of your destiny and that if he was going to take you, I’d let you go. I wouldn’t be happy about it though. I left this pregnancy up to Him.

I got my blood taken and the next day the doctor called with some good news. You were growing! Prayers and good thoughts continued to come in. My hormone levels were increasing the way they were supposed to, but we weren’t safe yet. I had blood drawn every day for a week. Each time the news was better and better! We made it to 6 weeks, when I lost Jordan- milestone. I heard your heartbeat and saw your picture- milestone. We made it to 9 weeks 4 days, when I lost Mason- milestone. We just made it to 12 weeks- milestone!

On Monday, your dad and I will get to see you again. It will have been 6 weeks since we’ve seen you last. You’ve grown a lot since then. They say you are about the size of a lime, but I don’t believe it. I check your heartbeat every few days, just to be sure, but you seem to be doing great! I can’t wait to see you, baby!

Now you may wonder someday, when did I first know that I wanted you. Well, always. There has never been a time that I questioned if I wanted to have kids or not. Not even for a second. I really knew and began thinking and planning about you when I was 14. I would watch a talk show called Maury. He had teens on his show that really wanted to have babies. They were trying hard to get pregnant and they were only the same age that I was! I really wanted you then, but I was smart enough to wait. I wanted to be married. I wanted to have a job. I wanted to be able to take care of you. No matter what though, I knew I wanted you.

When I was 18, I got married. I had a job. I joined the military. I was so ready to bring you into my life! I prayed for you every night and wished upon every star. God had other plans, though I didn’t know it at the time. I spent the 5 years that I was married waiting for you. My ex-husband was manipulative and abusive. It would not have been a happy environment for you, little one. Looking back, I’m glad you waited to come.

Fast forward 5 years and here we are. We have your dad and Brooke and Emily. Oh and of course the dog, Sam. He loves kids. He thinks he is one, actually. We have two angel babies in Heaven, watching over you. You are already so loved and have been for so long. Your dad is an amazing man and I can’t wait for you to meet him. You will love him so much. He is kind, caring, strong, hard working, and he wants you just as much as I do! We are so happy to have you, baby. You were wanted for so long, and now here you are. We are counting down the days until we see your smiling face. You are loved. You are wanted. You are a dream come true and an answered prayer.

Love Always,

Mom

 

Prepare to cry

Not so much a blog post today, just an update. If you haven’t noticed, Kristen and I have compiled a list of our favorite miscarriage and infertility songs on a tab called “Listen at your own risk.”  I have taken the liberty of adding all of the songs we’ve chosen into a YouTube playlist for your convenience. That way, you have access to them whenever you need a little inspiration or a really good cry. The link is on the “Listen at your own risk” page. Bring on the tears.

Insensitively: it’s how we roll

I am a very sensitive person. I do not have thick skin; I take things personally and I’m a crier. It’s common knowledge that we, as people, act differently depending on our situation. We may use different language and caution when dealing with superiors or strangers than if we were interacting with our close friends and family. I know Kristen and I told you that we’ll keep things uncensored, but there is a line we try not to cross. However, a can of worms was opened in a post a while back. You may at times find us insensitive and absurd; you may even lose respect for us. As business owners, our lives our out there for the public to see. We want to share our stories with you first hand, so that there is no misunderstanding in the future. We aren’t perfect. We’re human.

Kristen told you in a previous post, back when we were working at the flea market, that we called my cousin a whore. Please know, 1) we said it to her face, 2) we said it in jest, 3) we do not mean that she is literally a whore, 4) we do not discriminate: all pregnant women and women with children that we know (and love) are aware that we call them whores. We use it as a term of endearment. And maybe also out of jealousy.

Like previously mentioned, we act differently when faced with different situations and different people. After a loss, we grieve. Each person grieves differently. Kristen and I make ourselves feel better by saying since we aren’t teenagers or whores, we can’t stay pregnant. We constantly joke that if we were whores, maybe we’d have babies too… Well it was that month, after my “whore” cousin wished baby juju on us and Chris joked about giving me money after sex, that I did indeed get pregnant. I am now a whore, and proud of it! Maybe we were right after all!

***We know that teenagers and women who get pregnant unplanned also experience loss and complications. Pregnancy loss, stillbirth, and infant loss do not discriminate. It’s a difficult process for anyone involved, whether your pregnancy was planned or not. We are not being hateful, we are just telling you how we are coping, hoping you can see the difference between a joke and actual hate.***

It all started when I lost Mason. Chris was trying to make me feel better and he mentioned that no one ever said growing a human was easy. Through my tears, I responded with, “except for teenagers and whores.”

We live in a society that glamorizes teen pregnancy and almost encourages single parenthood by way of government assistance. I know some very good moms that got pregnant at teenagers and I also know some really bad ones. I actually have a cousin who will becoming a grandma in her early 30s because her stepson (16) is having a baby with his girlfriend (15) in March. Of course they had no problems with their pregnancy.

Chris and I plan to get married sometime in the future, but we would technically be better off financially, if we didn’t. I could apply for Medicaid and WIC, if not other government assistance programs. **Please, don’t think that I am putting down single parents or those who need government assistance. I am for government assistance when needed. I am going to school to be a social worker- I deal with government assistance. Chris is a bricklayer who builds houses in low-income neighborhoods. I am a disabled veteran. I receive government benefits. I know some pretty kick-ass single moms (and dads). Government assistance is awesome, when not used as a way of life.

I don’t remember how it happened, but shortly after the loss of Mason, the “whore” fad exploded. I made an e-card that I’ve received a lot of hate and mean comments over, but if you’re insulted, screw you- you’re probably a whore. 😉

babies

Tips for TTC part 2

Good morning folks.  I come to you again with some crazy ideas on making your baby dust work and dreams come true…or at least try.  I have been doing a lot of research on a few topics that I would like to share.  They may seem like common sense but I didn’t think about them or know that they would really change an outcome.  Now, as I have said before, I am no doctor so this is all coming from my research, word of mouth and I give it to you with hopes that you will find what works for you.

I have a few of them today.
First one is absolute crap but hilarious because people were stupid enough to try this. This was an answer to a yahoo question about weird and unique tips for trying to get pregnant.
“Well, when my husband and I were trying (we now have an 8 month old girl!) he used to pull out and then roar between my legs..supposedly to ‘scare the sperm’ right to the top! I can’t vouch for its scientific merits, but it worked for us!”
I would say I want video but that’s not true. I could imagine telling Jeremy “hey, after you finish you should yell at my vagina because your sperm need a good roar to scare them. Kind of like a pep talk you know?”
I can’t stop laughing. People are stupid.

Here’s another tip: don’t ask how to get pregnant on yahoo questions. People are stupid.

I read somewhere, of course I can’t find it now, that as you near ovulation your urine gets darker. I have absolutely no idea if this is true but I am keeping an eye on this. I am currently on CD8. I go in on the 3rd to check for follicles (I’m kind of hoping there are like 7 that way there are 7 possibilities to make a baby. I have never O’d more than 3 on this drug though…) I drink almost only water. Of course I am guzzling coffee as I type this. I will report back to you on the color of my pee. Right now it’s pretty much clear. I only know when I’m going to ovulate because my doctor tells me or gives me a shot so I will know almost exactly when it happens. I am completely awesome like that.

Third one for the day. Don’t douche. Yes. This is something I asked my doctor because I wanted to make sure I could say with certainty you should avoid. Douching can wipe out normal, GOOD bacteria. It can cause the ph balance to go all wacky and make it even harder to get pregnant. If you think you may have an infection or something, call your doctor because getting any infection cleared up will aid in getting a bun in the oven as well.

This last one for the day is something that many people argue about. Elevating your hips after the sexy time. Fact number one: if you lay with your legs up in the air after sex your hips/reproductive organs are not elevated. Only your legs are. If you put a pillow under your bum then your hips are slightly higher. Legs in the air=pointless. Hips (ACTUAL HIPS) elevated=possible help. It is also a good plan to lay around “after” for 10 minutes or so. You don’t have to. You don’t have to have your hips in the air. We have tried everything in this department. Sometimes I just get disgusted and get up right away. I will say that after an iui in my doctor’s office they have me lay on the flat table for 5-10 minutes. I assume if it’s good enough for them it’s good enough for me.

I hope that gives you a few more things to “try” or more advise to ignore. Stay tuned for part 3. I’m thinking up some good ones 🙂

I’m dreaming of a full uterus.

I had a dream last night that I am pregnant.  I hate those dreams.  I wake up in a panic thinking I need to call the doctor or take a test or something.  It’s never pleasant when I burst into tears 4 seconds after waking up.  Luckily my husband slept through it all and  I could get up and on my way to work.  I think a lot of this has to do with so much “baby” stuff going on.  Obviously, Candi is pregnant which is awesome but I find myself acting like that 10-year-old that didn’t get that really cool toy for Christmas and will spend the next few weeks feeling like a failure.  I love you Candi…I love the baby…this is just how I feel I am acting and I feel like a fool.  I have several friends that are getting ready or have already had their babies.  I should be doing that.  I should be getting ready to squeeze a giant head through my loins.  So, as I was with Thanksgiving, I am grouchy.  I am the actual Grinch.

I had a great weekend.  I got to spend time with my husband and accomplish things that I had on my “to-do” list for a while.  I actually enjoyed myself.  Until yesterday afternoon.  I have no idea what set me off but I had a melt down.  I began freaking out at everyone.  I yelled at my husband for no reason.  I threatened to blow up Walmart…yeah…I still hate that store.  I threatened to drive my car into a pole or something (please don’t worry about me, I’m ok…not suicidal…just extremely hormonal and my car was really pissing me off.)  There are a lot of things that may be changing in my life with work and the husbands work and what not and I am in panic mode.  So, yesterday was bad.
I keep trying to make myself not such a bitch.  As with everyone else in the world, we have a million things going on.  I keep trying to fit in fertility treatments into the schedule and that is making things worse.  We “tried” again this month.  I will find out 4 days before Christmas.  I don’t know what I think about any of it.  Right now I’m trying to keep myself a float in the crazy mess I have created for myself.  I used to have my house decorated by now.  Yesterday I threatened to burn my fake tree that is still in the box in the basement.  I just don’t know what to do with myself.  If you feel like this…you are not alone.  This psycho is right there with you.

This is what infertility does to you.  This is what happens when you lose a baby.  Well, I should say it could happen to you unless you are one of those disgustingly perky folks that some call optimists.  I have told Candi the she has to keep being the optimist because i have no optimistic bones in my body.  I married an optimist.  It makes me sick sometimes.  Sometimes I just want to be angry or miserable.  I pull out of it but sometimes I just need to be mad.  This baby stuff just adds to the anger.  So, here’s me trying to be better and not so Grinchy.  When I get home today, I will clean my house (I say that everyday) and I will put my wreath on the door.  1 step at a time right?

Hello Cracked Eggs…

Hi everyone.

Candi & Kristen asked me to guest post, so I figured “Hey, it’s Wednesday morning, why the heck not?” So, here goes…

A little bit about myself: *clears throat a la an AA meeting* Hi, my name is Trisha, I’m (almost) 35 years old and I am infertile. (Hi, Trisha!)

My story is pretty simple, though a bit different from Candi’s & Kristen’s – my husband, Michael, and I were married in October of 2002 and because of Mike’s reticence about having kids, we decided to wait a year before we started trying. During that year, we had to work out a few things between ourselves anyway. Anyway, so we waited a year, then started trying. Keep in mind that because we didn’t like condoms, we didn’t use protection at all and I wasn’t on the pill. Sure we’d agreed to wait a year but I figured if it happens, it happens. I was totally secure in my want of kids – Mike was just a little unsure, but I knew he would make an excellent father.

Anyway, we keep trying, keep trying, keep trying – nothing. We spent the time trying to get our finances in order (made the typical stupid mistakes with credit cards when we first got married), we work, go to school, graduate from college, get married, work, go to school, graduate from college (me this time), buy a house, etc. And nothing. Nothing happens. By this time we’re pretty sure there must be a problem so we finally hook up with a fertility specialist here in Akron.

Follow through with the typical testing, the blood draws (do NOT be afraid of needles if you decide to do this), etc. Then the doctor dropped the bomb – there is NOTHING wrong. Well, mostly. Mike’s boys are a little odd, but the “good ones” are plentiful – the doctor is stumped, we are too. So we do some IUI’s (inter-uterine inseminations) and by the 4th one we’re old hat at this – and yay, maybe this one worked?!

I was SO excited! I actually HAD a number – 5! Finally – I had the sore boobs, the bloating, etc.

But no. It didn’t stick. There’s a lot at the time that I could have blamed it on – almost 100% of the blame I felt at the time lay with the stress over the job I had at the time. By the time my boobs stopped hurting and the bloat went away, I’d gotten fired from that job. It’s safe to say that things are very different now.

This was 2 years ago….and time for a new adventure in the baby game.

Well, kids, this is where I stop for now (I gotta go to work…dang it). But more later, I promise.

OH, and as I go through and try to hash all of this out (with Cracked Eggs permission, of course) if anyone has any questions, let me know. As Kristen will tell you – I’m an open book. Just may take some time to get all the chapters out. 😉 Happy Wedsnesday!

Give me the chocolate and I will only slightly harm you.

A normal woman has her monthly “visit” every 28-30 days, give or take a few days.  I don’t unless it’s medically induced. That’s the wonderful part of having PCOS (please read that as sarcastically as you choose.)  I don’t remember exactly how old I was when I “started” but I think I was 11 or 12.  From the jump it was never normal.  I never knew when it was coming.  I lived in fear from the time I was 8 years old when my mother explained what she used those sticky pieces of paper for.  I would go to the bathroom in 2nd grade and check every day because I was petrified I would have blood coming from an unholy place and then I would have a baby.  I don’t know how I missed that middle step of what makes a baby.  I think my mom left that part out.  I do, however, remember being at my grandma’s house one hot summer day getting ready to go to my father’s house in a cute little outfit of white shorts and a tank top.  I got out of the lake after swimming and when I went to change I saw red…literally.  I figured then life was over.

Here I am, 16 years later…it pains me to say that by the way…wishing I had a normal, reliable, regular cycle.  It may make this baby thing a bit easier.  The thought never entered my mind that being so screwed up in the reproductive area would result in difficulty conceiving a baby.  Since we began our journey of trying to get pregnant, my doctors have tried everything from Clomid and Provera to what we are doing now which is just Letrozole (Femara) every month and then my cycle restarts like clock work if I am not pregnant.  It is not, however, the same every month.  I don’t know how many women are going through what I am going to explain but if there is just 1 person out there then I know I am not just nuts.
(This is where, if you are my brother, you stop reading unless you already have and then if your wife is reading this you should gross him out with all of the gross details because I like to watch him squirm.)

Ever since losing the baby in June I have had ridiculously odd flows.  I went from having a d&c to not bleeding much afterwards which the doctor told me was weird.  He put me on birth control to keep my cycles coming in normal fashion.  Once that started I again had really light periods.  Then 2 months later I believe, it was like Hiroshima hit my pants.  I woke up one morning covered in blood.  I honestly thought I was hemorrhaging.  That was when the life altering, doubling over in pain cramps started.  I figured maybe I would have one bad one then I would be ok.  Boy was I wrong!  They seem to go in their own little circle of hell.  I have a really light one then a horrible one then a “normal” one.  Life still revolves around my uterus even when I am not trying to fill it with life.  I carry ample protection.  When I cleaned out my purse today I counted 6 pads and 3 tampons.  That’s not normal either but I really don’t know what to expect from one moment to another.

This month when I found out I wasn’t pregnant but my uterine lining was really thick according to the ultrasound, I figured it would be ugly.  Like the nastiest fight scene in 300 and it would last for what seemed like an eternity and I would be a millionaire after my husband bought stock in Kotex.  Again I was wrong.  I have no clue what is going on in there but I will tell you that it is complete and utter BS.  My uterus is a bitch.  Not only do I feel like I didn’t get a good flush and fill but I feel like I got screwed for December.  I am concerned that because it’s not all out of there I will have no luck trying this month and I will have the worst cycle on Christmas.  Merry freakin’ Christmas baby, you aren’t gettin’ any.
I have talked about this with my fertility doctor.  He has a penis.  He only looks at vagina.  He thinks I am insane.  I think he is an ass…sometimes.  I think it may be time to revisit the subject with him but it concerns me that he will want to do another biopsy on my uterus.  If you have had one of those done, you know why I have a severe panic attack at even the mere thought of that procedure.  It feels like a red-hot poker stabbing you in your most precious of areas and then radiating pain all the way into your chest cavity.  This all happens in about 4 seconds but it’s enough to make you want to kick the doctor in the face while simultaneously vomiting on the person holding your hand.
So, we are back to square one.  We decided to go ahead with trying again this month with just the pills again.  January 1st our medical stuff restarts and we will be able to actually “afford” treatments…the ones that will probably land me in jail because I will become a raging lunatic on hormone shots every day for a month.

Anyway, that is my rant about my monthly.  As every other woman in the world does, I hate it.  I wish I could pull a Michelle Duggar and just keep on poppin’ out the babies and get TLC to follow me with a camera to show how amazing I am at being a mother to my 19 kids and counting…but I got screwed by genetics or probably by my fat.  Today I blame my fat.  I leave you with this amazing image.  It describes exactly what my house is like for approximately 3-7 days a month every month until I get so lucky as to get pregnant and STAY pregnant.  And then I will just keep on making that happen because I would rather push a watermelon through a tiny hole than bleed every month.  It’s late, I’m rambling, Good night.

Being thankful doesn’t mean I’m happy

But I am. Currently. So, before my body goes and confirms that I am in fact not pregnant this month and throws me into a temporary depression, I want to take a minute (or a few) to express how much I have to be grateful for. I will continue to be thankful, even through any sadness I may yet encounter. First know in life, I have been dealt a raw deal, many times. I was in an abusive marriage. I am clinically depressed. I struggled with self-injury. I have a laundry list of health issues. I was left by my fiancée months before our wedding, without warning. I have lost two babies and am waiting impatiently for my third pregnancy. I pray to God it ends with a healthy baby in my arms. You know what? Actually looking back at this hand in life that I feel I have unfortunately been dealt, it doesn’t seem so bad at all. I have a wealth of blessings that far out weigh the badness that has happened.

I believe that everything happens for a reason. I believe in God and that all things happen for good for those who believe in him. Not one of the issues I have listed above do I regret. Not one of those things can I not find the silver lining.

I was in an abusive marriage: because of this I joined the military. The military has given me adventure, friendship, education, health benefits, and life experience.

I am clinically depressed: I suffered a long time in silence before I was diagnosed and treated. This goes along with the self-injury issue. I have spent many hours in utter heartbreak and emotional struggles before I was prescribed meds and a therapist. I take away a sense of empathy. I feel that I have been given a better understanding of peoples emotions. I am willing to put my story out there in an attempt to let others know they are not alone. If my pain helps even one person,  I think it’s worth it.

My health issues: they range from hip problems to allergies to migraines to sleep issues to asthma etc. This one is a little harder to find the silver lining, but it could be worse.  I have all of my own parts and pieces. I am able to walk, see, touch, and take care of myself. I am able to experience life.

My fiancée left me: but I ended up with a man that couldn’t have been more perfect for me had I created him myself. Chris has been my rock. My source of laughter and joy. My cheerleader. My lover. My best friend.

I have lost two babies: without my love and eventually grief that came from Jordan and Mason, Lotus Be Infertility and Miscarriage Awareness Foundation would have never came about. Yes, it did also involve the loss of Kristen’s son at the same time. I feel if it had only been one of us- we wouldn’t have this same drive and passion for spreading the word on infertility and miscarriage and giving women hope and a place to share their stories.

There is a silver lining in all the bad I have experienced, but I said there is even more that I am grateful for. I have a full time job. I have a roof over my head. My bills are paid. I have a supportive and loving family and friends. I am co-owner of a wonderful company. I have gotten to travel. I have Chris’s two daughters that I love as if they were my own. I am alive. I am well. I have so many things that others would die to have. I have freedom of speech and religion. I have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I do not want for anything, except a child. I may not have it all, but I have so much. I am blessed; I am thankful, and at this moment, before my body betrays me again, I am happy.