A Letter to My 3rd Trimester Body

I feel a bit bad writing this to you since we were on such good terms the past couple months.  Yes, I have finally forgiven you for the issues from 1^st trimester.  You finally understood that nausea all day long was just not working.  Puking to every little smell that didn’t please you was putting a serious cramp in my day.  I never thought I’d say that I now enjoy changing my son’s poopy diapers just for the fact that I don’t have to chuck my breakfast into the waste basket while doing it.  So, I really tried to give you the benefit of the doubt thinking we were on better terms with one another.  But, here we are again.  And I have some serious issues to discuss with you…

I think you have gone overboard with the “glow” everyone talks about one having during pregnancy.  You have taken it way too literally.  To “glow” does not mean sweat out of every pore in your body.  Under boob sweat is not attractive.  I will leave it at that.

Now, what is going on with the vagina pain?  Seriously.  I feel like someone has hit me with a baseball bat straight to the groin.  You have reduced me to having to hold on to the ledge of my dresser just to put my underwear on in the morning.  My pride is gone—especially when my husband has to help.   

I am drained.  You have made me think sitting on the couch all day is the only way to survive.  Yet, that is just not a viable option.   Please give me some energy back.  It feels like a huge triumph just to get the kitchen cleaned.   I know you would like me to sleep all day long.  That would be just dandy, huh? Well life goes on and I need you to buck up and get moving!

And how? Just how do you justify yourself making me feel exhausted all day long, yet once night comes, insomnia kicks in?!  I have gone to great lengths to make you feel comfortable.  I have taken up most of the king size bed that I share with my husband for you.  I have bought a very expensive pillow just for you.   I have my own blanket at night since you can’t make up your mind whether you are cold or hot, or dripping with sweat… all for you.  I have kept the “throw” pillows on the bed just so I can lay in more of an incline so I can breathe better for you.   So, why then do you feel the need to keep me up half the night?  I lay looking at the clock watching the hours go by because I am so uncomfortable.  And, then.  Say I do FINALLY get comfortable, or at a place I think will give me the rest I need, YOU HAVE TO GO PEE!  Can’t a woman catch a break!  These bathroom trips are seriously getting excessive.   

 

Ahhh… the bathroom.  We have become good friends.  Now, nearing the end of this pregnancy, I make constant trips, which are usually all teasers.  Please, just wait a bit for when the bladder is actually full.  Do not be deceived by the little baby pressing on it. 

Can we talk about diet for a second?  Don’t you know that vegetables, fruit and protein are all things you need to be healthy and keep that baby healthy?  Then why?  Why do you crave sugar and carbs!?  The grocery store has been a serious challenge.  I would like to have some sort of will power when I go, yet it’s like you put a trance over me.  I don’t know how you do it, but somehow those chocolate muffins and popsicles sneak their way into the cart.  I know you are behind this!  Please. I am nearing the end.  My maternity clothes don’t even fit!  My husband’s shirts don’t cover this belly.  Can you just crave some dang broccoli?

 

And lastly, all these physical ailments have definitely put me in that category of “grump”.  I try so hard to be pleasant.  My husband constantly asks me, “What’s wrong”.  I know he’s just trying to show he cares, but even the very question makes me cringe.  I respond with various answers each time, trying not to make a big deal, but this is what I’d really like to say...

"What do you think is wrong? You idiot. Don’t you see this huge watermelon I’m carrying around? How would you like to walk around with what feels like a giant bowling ball attached to your abdomen all day? I’m pregnant!  And that means a whole heck of a lot of things that I don’t feel like explaining to you!” 

So, in the efforts to NOT EVER say that to my husband, and save my marriage, let’s start to work together on this a bit.

So here’s my final plea:  Can you please ease up on all these symptoms?  We are almost there.  The home stretch.  I do not doubt the miracle you are making.  And I know it’s worth every ache and pain you present to me.  But, I’m begging you.  I can’t take much more of this.  Focus on keeping that baby healthy and try, just try, to help a mama out!  Thank you for listening. I really think together we can make some positive changes!

Wait.  What’s that?  You’re tired? Tired of trying to remember certain words to type that usually come to you so simply?

Yea. Ok, let’s go.  I think there’s a place on the couch to rest and a chocolate muffin with your name on it. 

Our Mini-Babymoon!

Before the arrival of your new bundle of joy, the new trend is to have a "Babymoon".  Really, it's just a fancy way of saying, "A-Weekend-Get-Away-Before-Total-Chaos-Ensues".  It's a chance for Mom and Dad to relax and have some time together before their lives are forever changed by their new miracle. 

My husband and I thought this sounded fantastic! A weekend just to ourselves? With no child? Eating together, relaxing together, talking about things other than our kid?  Sign us up!  And, my parents even offered to come watch our son.  Well, life got in the way and we were running out of options for weekends.  So, our dream babymoon weekend turned into a half-day at the spa...and we were not complaining one bit.

You see, when life changed with children, time also changed.  Time became more valuable.  Very valuable.

Before children, I was liberal with my time.  Slept in, binged watched episodes on Netflix, full days of shopping, long dinners out to eat... I never thought about how long I would be doing various activities.  I didn't worry about when my child would wake up, or how much more money I'd have to pay the babysitter, time was not an issue.

So, with time being a factor, we were able to make a half-day at a spa work for us. We were also on a limited budget, so we liked the idea of spending our money on particular luxuries instead of on time (for instance, a 2-night hotel stay). 

We woke up at 8 a.m. (even before my son awoke) and got ready for our spa day. My husband wasn't too excited since it was a work day for him and couldn't seem to get the stress of work off his mind.  He also didn't know how nice of a place we were actually going to...

Ponte Vedra Inn is located in Ponte Vedra, Florida.  Just trust me when I say it's one of the nicest places I think anyone could go for a vacation or spa visit. 



Outside the Spa.  35 weeks pregnant.

 

We arrived at 8:40 a.m. where we were shown our respective locker rooms to put our belongings in and changed into our provided robes and slippers.  Brett and I met each other outside of the bathrooms and we were like giddy school children awaiting a surprise.

Secretly taking a selfie in my robe since phones were forbidden. =/

 

At 9:00 a.m. we were already sitting in massage chairs and getting pedicures (Brett's first pedicure).  It was fabulous to relax and be pampered together.  Rarely do we do get to do things like this as a couple.

The rest of the day followed with hanging out in the steam room, Jacuzzi (Brett did at least, I relaxed in the meditation room and read a magazine), lunch poolside, drinks poolside, and a maternity massage for me.  We also enjoyed the pool since it was a hot summer day.  And when I say we, I really mean me.  Being 35 weeks pregnant, I felt amazing and weightless in that pool!

My sexy hubby poolside

 

 drinking cucumber mint infused water

 

We left the spa spending a pretty penny, but it was so worth it! We left around 2:00 p.m. and I have to say, we were both more relaxed than we had been in a long time.  Brett was also able to forget about work for a while.  We had the time to just be husband and wife again.   

Before children, I don't think I would have appreciated a 5-hour vacation. I don't think I would have called that a vacation at all.  But, when you're a stay-at-home-mom with no family in town to watch your children on a normal basis, a 5 hour get-away is glorious! We didn't even have to pay for a babysitter!  Grandparents are awesome!

picture my dad sent us while we were at the spa. =)

Brett and I both talked about how those 5 hours rejuvenated us - our bodies, our minds, our relationship.  It was special.  Of course we would have taken a full weekend get-away, but we considered it time and money well spent.  The babymoon was a success.  Now bring on the baby! =)

The "Let It Ride" Mentality

"Get that DAMN thing out of my room!" I screamed at my older sister when I was around 9 years old about a toy I didn't want her to put in my room.  She gasped and yelled to our mom in the other room, "MoOOOom, Dianna just used a cuss word!"

I immediately started bawling my eyes out. I felt horrible.  I hated breaking the rules, and I hated even more having my mother upset with me.  I crawled into my bed and stuffed my head between my knees embarrassed at the events that just occurred.  My mother didn't even punish me, but consoled me as I cried on the bed.  Not a normal disciplinary action for a parent to have, but I was really shaken up. 

Shy as a young girl, I never was the one to break the mold.  I tended to stay within the lines. I was a rule follower.  As an adult, my rule following turned more into being overly cautious or worse, a lack of spontaneity.  My husband would roll his eyes at some of the things I worried about that the "average" person wouldn't think twice about. 

We were on our way to the beach.  It was packed.  There were no parking spots in sight.  My husband thought to park at our old place and walk the block to the beach.  I responded with, "That's ILLEGAL, we don't live there anymore."  He tends to laugh at me when I say this because I emphasize the word where my eyes get real big and my voice gets high-pitched like a little girl.  Needless to say, we drove around another 10 minutes until a spot opened up, because, of course, parking in our old apartment complex is, no doubt,  ILLEEEEEEGAL!
 
Being a first-time parent hasn't helped the situation.  Within my son's first year of life, I would definitely have classified myself as an overly protective parent.  I was just doing innately what I felt was right. I even wrote about it here, I Can Have a Life, And a Baby, Too!

But now as my son enters toddlerdom, (is that a word?) a different side of me has returned.  I say returned because there have been times in my life where I have, say, let my hair down. This care-free spontaneous side was most prevalent during my college years.  And, of course it was! My only worry was making it to class on time in the morning!  I didn't have the worries of finances, jobs, future planning, house-tending, and baby-caring that I do now.  I learned to love life, live a little, and maybe break a few rules along the way.

A close sorority sister even wrote me a letter one time and told me how she loved my life's mantra, which she claimed I answered life's dilemma's with the phase, "let it ride."  (What?  I said this hippy, throw-caution-to-the-wind saying, and said it enough that she took notice? ) She continued to tell me another time how she enjoyed my care-free spirit in which I didn't let things "ruffle my feathers".  I just shook my head up and down slowly taking full credit of this life-view, "oh yeah, that's my motto, LET IT RIDE!"  That was one of the best compliments anyone had ever given me.

So why is this "let it ride" mentality coming to light again?   For one thing, I am much more comfortable in my skin as a mom.  I understand that there are many different parenting styles (no one right answer) for the many different types of children.  Although I may be knocked down, confused, scared, or overwhelmed as a parent, I will never cease to give my children the best care I can.  And, now that my little one has become a toddler, his care-free nature of just being a kid has rubbed off on me.  And it's been really, really, refreshing. 

For instance...

Huge fistful's of sand in his mouth? Sure, why not?

Or grapes covered in the sand for a snack? Yuummmy!

Pacifier fell on the ground? 5 second rule.

Throwing dirt out of my flower pots? I'll buy more. 

Baby Poop on the back porch? Hose it off.  (You have to be a parent, I think, to understand this one.)

Playing in the fountain at the zoo because the splash pad is full of big kids? A little reclaimed water has never hurt anyone.  ;) 

Going into Dillard's to buy socks for Daddy but have a spontaneous Hide-And-Go-Seek game in the clothes with my son instead?  Total Mommy Win.  Sorry sales clerk.


I told me husband a couple days ago how I've really started to feel more comfortable when it comes to raising Carson.  Of course I will instill discipline and respect, but I want to be the mom that can forget responsibilities for a minute, or a time-schedule, or even proper etiquette sometimes for the chance to make fun, lasting memories with my children.  This is my one life. 

I'm excited and encouraged to see this side of me blossom.  I look to the future with a full heart and smile as I know I will, "let it ride" more often. 

Would You End Your Life to Save Your Child's? A Glimpse into a Parent's Love.

I feel like the English language really fell short in relation to the word, "love".  Sitting here, trying to describe just how much I love my 1-year-old child, the word, love, just seems to fall flat. LOVE.  It doesn't have the power, the oomph, the extraordinary element that I'm going for to truly describe my love for my son.  It's like going and seeing the most beautiful place on earth and you want to take a picture of it to capture the moment to show to your friends, yet, when you view the picture, it in NO WAY gives the landscape justice.  You just have to go and see it for yourself.  In the same way, I could try to explain to you a mother's love, yet, the only way you will truly get it, is to experience it yourself.  So in my best efforts to explain to you how much I love my child -- a love I've never felt before-- I am most likely going to fall short.  I do somewhat blame it on our English language and society.  We love to overuse or wrongly use this word in SO many ways...



Yes, my son gets that excited over a $10 Slip N' Slide!  

I mean, there is the most popular way in which we love our family, our parents, our spouses, our dogs... but even on a daily basis, I find myself having an attachment or feeling towards certain things that go beyond the word, like, and therefore I would say I love them:

I love my $4 bronzer from Walmart
I love the novel, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
I love Pad Thai
I love an ice-cold Diet Coke
I love receiving a hand-written card in the mail

I do.  I LOVE these things.  And our stupid language couldn't find other words to explain that feeling besides using that particular word. 

So, you see my predicament.  Because our English language overuses or lacks a variety of other words that would be a perfect synonym for which I LOVE those things, it's making it very difficult for me to express to you the new love I have for my 1-year-old son and my other son growing inside me without leaving you feeling emotionless or stagnant to that word.

HOW DO I TELL YOU!?!?

It's LOVE, LOVE, LOVE, LOVE times a million!

Love seeing that face as our son opens his presents on Christmas morning!

So in my efforts of trying to describe the indescribable, I've added a word in front of it:

Selfless Love. 

My definition:  A love that puts others before yourself. A love that continually gives without contingency. 

That is how I feel about my son and my other son inside me.  Still no affect?

How 'bout I try to explain it to you through a story...

I remember a conversation with my husband when I was pregnant with my first son:

He said something along the lines of," You know, if something happens where we have to pick between you or the baby during delivery, I want you to live."

I said, "Yea, I agree."

It wasn't a long conversation.  But it was apparent that we would choose my life over the baby's.  Of course, we didn't like the conversation and it gave us both a wave of sadness, but that was our reality.  My husband couldn't imagine life without me, and I couldn't imagine leaving this earth quite yet.  Judge all you want, that was our truth. 

Remember me trying to describe to you this selfless love thing...well...

WOAH!  Would I have made the biggest mistake!  Now that I have met my little guy and know the love I have for him, I think back to that conversation and wonder who that woman was!  I would choose my son a million times over before keeping my life.  I've lived my life.  (Yes, of course I'd like more time, but I know there is a heaven waiting for me.  I will be okay.)  Just don't end my son's life!  He has a full life ahead of him!  Thank God we never even came close to that decision because we would have made the wrong one. 

Experiencing the sea life on Daddy's boat for the first time

  

Now that I am pregnant with baby #2, there is NO doubt in my mind that I would do everything in my power to save my child before saving my own life.  I know I am going to have that same love for my next child that I have for my first son.  So, if my husband and I were to repeat the same conversation this go around, my answer would be quite different.  Choose the baby over me. 

Baby Boy #2 with me at my Best Friend's Wedding

So, hopefully this can give you a glimpse into a parent's love.  I have learned what it means to truly love selflessly.  To not only love someone as much as I love myself, but I love someone more than myself.  I would give my life to save theirs. 

I guess Jesus knew a thing or two about what he was talking about, because he couldn't have said it better than in the 15th chapter of John:

"My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.  Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends."

Jesus died for me.  He chose me over himself that I may have life.  Like I said, I wouldn't hesitate to end my life for my sons'.  And, of a course, its also a healthy reminder to have this "selfless love" for others!

Now, that is love.  And, if you feel I have failed in my explanation of a parent's love, just like the picture of the beautiful landscape, you just have to go experience it for yourself.



Our son's 1st Birthday. Baby #2 in the belly!

We Know the Gender!

My husband and I gave our final guesses last night before we went to bed...

"Girl." My husband says.

"Boy." I say.

Secretly, I think we both said the gender we were both a bit scared of having. Scared of the unknown, you could say.  He grew up with one brother and I grew up with one sister. What you know is always easier.   He knows boys...and I know girls...

And now I know boys, too. We have a ball-throwing, furniture-moving, dirt-grabbing vivacious little one-year-old boy who is going to be a big brother in September.

So, I guess it's going to be all dirt and dump trucks 'round here because...

We are having another boy!

Brett and I drove separately to the OBGYN this morning and on our way out I looked at him while laughing and said, "I guess I'm going to need to toughen up! All boys in the house!"

I drove home thinking about what my future is going to look like with two boys: weekends filled with backyard dirt piles and bugs in jars, sports games and wrestling, loud farts and burps.

I even think to when they get older and meet girls. (My heartbeat spikes a bit.) I can't imagine my babies growing up and liking girls!  How do I talk to boys about stuff like that? And then my anxiety lessens as I realize they have an amazing dad as a God-fearing, loving man to look up to! 

I'm so excited for our future and our boy-filled home!

I guess I should finally learn how to rig a fishing pole...Brett's been bugging me to learn. ;)

 

 

Are Toys Really Necessary?

Our house is full of toys.  I told myself that I never wanted our living room to look like a gigantic playroom, but somehow the coffee table moved in front of the fireplace for more play room, and toys line the rug in the middle of floor, all for the joy of our little baby to play! Well, I've started to notice that many of the toys seem to sit collecting dust while many other things in the house are getting played with quite often.  My son enjoys many things that are well, flat out, not toys. 

Here's a few of his favorite "non-toy toys":

1.  Doors.

 

 

Although my son hasn't mastered door opening (I know it's coming soon!) he loves to shut them.  And since he can't open them quite yet on his own, I am right there to open them again for him, then he closes, then I open, then he closes...you get the idea. Maybe monotonous, but he loves it! He especially loves when I scare the poo poo of out him by getting really low to the ground like him and have my face right in the door as I open it.  I usually proceed with a "Boo" or "I'm Gonna Getcha!" in which he jumps, giggles, and shuts the door.  And we start the process all over again. 


2.  Pots and Pans. 

(I didn't have a pic of Carson in the kitchen with pots

and pans, but he loves the decorative pot in our bedroom. 

I tend to find lots of funny, random things inside.)

 

 

We have child safety locks on all our bottom cabinets in the kitchen except for the ones that hold the pots and pans, on purpose!  Carson loves to open the cabinets and pull out everything inside banging the pots and pans and pushing them all over the tile floor.  It's awesome.  He's entertained.  He's safe.  He's in my sight.  And, I can cook dinner!  Probably the best "non-toy toy"!


3.  Clothes - Especially Socks. 

 

 

When I need to fold the laundry, I grab the warm clothes from the dryer and dump them in the middle of the floor of our living room.  Carson thinks it is so fun to jump on all the warm clothes and cuddle with them.  He also likes to throw the clothes all around the room. (It's not as cute once I've folded the clothes, but I've smartened up and now place the folded clothes on top of the couch out of his reach.)  He also likes sock balls.  I didn't always call them "sock balls", but since Carson loves balls and loves to throw balls, folded socks now become "balls" as well.  We've had many sock ball throwing sessions!


4.  The Remote Control. 

 

 

Carson loves to play with the remote, push the buttons and see them light up.  I also think he likes it so much because he sees it in his mommy and daddy's hands as well.  He also knows to point it at the T.V. (I think that's a bit of a hint that we watch too much television).  Anyway, I smartened up here too, because giving my child the remote during my favorite recorded show all for him to turn it to divorce court or "On-Demand" gets a bit frustrating. So, I took an old remote, removed the batteries, and let the little kid go nuts!


5. Toilet Paper. 

 

 

My son is active, very active.  So when I have to use the bathroom, I take him with me.  I don't trust him in the living room or bedroom by himself, so we take bathroom breaks.  He has learned that the toilet paper roll and the extra rolls are quite fun to pull apart.  This "toy" could get quite pricey if you think I would just throw away the mess once he was done.  Nope, I definitely fold it up and place it on the counter to use when I need it.  The things we do...


It's interesting to try to look at life through my one-year-old's eyes.  He wakes up each day ready to explore and learn something new.  He views each "toy" as something to figure out.  The sounds, the feel, unfortunately the taste, too, of many things he shouldn't... But the world is there, waiting for him to enjoy and discover it!  Everything is a "toy".  I truly treasure his innocence and playfulness toward life, and to his toys, and of course to his non-toy toys, too!

"Be Quick to Listen, Slow to Speak, and Slow to Become Angry"

As my husband's and my 3rd wedding anniversary approaches, (tomorrow! - I need to go buy a card!) I can't help but reflect on the past 3 years of our marriage.  So many times I catch myself saying to my husband,

"I am the luckiest woman on earth.  How did I find someone as great as you?"

My relationship with Brett has always come easy.  From our first flirty tennis date in 2007, we were infatuated with each other.  We never had to work or wonder about our relationship. Once, when we were in college and only dating a couple of months, we both had big study nights ahead of us.  We didn't necessarily have time to hang out, but Brett found himself at my sorority house just wanting to see me.  I, too, wanted to see him.  We picked up study snacks; you know, Gatorades, Red Bulls, pretzels, chocolate... the diet of all late-night college students.  We were just two kids without a care in the world.  Being in each other's presence was always enough.  It never mattered what we were doing, as long as we were together. 

Living together also came easy.  I  remember talking to other couples and wasn't able to relate to the annoyance or difficulty that came with living with the opposite sex for the first time.  Our first place together was probably all of 600 sq. feet and we couldn't have been happier.   Even with my "a little bit less than perfect clean house"  and his particularity with things in certain places, everything just fell into place.  Livin' was easy. Our marriage, our jobs... life was good.

Life is still good. But as I look at our relationship this past year, for the first time, Brett and I have had to "work" on our relationship. The stress of his job has increased, finances have been tighter with only one income, and we do not have near enough alone time with a baby in the house. 

We've found ourselves bickering and fighting more than I think we both would like to admit.

Brett and I have always been good about settling our disagreements.  We talk.  We communicate.  We let each other know our feelings -- the good, the bad, and the ugly.  I think lately, we still talk, we still communicate, yet the delivery in which we let each other know our differences has been less than desirable. 

Lately, I have been deeply studying the Book of James.  My lovely Bible Study women and I have picked a study that solely goes through this particular book of the Bible pretty much verse-by-verse.  James has always been my favorite book, with its analogies and life application; it's an English Teacher's dream!  Being someone that has grown up knowing God and studying his Word, I have many times become immune to what the Bible tells me.  This time, I have been craving for God to speak to me.  I didn't want this to be another study that I can just add to my collection. "Please, God, let these words speak to me and change my heart." Well, He heard me.  A verse that I even have memorized jumped out at me and said: 

"Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires." James 1:19 

So I reflect on my own actions lately with my husband according to this verse:

1. Quick to Listen.  So, this first means shutting up.  Don't have the first word...or the last.  Just listen.  Listen without the preparation of what I am going to say next.  Listen and understand his side, his opinions, his heart.

2. Slow to speak.  When I first read this, I thought, okay, more listening. Got it.  But as I realized the type of writer James, brother of Jesus, is, I knew that he is so intentional with each of his words.   He wouldn't repeat himself in this way.  Take note, Dianna, what is he saying?  For lack of a better analogy, I think of word vomit.  Word vomit is saying things without even thinking about what you want to say before it comes out of your mouth.  Like vomit, it just has its way of spewing out of you probably not in the most lovely of ways.  Instead, James wants me to be wise with my words.  I need to realize that every word I say can have a lasting effect. 

3. Slow to become angry.  This one hit home.  I wouldn't say I am angry, but I'm definitely moody.  Come on, I'm pregnant!  Can't I be exempt from this one?   Life can give someone all sorts of reasons to be nasty to other people, not feeling well, stressed, tired, anxiety, sadness... it is how we deal with these certain emotions that come our way that show our true colors. 

My colors haven't been the prettiest lately toward my husband. Pregnancy is not an excuse.

Regardless of what life throws at us (and I think we've had it pretty good; my family is showered with blessings), we are called to love one another.  James had this figured out.  He didn't say only certain people should do this.  He called EVERYONE to action.  This is a command for ALL people. Even pregnant people. ;)

One of the reasons I love Brett so much is his genuine heart.  He cares to know me and my feelings.  He's not too "manly" to pray or show his feelings as well.  We've even been praying more together.  I notice when it's not just the two of us, but we include God in our relationship, it seems to become easy again. We try to embody what James had to say.

As I pray this week, I pray that my son (and my growing lil' baby in my belly) also finds God's word.  I pray that Brett and I teach them from a young age what it means to go to God for guidance in their lives. 

Happy Anniversary, Babe. I am so thankful and blessed to have you as my husband. 

"I am the luckiest girl in the world". 

I Used IVF for My First Child and Then Got Pregnant Naturally

"You have a 0% chance of conceiving a baby naturally," said my OBGYN to me after my second attempt at a fallopian tubal dye study. 

Punch in stomach.

Can't Breath.

Heartache. 

With my husband by my side we left the small surgery center in complete shock. 

I remember somewhat holding it together until we reached the car.  I opened the passenger door, sat down, put my hands over my face and bawled and bawled and bawled.  We both were not prepared for this news. 

This isn't supposed to happen to me! I'm meant to be a mom.  I have to have my own baby!  Will I ever have children?  Will my husband resent me?  I felt embarrassed.  I know that's a weird feeling to have, but I was.  At that moment, I felt like I was somehow less of a woman.

A couple months earlier I was diagnosed with endometriosis.  So I was informed that infertility was a possibility, but of course everyone always thinks, "not me".  

If you are wondering what endometriosis is, here's the short version:

Every time I have my period I have displaced tissue that should normally be in the uterus break down and bleed in other parts of my body.  Eventually it causes scar tissue throughout the pelvic region.  It can cause severe pain during the menstrual cycle, pain in the lower abdomen, and pain during intercourse.  I will have endometriosis as long as I have a period.

I ended up having laparoscopic surgery to confirm the endometriosis and see how severe it was in my body.  It was mainly in my ovaries, cervix, and fallopian tubes.  During this procedure, the first fallopian tubal dye study was attempted to see if the tubes were blocked with scar tissue. The dye did not successfully move through the tubes. 

 After hearing the devastating news, my OBGYN decided to give me a bit more hope and do the tubal dye study one more time just in case my body didn't accept the fluid because it was under stress with the surgery.  

Since this procedure was minimally invasive, I was able to watch the procedure on a computer screen while it was happening.

I remember the nurse saying, "It's really cool; you will be able to see the dye flow through the tubes like a maze."

Dye went in, and there was no movement.  It just stopped.  Stupid nurse.  Why would she say that?

(picture obtained from asrm.org)

Up to this point I seriously did not think anything would go wrong.  I thought I would complete the tests, see all was good, and keep going on with life.  Well, this was definitely a life-changer.  To hear the news I could not conceive naturally was absolutely devastating. 

So, there my husband and I stood.  Newlyweds.  Children not even on the horizon.  And I was told my only chance for having children would be through in vitro fertilization. 

A little anatomy lesson for you:  The fallopian tubes are mandatory in order to make a baby.  During ovulation, one egg is dropped through one of the fallopian tubes.  From there, it is able to be fertilized. Therefore, IVF would specifically place the fertilized egg inside my uterus bypassing the tubes altogether. 

So, after pitying myself for about a month.  I decided to keep going. I would not let this get the best of me. I had options and I needed to stay positive. 

Although my husband and I weren't quite on board with having a baby yet, we went ahead and made an appointment with the fertility doctor. 

After talking through our options and money, we decided to try naturally for a couple months.  We knew it was a long-shot but we had to at least try the natural course for having a baby. 

(Yes, we started preparing to make a baby even before we were ready.  Is anyone truly ever ready?  I pushed my husband a bit more than he wanted to be pushed, but I couldn't imagine life without a baby. I also knew time was on my side since I am young.  As a couple, we decided we didn't want to look back and say, "We should have tried earlier.")


We had no luck with trying naturally.  But, it did justify us taking the next step... and a big one that was!  We decided to go through with in vitro fertilization.

Since there are many doctor appointments during the IVF process, we decided to start the process while I was on summer break (one benefit of being a teacher). 

Although I have tried to block out the specifics of those two months, let me give you an idea of what I went through:

I was on lots of hormones.  The goal is to release more than the normal one egg during ovulation so there are more eggs to pick from to fertilize.  Hints A LOT of HORMONES to make more eggs!

(My schedule of hormone injections.

 We had to be consistent every day with the timing of injections.)

I really got used to giving blood.  I had to give my vitals and blood work every week.  My husband also had to give me shots about twice a day.  I never watched.  I would just prepare myself, relax my body, close me eyes, and wait for it to be over.  He hated hurting me, but he was awesome.  He was my rock through all of it. 

I remember the first shots I had to do were in my lower abdomen.  The doctor put two big "x marks the spot" X's on each side of my abdomen so my husband knew where to inject the hormones.  I remember, at times, there wasn't any place to insert the needle that didn't hurt since I had bruises from all my previous shots.

Then, came the big guys! I had to take shots in my lower back/upper butt.  You should have seen the size of those needles!  My husband had to inject a thick liquid into my bare ass! Talk about, OUCH!  The liquid was so thick it took forever to inject!

Along with the shots, I had plenty of oral medication to take, too.  The side effects were not fun either.  I was mostly lethargic and depressed.  I was under strict instructions to not work up a sweat. So what's a girl to do in July in Florida?  I sat on my couch and gained 10 pounds!  I was so ready for that part to be over!

So once my eggs were finally ready, I underwent surgery to retrieve the eggs.  That was our first great news. The doctor retrieved so many eggs, they called me the "egg lady" at the fertility clinic.  That was really promising!

My eggs then got a grade.  Literally, they were assigned a grade from A to F-- just like in school.  The doctor said I had about 12 grade-A eggs! We even laughed saying I could have a whole football team if I wanted. 

Then, it was finally my husband's turn.  The sperm.  Of course his one part in all of this was "pleasurable" for him!

We then had a choice to make.  The doctor asked if we wanted to put one or two eggs in my uterus.  He said since my eggs were so good that most likely both would take.  I asked him what are the percentages?  A normal person (how most of us got here on this earth) is about 30% chance that the egg and sperm will take.  Since science is involved here, my percentages went up to about 50%. 

This was tough.  We had already gone through lots of pain, time, energy and money, and we had to choose either one egg or two? Brett and I, still nervous about the baby life and the added stress of a multiple pregnancy on my body, we decided to gamble on just one egg.  We just couldn't fathom twins in our future. 

So, literally all of my eggs (egg) were in one basket (uterus). With $14,000 riding on this one egg, talk about ANXIETY!

(Yeah, I forgot to mention the money.  Even though I had two insurances, one with my job at Duval County Public Schools and one with my husband's insurance through his company, none of it was covered.  It came to around $14,000 out of pocket expenses. Worth. Every. Penny.)

The egg and sperm are fertilized outside of the body and grows for about a week before inserted into the uterus.  I continued to take hormones in order to trick my body it was a week pregnant although there was no fertilized egg in it in order for my body to accept the fertilized egg. 

The day finally came!  It was a quick and pretty much a painless procedure.  I was even able to see the insertion of the egg into the uterus. That was cool.

(The bright dot in middle left is the fertilized egg inserted into the uterus!)



We waited and prayed, and waited and prayed.  It worked!  And of course, the rest is history.  We got pregnant, and now have an amazing beautiful baby boy.  (My heart goes out for all the women who have to go through multiple rounds of IVF.  You are so strong.) 

So now back to the revelation I guess, huh?

I'm PREGNANT! Naturally! AHHHHHHHHHHHH!  How cool is this? No hormones. No needles.  No money.

We got this one for free! ;)

We thought Carson was our miracle baby, but now we feel like this one is!  I guess all babies are miracles. 

So how can this be? Well, for 9 months I didn't have a period along with 9 months of breastfeeding, so my scar tissue started to heal.  Pregnancy was the best thing for my endometriosis! I didn't have a period for a year and a half.  Actually, I've yet to have a period. 

And of course, as it says in the book of James, "All good and perfect gifts are from above."  Thank you, Lord, for all our many blessings.  So many times I fall short of Your glory, yet You provide me with more than I ever deserve. Thank YOU, God, for our first child, and my pregnancy, now.

Of course I didn't really think I was pregnant when I took the pregnancy test.  I had been working out the past month and really trying to eat healthy, and yet, my belly still looked so bloated.  I kept waiting for my period to come.  Finally, I asked my husband to buy me a pregnancy test just to be cautious.  He bought the cheapest one at the store, seriously not wanting to waste the money on a negative result.  But, good thing he bought a two-pack because we both couldn't believe it! I had to double check!

We were in shock, but this time it was pure astonishment and excitement!

So, here I am. 9 weeks pregnant.  Still super early and on some hormones just to play it safe.

 We are praying for another healthy baby come early September! =)

Why Should I Make My Bed?

I have to admit, I have never seen the logic in making my bed. I have fought with my mom countless times on this particular topic and our conversations used to go something like:


"Dianna, go make you bed."

"Whhhhhy?" (with way too much 14-year-old attitude) "All I am going to do is get back in it again tonight."

'It looks nice and it will feel good when you get home."

"But, that's totally pointless! It takes too much time and I could be doing other things." (my rationale)


 I've pretty much had this stance on bed making my whole life.  Just ask my childhood friend (who literally has made her bed everyday of her life) or my college roommates.  It just wasn't me. I only felt the need to make the bed if we were having company over. 

So the day has come where I can eat my words.  I am 28-years-old and have finally come to the realization that a made bed is a TOTAL game changer for the day. Once that bed is made, my day has officially started.  It just doesn't feel right to lay around in my p.j.'s once it's made.  If the bed is made, I'm in business. And since my business is being a mom and house keeper, this is a wonderful thing.

When people ask me how I am enjoying staying at home with my child, I seem to say I am doing great as a mom.  I know my job is to take care of my little honey bunny.  But, doing the whole house wife thing has had some getting used to.  Getting a routine together is tough for me.  Trying to find the time to get the daily chores done, take care of Carson, and find time for myself is not always easy.  I have TOTALLY underestimated how hard it is to keep the house in order while looking after my little one. 

 Of course before my son arrived  I would fantasize about not having a job and I would get all tickled inside thinking how much time I would have to clean and keep the house in order.  Laundry would be constantly done, dinner would be 5-star quality, and of course, I did all of this looking FAB-U-LOUS!  Well, in reality, I am lucky if I get a 10 minute shower, throw on some work out clothes, and straighten up the kitchen and living room. 

Too many days would go by where I would end up taking care of Carson all day and very little would get accomplished around the house.  So, I noticed when I made the bed, it was a total motivator.  A clean bed would inspire me to clean other areas of the house too. 

So, I guess all who have understood the reasons for this small, simple household task are laughing at me saying,

"Seriously? This is a revelation?"

 But yes, I realized I am a better wife and mother when I make my bed.  My day gets started and I am ready to tackle other things.  (It is also really nice to let down the comforter at night and slip into the cool sheets!)

2014 New Year's Resolution:  Make my freakin' bed!   

Your welcome, mom.