Why You Should Be Happy Right Now!

I just wanted to take a moment right now to remind you of something terribly important. 

You are living. You are here right now, existing, soaking in light, metabolizing food, enjoying the soft glow of a screen. You are a breathing, intelligent person who can read. You could have been any of millions of different combinations of people, but you are you--beautiful, smart, and brave! Remember that humans are not incredibly fertile creatures (my RE told me so!), so it's simply a miracle that you exist. You are a miracle! Never forget that!

This is your life! You have this terrible/beautiful opportunity right now to make your mark on the world. You have a chance to leave your legacy behind--whether for good or bad. You have so much power at this moment in time! I once had a teacher who would always say, "Make it a good day to be you." You have that opportunity, right now, at this moment, and at every moment every day. You have the chance to make your life one that you can proudly look back at and think, "What a wild ride!"

You are an amazing creature, oozing with potential. Why don't you go and do something with it today? Today, right now, at this very moment, this is your sign. Get out there and leave your mark!

Reclaiming My Life from Infertility

Another month has come and gone and I am still not pregnant. I'm still daydreaming about names and wondering what my little babes will one day look like, but my body is not cooperating, and I'm sure frustrated about it. I do have some news, though, and I believe I'm getting closer to having answers.

Infertility was never something I thought I would struggle with. I always knew it was a possibility, but I never really thought it would be such an ordeal. I was always told that trying to get pregnant would be the "fun" part, but trying so hard, month after month, isn't really that fun at all. It's so much more than just intimate time with my husband. It's tracking my temperature every single morning to chart my basal body temperature. It's peeing on a stick every morning to figure out if my body even ovulates at all. It's taking thyroid medication every single morning in hopes that my thyroid is my body's only problem. It's taking prenatal vitamins even though I doubt it will matter that I remembered them at all. It's timing everything and hoping and praying that one of these months I'll be pleasantly surprised with a miracle. So far that has not been my experience. I had a friend crassly comment on one of my blog entries that my writing should be more about the trying portion of getting pregnant. Um, hello. This is what my entire life is, right now. This is how I try. If you want to read about the physiological process of conception, there are plenty of websites that are all about it. I try to keep this page pretty PG. We're all adults here, and we know how this stuff works. So... yeah. (PS- telling me to "just relax" is belittling and won't fix anything. For the first year that Joshua and I tried to conceive, I was very easygoing about the entire thing. I only started getting so anal about tracking when I knew there was a problem, over a year into trying. Tracking everything makes my doctor's appointments go easier and helps them and me see patterns and identify what's really happening with my body.)

Whew. Sorry about that tangent.

I had a couple of blood tests done last week, and I was pleasantly surprised with how awesome my phlebotomist was. She got the angle just right on my vein and my blood flowed right out! I had very minimal bruising, and my blood came out much faster than at my other blood draws. I was really stoked about it and haven't stopped gushing about her. My thyroid levels were checked to figure out if my medication was working, and my progesterone levels were checked too. Then I had the unpleasant task of waiting for my results...

It's funny, because I'd been waiting for weeks for Josh's results of his semen analysis, and then I started getting all of my (and his) results all at once. Of course, Josh's results weren't interpreted for us, so I had to Google all of his numbers, but they all looked to be within the normal range. That was a little frustrating because now I know for sure that the problem is something with my body, but it could still be basically anything. So annoying.

The next day, I received my thyroid results, which were back to normal! Woohoo! I don't know if that will get me pregnant, but it will have me feeling better. In fact, I haven't noticed a huge change with my energy levels, but I am in a much better mood most of the time. Before going on Levothyroxine Sodium, I was very moody most of the time (hehe). I picked fights with my husband often and often felt and acted irrationally angry over small things. I don't know why I did those things. I don't feel so angry anymore, and I'm ashamed that I was upset as often as I was. I really don't understand hormones sometimes. Other than that, I don't feel much different with my medication. I do have an easier time waking up in the morning, so that's something. Other than that, I feel mostly the same as I did before.

After getting my thyroid results back, I was hopeful that everything was under control. Soon after, however, I received news that my progesterone levels weren't doing so hot. I really hadn't done a ton of research about low progesterone levels, so I began educating myself. The funny thing is that so many of the symptoms are things I've been experiencing. I hadn't even connected that my symptoms were linked to low progesterone levels. I'm not going to get into all of the symptoms (they are all over online), but as of right now I'm kind of at a loss as far as where to go from here. I wasn't expecting low progesterone. I was kind of just hoping that my thyroid was my only issue. At least we're figuring this out though, right?

My suspicion is that my body ovulates every month but that, after ovulation, it doesn't produce the amount of progesterone that it should. Because of tracking my temperature each day, I can see that my temperature dips and then rises, indicative of ovulation, but it doesn't stay as high as it should. This results in too thin of a lining of my uterus, making implantation impossible. So even if I am ovulating and Josh's sperm reaches my egg and fertilizes it, my body has nowhere to put it and discards it. If this is the case, hormone therapy might be my answer. I'll have to up my intake of progesterone after ovulation each month and hope that it's enough to sustain life. Then I will likely have to continue taking progesterone at least until the first trimester is over (because at that point the placenta creates progesterone of its own and won't need any outside help). I have read about people combining this type of hormone therapy with Clomid, but I'm not sure why, since Clomid can have side effects (such as thinning the lining of the uterus) that are the opposite of what I need. I wrote my doctor a message tonight, asking him where we go from here, and I'm looking forward to hearing back from him. I really don't know what to do at this point. I hope that progesterone medication will help me. If I can get pregnant that way, we'll have solved the puzzle of my infertility.

Either way, I'm done sitting around. I'm back to working out and eating healthier and not giving up on me. I've been too depressed for too long about this, putting my life on hold, waiting for the ever-evasive motherhoood to creep up on me, and I'm ready to take control of my life again. If I end up getting pregnant, that would be great. If I end up adopting, that would be wonderful. And if neither of those things end up happening? Well, I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. In the meantime, I'm ready to reclaim my life back from infertility. I'm taking control and waking up from this dazed state. And it feels good.

Rest in Peace, Sweet Friend

When I moved in December, it was really hard on me. I'm now located almost an hour from my closest family member, I don't have money to do the things I like to do, and I've felt isolated and alone. It has also been a huge adjustment to move from the big city where I've been for the past eight years and go back to a small town.

Shortly after our move, I befriended the wives of a few of my husband's co-workers. These ladies were really nice to me, but they tended to gossip about pretty much everyone else. There was another co-worker's wife who I was explicitly told not to befriend because she was "creepy" and a "stalker." Well, what can I say? I'm a rebel.

A few weeks or months later (time kind of blurs when you're an adult), this "creepy" lady came to a girls' night out that I attended with some of the ladies in the town. And you know what? She was the friendliest out of all of the ladies there. She and I talked almost the whole time about all different kinds of things, and I really felt like we had a good relationship growing. We didn't exchange phone numbers, but I found her on Facebook not too long after, and I continued to be fond of her. She talked about more than the goings on of people in town. We talked about our pasts and how we both grew up in small towns, and how we've both adapted to being police officers' wives. We talked about hopes and dreams and the future. That night, I left with the distinct impression that I really liked this girl and that, against advice, we were going to be friends.

In April, I graduated college, and this girl sent me a sweet Facebook message congratulating me and saying that we really needed to go out some night to celebrate. I readily agreed, but we never got around to it. Life, as always, got in the way. Sometimes I wish it would just move over and let me actually live.

A few weeks ago, my mother was visiting and we went to watch my friend and her husband go skydiving. This was her husband's passion, and my friend had picked it up not too long before. She had quickly fallen in love with it, and she was training to jump on her own. I've always been too chicken to jump myself, but I thought my friend was so brave for learning how. My friend invited me to go hiking this summer with her and her adorable little boys. I love hiking, and I agreed that we should go. I really wish we had.

Yesterday, that beautiful, sweet, friendly girl passed away while skydiving with her husband. The more I learn about the accident, the worse it makes me feel. I wish we had gotten to do more together while my friend was here. I loved her genuine personality so much. I appreciated how friendly she was and how she always made me feel comfortable around her. I feel so sad for her family members left behind. I can't imagine what they're going through right now.

But you know what I don't feel bad about? I will never regret being friendly to that girl. I will never feel guilty for speaking too highly of her. I will never feel bad that I reached out and made a friend out of her. I wish we could have gotten to know each other better, but she was one of my favorite people here in my new town, and I'm really going to miss her. And I'm glad that I reached out and didn't listen when people told me not to be her friend. Because kindness always matters.

Friends, I know that there are people you're told not to like. I know that your "friends" have reasons to bully and talk badly about others. But if you're a leader and you make a friend out of that "creepy" girl who really isn't creepy at all, you'll never regret it. You never know what's going to happen to your friends or loved ones, so you might as well make the most of the time you have together. Reach out and be a friend to the ostracized. Be a companion to the lonely. Smile at the stranger. I have many things in my life that I regret, but one thing I never will is being kind to that sweet, smiling girl. Rest in peace, sweet friend.

The Peace of Letting Go

 

It's kind of funny how you can forget so many things in life, but once you start reminiscing, emotions can come back with such clarity that it can make you doubt that you ever truly forgot them.

That's kind of what's been happening with me lately. I've had so many strong, negative emotions eating at me for so long that I had almost forgotten they were there. Talking about old memories definitely brings up those old emotions fast! The other night, I was in a bad place, trying to explain to my Joshua that he doesn't know how it feels to be the black sheep, or how it feels to never measure up to his siblings just because of which parent he acts more like or because of the birth order of his family. I tried to explain the years of frustration and pain that I've experienced because I lived a childhood of regret. But he gets it, just like he always gets me. We had a moment (or several), and he was able to reach out to me in a way that I never even realized I needed.

The funny thing is, all this time, I've thought I was angry. And maybe I was, to some extent. But, in reality, I was hurt more than anything else. Hurt by being left. Hurt by perceived preferential treatment of my siblings. Hurt by unkind words. Hurt by being ignored and criticized and forgotten. I realized that the hurt was really what has caused me to build these sarcastic, angry walls. I was afraid of being vulnerable and being hurt again. I was afraid to let anyone hurt me.

This has been true in so many aspects of my life. It probably explains at least part of why I'm such a crappy friend. A lazy lover. A distant daughter. If I don't put myself on the line, then nobody's actions can hurt me, right? But, in the process, I've internalized those feelings of anger and hurt and kept them with me for years and years. Unknowingly, I've allowed those negative feelings to shape the decisions I've made and the reactions I've had. And I've felt so out of control because I haven't been the one calling the shots; I've been letting those negative emotions take over. And a few days ago, I decided to do a funny thing: I let them go.

The point of life isn't to go around holding grudges. My purpose doesn't revolve around regret and hurt. One day, we will all be judged. And when that day comes, I really don't want to judged by the jerk (me) judging me the way I've done it so many times to others. I want to be judged as the girl who overcame struggles and held out her hand to help others. I want to be remembered as the girl who defended and befriended the nerdy kid on the football team because the other football players were rude to him. I want to be remembered as the girl who "dated" a boy for about five minutes in eighth grade because he felt unpopular and thought he would never get a girlfriend because of his love of math and science. I want to be judged as the girl who holds the door open for moms with strollers and lets cars merge in front of her on the interstate and never gives up on her sister.

I'm done being angry and hurt. I'm done complaining and being critical. At least, I'm trying. And you know what? Letting go feels pretty good! In the past few days, I've slept better, my body feels lighter (somehow), and I feel so much more at peace with myself than I have in a long time. I know that this will be a struggle at times, and I know that I can't keep away those feelings forever, but the past is totally over, and why should I be punishing my loved ones for doing what they thought was best at the time? More so, why should I be punishing myself and depriving myself of the peace and happiness that I deserve just as much as anyone else? Is this what we call "growing up?" Is this what it feels like? Because I think I kind of like it.