Somewhere Beyond the Rainbow

6.21.16

I'm pregnant. I'm pregnant?

Due to a sweet, personal experience, I knew I was pregnant. I didn't know how I knew it. I just knew. I could feel this precious spirit with me. It was late, but I stopped at the store for a pack of pregnancy tests. I hurried home and decided to get ready for bed and test in the morning. I was 4 days early to my projected period start date, and I had drank tons of water. I knew the result would be more clear in the morning. So, I washed my face, brushed my teeth, always keeping an eye on the box of pregnancy tests. I shoved it in a drawer and went to bed. I laid there for 5 minutes and jumped back up to go to the bathroom. I laid the test on the counter to "season" (Juno) and went back to my room. I changed my pajamas to pass the time. I watched the clock: 1 minute, 2 minutes... 3 minutes. Back down the hall and slowly into the bathroom. I peaked over the test. One pink line; not pregnant. I just turned around and went back to bed. But as I laid there I felt it again. No, I know I am pregnant, I thought. I went back to the bathroom and picked up the test. I pulled it closer to my face and stared. There to the side of a dark pink line was a very light pink second line. I gasped and threw my hand over my mouth to keep from shouting. It was midnight, and Tyler was gone to High Adventure for 2 more days. Before I could think clearly, I was running up the stairs and bursting into my mother-in-law's room, hyperventilating and terrifying her, "I think I'm pregnant!" "WHAT?" She threw the covers and jumped out of bed. I told her she had to come down stairs and look at my test. With a second pair of eyes and my undeniable feelings, it was confirmed, I was pregnant.

6.23.16

I waited and surprised Tyler with the news when he got home. We were ecstatic, scared, overjoyed, shocked, etc. with a wide range of emotions. The Lord was blessing us with our little Rainbow baby. The timing, the feelings, we just felt sure that this little miracle was going to come and be ours and be the Rainbow we desperately needed after years of dark storms. 

The weeks pass and I start getting sick and feeling pregnant. It is the worst best thing in the world, feeling pregnant, but I'm just happy to be doing it! Sure enough, as with the others, my little bump makes it's appearance early. By 7 1/2 weeks I have a round belly by nighttime, and by 8 weeks it's present from the time I wake up in the morning, I'm wearing maternity pants before 9 weeks. Eh. Who cares? I'm pregnant!

7.28.16

I wrap the tissue paper thin sheet around my waist and hop onto the chair. Tyler, grinning, grabs my hand and we wait for the doctor to come in.

Dr. Lister, is all smiles and excited to see us. She's as hopeful as we are for this pregnancy. We chat about how I'm feeling (so sick, puking multiples times a week sick) and about what an amazing surprise this is to have just gotten pregnant so soon and so easily!

Finally, it's time to see this little babe, so we stare up at the dark screen with anticipation. The screen lights up as she moves over my uterus. And there it is. This perfect little gummy bear, just sitting there looking just like he/she should. Looking just perfect for 9 weeks. But... what? Dr. Lister's face droops. She closes her eyes and cries, "Dammit! You've got to be kidding me." She drops her face into her arm and says words I can't even believe I'm hearing, "There's no heartbeat."

I stare at her, confused. She grabs my leg and locks eyes with me, "I'm so sorry, Brittany." She turns to Tyler, "I'm so so sorry." She measures it's little body- 8 weeks and 2 days. My pregnancy is exactly 8 weeks and 6 days. It just died a few days ago. My head is spinning. I'm not crying. I'm just staring at it until she removes the ultrasound wand, and my baby is gone. Inside my head is just a voice screaming, WAKE UP! THIS ISN'T REAL!! WAKE UP! THIS IS A NIGHTMARE!" But nothing changes I'm still laying here, with my feet in the stirrups and staring at a black screen where I had just seen the image of my lifeless baby.

With tears in her eyes, Dr. Lister says she'll give us a minute and leaves us there in the dark. There's tears in my eyes but I'm still not crying and I don't know why. I can't find my words. Tyler and I try to console each other, but we're speechless and we're... we're... confused? broken? lost? wrecked? Yes. All of the above.

Dr. Lister comes back and we go over our options. We know from plenty of experience that we just want to get this over with and have a D&C. She completely agrees.

We wander out of the office and out to our cars. We call our parents and we drive home separately. Alone in my car, driving down Harrison, it hits me and I lose it. I feel my chest burst open and like my heart is being sliced into tiny pieces and I'm trying to see through a fit of tears to keep driving. I just keep rubbing my bulging bump and begging God to give our baby back.

How much breaking can our hearts take? Heaven now holds our 3 children, and we/re left to wonder if we'll ever get to have one to bring home, left to wonder if we'll ever have the chance to truly be parents in this life. I cannot help it. I'm breaking apart. It just feels so unfair.

7.29.16

Today marks 2 years since Boston's due date. I can't believe I could have a 2 year old right now. But instead of thinking about a birthday party or the "terrible twos," I'm laying in bed thinking about the baby inside my body that's no longer living and waiting for the hospital to call me for surgery.

For what it's worth, this is a much better experience than that with Boston. With Boston we had tried medication to induce me to miscarry on my own, but it hadn't worked and I ended up in the ER a week later hemorrhaging and needing an immediate D&C. Since I'd had it on a Sunday, they had to keep me in the Postpartum unit. They had wheeled me past the nursery on the way to surgery and I had laid in a recovery room with a bassinet and the sounds of babies crying in neighboring rooms. It was a cruel form of torture. It took hours to revcover due to days without sleep and all the blood I'd lost. However, for this D&C I got to the surgical unit before it closed for the weekend. I checked in at 5:30 and was home before 9PM. So, by comparison this was much easier... but I just still can't believe it happened.

When I came out of anesthesia, I was delirious and confused I wasn't sure if it had happened yet. I looked over at the nurse next to me and asked if it was done. She came over to check some things and told me that I was in recovery and that they'd take me to my husband soon. I don't know what came over me, but I started bawling uncontrollably, It hit me that if it was over, I was empty. Through tears I heard myself ask the nurse, "So, my baby's gone?" Her eyes turned glassy and she just nodded and grabbed my arm and mouthed "I'm sorry." She turned and left the room, and a different nurse returned to take me back to my recovery room. Tyler and I felt like by the time we left we'd broken every nurse's heart. Going over my history, or asking questions, they would come to find that this was our 2nd pregnancy loss and that our 5 week old son had just died in December. You gotta love that look people give you when they find out. Like you're so broken- which you kind of are. Like how are you surviving- which you're kind of not. It was good to finally leave and not having everyone looking at us that way anymore.

Dr. Lister, obviously, felt concerned with the pattern our pregnancies have taken. Missed miscarriage, infant loss with multiple birth defects and, another, missed miscarriage. She got permission to perform genetic testing on the fetus, so we'll have another microarray done to test this baby's genes. If the genes come back normal, we'll know that this miscarriage was just a fluke and we can try again, if we're up to it, in the future. If the genes are abnormal, we'll need to do some more extensive keriotype testing with my and Tyler's genes. It may just be that we cannot conceive a healthy embryo, and we'll be done with trying to. 

7.30.16

So, here I am now, waking up today and realizing this dream has really come to an end, again. There is a hallow and dull ache in my abdomen where our little baby's home has been demolished. 

I really thought this was going to be our chance. I had faith in it. I had faith in the Lord for it. I believed that this little baby would be our Rainbow and that we would bring this one home, healthy and full of life. But, again, we're left with empty arms and little hope. I can't really even seem to cry, even though I feel like it might help. I just feel numb.

I would like to tell you that my faith is unwavering and that I see God's hand and I understand His purposes. I want to. I want to be ever-faithful and ever-leaning on my Lord. But this time has made it very hard for me. This time I feel so blindsided, so broken. I'm so embarrassed to say that my prayers are weak and feeble, and my heart isn't truly in it. I am falling apart in the wake of this loss. Instead of getting our Rainbow we got another devastating storm. 

I just feel like somewhere beyond the rainbow, the end of it that we'll never reach, lay all of our hopes and dreams. And I feel so pessimistic for thinking that. I feel so disheartened that I feel so bitter. But I just do. I just feel so hopeless. I feel like it will never be our chance. The realization that we truly may never have children, is a tough pill to swallow. I feel like I'm leaving this blog post so unresolved, but I have no resolution right now. I can't tie up this sad story in a perfect bow and tell you that everything is just going to be alright, because I don't feel alright. So, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't give you an hope. I feel almost out of hope today. I just don't know how much more our hearts can take.

XO

The Faith & Courage to Keep Going

I haven't blogged for awhile, and there is a reason for that. I want this blog to be a place with uplifting messages, a place to find comfort and reassurance. But it has been some time since I could come up any words to portray that message, and then more time to figure out how and if I could share this. As difficult as this will all be to share and admit, I feel that it is important that I do.

Theodore Roosevelt said, "Comparison is the thief of joy," and, man, is that ever true. No good comes of looking at the things others have that you do not.

After Max died I couldn't go see friends who had babies around the same time or right after. All I could think of is how old my baby would be, what he could be doing if he had been a healthy baby like them. The ache of seeing these little babies that were the same age as mine was too much for me to handle. I felt so much guilt for not being able to, but I couldn't help it. 

I've tried to keep a positive attitude throughout our journey to have a family. Of course, I've had my up and downs during years of infertility and my miscarriage, but a darkness seemed to slowly envelope me in the wake of Max's death and I sunk below depths I wasn't sure I could make my way out of. I looked around at the happy families with their beautiful healthy children, and I ached for my baby boy and for the joy of a family. I felt the pain of "unfair" and jealousy for what others had been blessed with. Despite what I knew about Max and his special mission, my broken heart outweighed my knowledge and I just wanted my baby back.

In the beginning, the grief had been difficult, but manageable. But as the months waned on, it just seemed to get harder and harder. I began to hear the voice of self doubt whisper to me that I wasn't worthy of a family, that I hadn't been a good enough mother, that I would never have the family I dreamed of. It felt like my heart grew more and more broken, instead of healing. Just as I would try to mend the pieces, they would crumble to dust in my hands. My chest began to feel like a gaping hole that would never close. Between the grief of loss and postpartum depression, I began to feel nothing but miserable about my life without Max. I felt hopelessly unhappy. I saw no way for us to ever live "happily ever after" after what we'd gone through. I wondered how I could ever escape the darkness of grief and the pain that I felt. I spent many of my days in bed and in tears, aching and, ultimately, just wishing I could die and be with Max again. I would find myself haunted by suicidal thoughts constantly in my moments alone. The longer I kept my feelings to myself, the more unhappy and hopeless I began to feel. I couldn't find the courage to admit to anyone how horrible I was feeling. 

People have come to expect me to be this positive, uplifting, ever-see-the-bright-side person. So, I felt like I had to keep up that act with everyone, everywhere. But it started crushing me.

My counselor suggested I get further evaluated by the psychiatrist to try a new medication. So, I started there. I prayed that I would have an easy transition and that the Lord would guide the doctor to put me on the right medication to help start making me feel like I could manage again.

Finally, I told Tyler about how bad my depression had actually become. I was embarrassed to admit my defeat to him. But, as he always does, he wrapped me up in his arms and comforted me. We prayed together for peace, help and guidance to navigate both of us through this difficult time, and to know what we should do to help me find my way out of the pit of darkness I felt I was in.

As always, it never fails to amaze me how the Lord so often blesses us through others. In church the following Sunday, a sister in our ward taught a powerful lesson I will never forget as long as I live. To me, it felt as though the entire room had vanished away and she was teaching only me. Her words struck my very core. She relayed her own story about trials and experiences that had lead her to a dark time in her life. And as if God was speaking directly to me through this amazing woman, she spoke the words I needed to hear and gave me the answers to my prayers. While I had been struggling so much, I thought that I had dug myself into a pit of hopelessness I would never be able to climb out of. She shared that she when she had reached such a time in here life, she had heard a voice declare to her, "If a seed of faith can move a mountain, it can surely fill the deepest hole." As she bore her testimony of that experience, a light began to peak in through my clouds of darkness and I began to see pillars of hope again in that very moment. 

As I began to actively seek that light and turn that hope into renewed faith, I began to feel my small seed of faith fill my deep hole. As time went on and my new medication also started to take effect, I slowly began to climb out of my pit and out of the darkness. 

Each and every day takes faith. Faith in the Lord, faith in myself, faith in the future and faith in each day. Is it easy? Not always. Some days it is so hard just to get up out of bed. I think, it would be so much easier to give up. It takes strength and courage just to keep going. But with a little bit of faith, I promise, it will start getting better.

Gordon B. Hinkley said, "In such hours of darkness there has shown forth a light, steady and certain, to sustain and comfort and bless." That light is the gospel of Jesus Christ. His perfect love, His infinite sacrifice, His faith in each of us even when our faith in Him dwindles. He is the truth and the light. When my faith is steady and strong in His redeeming power, I feel lifted up by His glory. He loves me. He doesn't doubt me, even when I, shamefully, doubt Him. We are never alone, if we can just believe in Christ. His atonement meant that He took on all of our griefs, sorrows, pains, losses; everything that has ever and will ever break our hearts broke His first. He knows us. He knows that pain and He wants to take it from us so we can hurt just a little less. It is the most beautiful part of His gospel, the most beautiful gift He could give us. 

And so, with faith we keep moving forward. We keep hoping and believing that something better must be somewhere up ahead. In the meantime, we seek out the joy that surrounds us right now. And, if we just look, we can find so much of it. Despite all the hardships we face each day, there are always blessings. That is the thing I know most to be true about my Heavenly Father, no matter what trials He allows us to face, he never leaves us empty-handed when we are faithful. With our most difficult trials come abundant blessings, if we can just have the faith to see them. If we can just stop worrying about "happily ever after," we might realize how happy we could be right now. We just have to find the faith and the courage to keep going.

XO 

MRI results

MRI results, in the simplest form I can try to relay them:

1. Severe asymmetric ventriculomegaly (fluid on the brain, and significantly more than was there at 20 weeks)

2. Cervical meningocele (spina bifida) at the cranial vertebral junction.

3. Microphthalmia with tiny dysplastic left eye (extremely underdeveloped)

4. Cleft lip and palate.

At the ultrasound yesterday they were also able to see that his heart is slightly facing the wrong direction. And, of course, we know about his clubbed foot. 

The discovery of his tiny dysplastic eye brought greater concern about genetic abnormalities. One too many birth defects is cause for concern that the problem could lie in his chromosome makeup. With this knowledge and encouragement from the doctors, we are reconsidering having the amniocentesis done to determine what we are up against. 

We will be set up with neurologists at Primary Children's Hospital, and hopefully get an appointment in 2 weeks. We will discuss with them if there are any options for surgery or help they can offer Max's condition. Based on what we are able to find out there will help us decide the next step and creating a plan. If there are things we can do for him surgically, that offer him some form of quality life for some time then we would want to have an amniocentesis to determine if, genetically, he is compatible with life. If he is we can make plans to deliver at the University of Utah, where he can be taken to Primary's immediately for surgeries.

If he isn't compatible with life, or if the neurologists don't see a good outcome for his condition, we could opt to have me deliver at our local hospital and enjoy however much time the Lord gives us with Max.

So, for now, we wait for our appointment with Neurology. 

Let me be honest with you, people. I do not feel brave. I do not feel amazing.

I feel overwhelmed. And anxious. And SO tired.

I also feel completely in love with this wiggly baby boy growing inside of me. I am not anxious about being Max's mom. Getting the opportunity to be his mother will be the greatest honor of my life. And I'm certainly not worried about Tyler being Max's Dad. Hello, if you know Tyler at all you know he is the perfect Dad for the job.

What I'm worried about, what I am most scared of, is having so little time with Max. The conditions that he faces are so, extremely serious. Even with miracles I very well believe can happen, he is still going to have a lot of problems. And it is likely that his time with us could be very short. Now, I don't know what "short" means when it comes to a lifetime. Hours? Days? Months? Years? But when you are a parent, anything less than your own lifetime is just too short for your child.

I wasn't alive yet when my parents lost Shaun. Their firstborn son died, unexpectedly, at just a few months old. I spent many Sunday afternoons growing up looking through Shaun's photo album, staring at the pictures of that tiny casket and the sweet, sleep-like baby in the little sailor outfit that lay inside. No matter what sadness I had endured then I could not begin to imagine how that must have felt for my parents. What kind of indescribable pain bursts in your heart when you bury your baby? Now, my fear is that I may just have to find out what that pain feels like.

The Lord has made us strong, stronger that we could ever be on our own. I know He will continue to carry us and hold us up as we faithfully endure the trials that come. 

But, gosh, I just don't know. If I'm just totally honest. I just don't feel ready for that. I'm ready for any challenges of parenthood and raising a child with special needs. I'll take it. I'll do it! I can do it. I know I can do this if he survives. If he survives we will love him and help him and get him through whatever comes. But if he doesn't?? Oh, I just don't know.

So, what do I know? I know that the Lord love us. I know that whatever is meant for Max's life we will accept, despite the pain. I know that Tyler and I can do anything, get through anything together when we are teamed with our Lord and our Savior. I know that no matter how inadequate I feel for this challenge, somehow Heavenly Father will make me adequate. I know that families are forever, and even if we lose this sweet boy at some point, we will be together again in Heaven someday. 

I know that we are loved and prayed for by many, and we hope you all know how grateful we are for that. 

Just keep praying.

XO

Plans

Romans contains my favorite scriptures of all time. 

Romans chapter 8 is just full of good stuff. But the last verses of the chapter have brought me comfort during the hardest times in my life.

Romans 8:35-39

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution or peril, or sword? Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

I may be a pretty disorganized person at times, but I do like having a plan. And what's hardest for me about all of this right now is not even having part of one, not even a little plan. Tyler, however, never needs a plan. He can switch gears, change directions at any moment and it hardly even slows him down. I lay awake at night going over and over all the possible scenarios for the next few months trying to decipher a variety of plans based on what they could, and hopefully will, tell us from the MRI we have scheduled. I look up each of the possible diagnoses and I research the possible treatments and I see how each of them begins with, and I hear how our doctor always prepares us, "if the infant survives." And it's all too much for a mother to fall asleep at night. I just can't. I can't plan this, because we just don't know enough, yet. And despite all my research and effort, I truly cannot make a plan for Max right now.

Tyler just has one plan: Get Max Here. By whatever means, to be determined, Get Max Here. And, really, that's it. That's the only plan. So, for now I need to learn to take this one step at a time and take that plan as it changes. Plan to fall asleep, plan to go to AZ next weekend, plan to have the MRI, plan to get the results, plan to make a plan based on those results. Plan to pray, plan to read my scriptures, plan to go to the temple, plan to hear the counsel of the doctors and the counsel of the Lord.
Whatever steps need to be taken, the only plan is just to get Max here and in our arms for however long the Lord has planned.
That is the plan.

...And whatever the plan, we will be more than conquerors through Him that loved us.

Ready or Not? Not.

It's already been 3 months since I was 3 months pregnant. 3 months since we found out we'd lost Baby Boston at 12 weeks. 3 months since my D&C at 13 weeks, because my body just couldn't let go of that little fetus. 3 months since I woke to the empty realization that my baby was gone.

Yep! That was me, already showing at 11 weeks.

3 MONTHS.

And while January felt like a hell that wouldn't end, the time since has raced passed me faster than I can believe. The break in my heart still feels like a fresh wound, and some days I still wake up expecting to be pregnant, thinking that surely I must have dreamed a terrible nightmare. I still wear the maternity leggings I had just purchased days before- partly because I wish I was still pregnant and partly because, let's be honest, they're too comfortable to give up. Why can't it be fashionably acceptable to wear stretchy pants all the time??? I mean, really! Aaaaand back on topic...

I can't believe its been 3 months.

I've been ready to be pregnant again since February, but that's easier said than done. I hoped that 3 months of pregnancy had healed my body, and by some miracle it would start working like it should. I dreamed that we would get pregnant by surprise- no doctors, no meds, not tests.

Nope!

So, now we face the decision to start Femara, again. Femara wasn't bad. It made me really sleepy, but that was hardly much to complain about after the havoc Clomid raged on my hormones and emotions. And I got pregnant the 3rd month I was on it, so the problem isn't about taking Femara. Its everything that comes with really starting to "try" again. For those of you who think, "Trying is the fun part!" SHUT UP! Trust me, you have obviously never "tried" to get pregnant. There is nothing fun about ultrasounds when there's no baby, having your blood drawn all the time,  and taking pee tests at the most accurate ovulation read time (which, by the way, takes about 4 minutes to season and is when you are at work, using the public restroom)

Right now, Tyler and I are so happy! We have found peace after the miscarriage. We have fallen more in love. And we are content. It's hard to maintain happy and content once you start the roller coaster of infertility again.

Like I said, were facing the time to decide at the end of this week... Well, my period just came 4 days early and took my time to decide!!! What a jerk. Just another reason to hate that damned messenger.

So, here I lay, exhausted, but wide awake. Weighing the pros and cons of starting Femara again tomorrow, or putting it off another month. Weighing what I want against what I can handle. And coming to the ultimate decision that, while I'm ready for a miraculous conception that takes no effort on my part (and not giving up on that idea!), I am not quite ready to head down the road of meds, and tests, and stress, and disappointment again just yet.

But, ya know what? That's okay. It's my life and it's Tyler's life. He loves me and he'll patiently wait for me, because he is just that amazingly cool. And because he knows that, eventually, I will be ready.

And someday, I will be pregnant again.

Xo.

BUT I STILL HAVE HOPE

I've been dreading this day all week.
I think if you added up the hours I've slept each night it might equal, or at least be close to, a whole night's rest. I am running on fumes.
I've sped to work every morning, running late, tears falling all over my steering wheel.

Today was to be my 16 Week Ultrasound.

At 2:15 today Tyler and I would've waited in the office and placed our final bets. Then, we'd hold our breath and wait for the reveal... "It's a BOY!" Would probably have produced a huge sigh of relief from Tyler King. "It's a GIRL!" Would have made us both laugh and cry as Tyler went into a What do I do with a girl?? tailspin, and made me hope Please don't be like me! But either way, we would have claimed it was exactly what we wanted and been so incredibly grateful. We would have both laid in bed tonight imagining the most perfect porcelain-skinned, red-headed babe.
For the record we both think Boston was our baby boy. Just a thought.

But that isn't what happened today...

I woke up late.
Cried the whole drive to work.

And at 2:15, instead of holding Tyler King's hand and waiting to find out if little Boston was a boy or a girl, I walked into the doctor's office alone. I waited for them to call my name while woman after woman checked in at the front desk for their first prenatal visit, and the lady across from me rocked her darling newborn.

When they finally called my name, I walked passed the New Arrivals bulletin board covered with birth announcements. Then the nurse took me back to draw my blood for the 3rd time to see if my HCG levels have finally returned to not pregnant.

I'm not pregnant anymore. 

My clothes fit again.
I've lost 6 lbs.
The maternity pants I had just started wearing are too baggy.
The coat with the buttons that puckered over my little bump fits fine again.
My belly is soft and flattening.

What took 3 months to grow has vanished in 3 weeks.

When I close my eyes I can still see the ultrasound.
I still feel confused by the emptiness.
I still feel the way my ears started ringing, aching to hear that heartbeat again.
Behind the ringing I can still slightly hear the doctors apologizing.
I can still hear the sobs that ripped from Tyler's chest that first night.
Then, I remember waking up in post-op realizing how empty I was now that I was no longer someone's home.
I remember, for a second, wondering if they had taken my heart out during the surgery, because my chest felt just as empty.
I remember turning my head and pulling the sheet over my eyes as they wheeled me past the nursery in the postpartum unit, but being too tired to bother to cry anymore.

Days like today I end up talking to Heavenly Father A LOT. I'm a pretty vocal pray-er. I like talking out loud, waiting for His reply. I talk to him just like I would my own dad. I thank Him, sometimes I whine to Him, I ask for His help, and days like today I just beg Him. I beg Him to help me feel the peace I desperately need, I beg for His warming comfort, and I beg Him to show me all His love.
And Guess what! He never disappoints. He went with me to my appointment today. He held me tight while I felt like I would fall apart. And every corner I turn, every day, He shows me His divine Love.

It doesn't mean that life is never hard or that I'm never sad. I'm pretty shattered today, but the Lord always puts me back together. I can count on that. Just when I feel like the darkness is going to consume me, the light of Christ opens my eyes and reminds me that because of Him, even though today was hard, I still have HOPE. My Faith is bigger than my Fear.
Thank you, Lord. Thank you so much.

I'm thankful for my trials!

I have been participating in the "30 Days of Thankful" on facebook and instagram. I started it here on my blog with my post about being thankful for all of our AWESOME friends. I have posted serious gratitude for my amazing husband and our sweet parents. I have posted funnies like, today, I'm thankful that Lyss taught me to cut out snowflakes- Yes, I really didn't know how. No, it is NOT easy ;)

As this month bursts with pant seams and gratitude I am reminded that, as we struggle through the greatest trial of our life, I must reiterate how truly THANKFUL I am for this experience. I still wouldn't wish infertility on my worst enemy. And our two years and a few thousand dollars is no comparison to those that struggle for longer for tens of thousands of dollars. I pray, cry, send love, and tip my hat to all of you!!

However, as hard (understatement) as these last two years have been I must say that I see the Lord's hand in my life and I thank him for what I have learned, the blessings I have seen, and the love I have felt. It doesn't mean I'm not sad sometimes, because my heart sometimes absolutely breaks in two. It means that the Lord has blessed me to see my loving family and who my true friends are, those who grab my heart and hold it together when I cannot.

I am thankful that I have learned more than ever to turn to the scriptures for guidance. The words of Christ and his prophets bring peace to my soul.

I am thankful for prayer and the joy that is felt from communicating with my Father in Heaven.

I am thankful that the past two years have brought Tyler and I closer together. He has never made me feel inferior and stops me from blaming myself. I know more than ever the strength of his love for me and I will have to live a thousand more years to even try to convey that same love in return.

I am thankful for parents that love, guide, and protect us even when we are fully grown. They hold out their open arms when we fall apart, and like children again, we curl up in their love. In seeing this we have learned the love and wisdom it takes to be parents, and I am forever grateful.

I am thankful for the opportunity to be an aunt before being a mom. I have the opportunity to completely spoil and dote on 2 (one is on his way) baby boys.

I am thankful for finding the Reproductive Care Center ! I feel so grateful to be under the care of a clinic and doctor who truly care about me. I know that with their help we will be able to get through this and have a family.

These are just a few of the MANY things I am thankful for thanks to this trial. So, even if you are facing something awful right now. Step back and see if you can look for the blessings. I promise they are there. I promise Heavenly Father is there for you and wants what is best for you. He has a GREAT plan. We just have to wait for it.

Much Love.
Be thankful.

XO

For the Love of FRIENDS

For some reason this week has been extraordinarily hard.

It was round 3 of Meds week, and Femara is exhausting. I was in a zombie-like sleep state most of the days. Monday-Thursday I was late to work from either over sleeping or having to pull over, get out and jump around in the cold to get awake enough to drive. Every morning I stretched my eyes as wide as I could and drove with the windows down, and still nearly fell asleep while driving :/

By Thursday night I was so glad to just go hang out at the Lees'. We went to Logan to see our dear friends and their new baby. Tyler and Darren took the 2 older kids trick-or-treating while Larynn and I passed out candy and mooned over baby Nora. She is so beautiful. It's heartwarming and heartbreaking all at the same time. 

While we drove home, I broke down and told Tyler how down I had been feeling all week. I felt like I was reaching my breaking point. I have been struggling because I feel as if I'm reaching the limit of what I can handle, yet I have no inclination that our trial is even near being over. I feel strongly like we still have a long road ahead and more lessons to learn. 

The more discouraged I felt, the more I started letting the darkness in.

"You're not good enough."

"Your body is broken."

"Tyler can't be a daddy because of you."

"Where is God?"

I knew I shouldn't, but I let every dark whisper sink in and define me. I wanted to crawl into bed, pull up the covers and never come out. 

We got home and I called my Mom. 

{Aren't Moms the best?? I'm so lucky to have both my Mom and my Mother-in-law as two of my very best friends.}

So, my sweet Mom listened, loved, advised, and praised. She is one amazing woman- so much more than I deserve. How grateful I am that she would stay up so late to just be there for me. I adore her! Thank the Lord for phones, because I miss my mother terribly even with daily phone calls.

I finally crawled into bed around midnight. Tyler was fast asleep. I woke him up for a hug. He held me tight while I cried. I asked him for a Blessing and he gave me some beautiful guidance and peace. When I fell I finally fell asleep it was the most relaxing and sound sleep I'd had all week. I woke up feel refreshed and ready to take on the day. 

THEN I got to work and was greeted with a customer who wanted to know why I wasn't having kids, "Aren't you going to have kids yet? You shouldn't wait too long or you'll be too old. I know it seems good to wait, but I did and I regret it."

Thanks for making me feel worse, lady.

But, ya know what, I think I needed her to push me over the edge I was lingering on...

I vented on Facebook, and discovered how very blessed I am. Just when I was drowning in the depths of darkness, Heavenly Father sent in all my angels to lift me up. I am so incredibly and insanely blessed with the most outstanding friends. I don't know how I got so lucky! It is because of all of YOU that Tyler and I are surviving and powering through our greatest trial. We feel your love and your prayers and we are so grateful! I don't even know how I could find a way to thank each of you properly. So, just know that I love you and appreciate you and I thank the Lord for your friendship. I needed to hear all your loving words today and know that I can keep going. 

so much love to all of you. 

XO

Not the Miracle we wanted, but the Miracle we Needed.

December was coming to a close; a new year was about to start. I would finally graduate from college this year and, if I got my way, have our first baby.

I have been grateful from the start for a husband that was as excited as I was to become a parent some day. Throughout our first year of marriage we really had to fight trying to start a family, knowing we just weren't ready yet. But as 2012 neared with the promise of graduation ahead we knew it was our time.  Initially, we chose to start trying in April since that's when I would finish school, but as the new year approached we kept picking sooner and sooner months until we finally just gave in mid-December. We were so excited, thinking about how I'd walk at graduation with a little baby bump!

1 year, 4 months, 20 days, a dozen negative at-home pregnancy tests, 3 negative at-home ovulation kits, 2 negative blood drawn ovulation tests, 2 miserably horrible months on Clomid, and thousands of tears later- Here we are. Still no baby, and little hope for natural conception.

Clomid is a medication for inducing ovulation. Typically, a patient is prescribed 3 cycles. Like many hormone increasing medications it can cause some intense side effects, like turning into a crazy nut-case! After cycle 2  and the severely frightening depression that accompanied it we decided we could not risk taking it a third time. Natural conception is not worth risking your mental health; it's just not!

My sweet doctor was very supportive and understood my decision. When I asked if 2 months of positive ovulation on Clomid had been enough to jumpstart my body to start ovulating on it's own again she apologetically replied that the odds were very unlikely. Our next step would be an infertility doctor (which of course would mean more meds... NO THANKS!) I politely declined to a referral for the time being. We needed a break!

Before I hung up the nurse said, "Call us if you have a miracle."

Miracles are a funny thing. Miracles come big and small. They come when we least expect them, and when we need them desperately. And sometimes we pray and pray 'til our knees are sore for the miracle we want, but God gives us the miracle we need.

For so long we prayed for a baby. We prayed and cried to the Lord to give us the child we so badly wanted and felt ready for. When that didn't work, it occurred to us that maybe we were praying for the wrong thing...

Heavenly Father sees the big picture. He knows when it is time for us to have a family. We see RIGHT NOW, and our prayers were evident of that. So, we changed. We stopped begging, we stopped praying for what we wanted. We started telling the Lord "Thank you."

"Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for blessing us with each other.
Thank you for our families and friends that support us and help us.
Thank you for the children that surround us that we can love and enjoy until we have our own someday.
Thank you for doctors, medicine, and science that can help us uncover what does and doesn't work in our bodies.
Thank you for love..."
Now this was the hard thing to thank him for.
"... Thank you for this trial."

To be grateful for the very thing that was breaking our hearts was so hard, but we knew we had to. Deep down we knew that Heavenly Father wouldn't give us a trial that was beyond our abilities to take on or give us something we weren't supposed to have right now. So, somewhere in this trial were blessings. We would never find the blessings if we chose to let it overtake us. So, instead, we chose to be grateful and the blessings became so evident.

We relied on each other more, shared our feelings more, talked more, loved more.
We relied on the Lord more and prayed more than ever.
We put the atonement to use better in our lives, knowing that only Christ had felt our heartbreak and could understand.
We grew closer to the Savior, felt him more, loved him more.
We had such amazing friends and families, and feeling their prayers for us was a huge blessing.
And once we acknowledged all of this, and felt the blessings of our trial we were overcome with the purest, sweetest PEACE.

God knew we needed peace in our hearts to know that hope is never lost. That even though we weren't having a family right now didn't mean He wasn't listening and didn't mean He didn't care. We needed peace to know that the Lord's timing is the right timing, because we don't see what He does. We needed peace that would bind our breaking hearts and give us the faith to keep moving forward.

Peace was the miracle we needed, not the miracle we'd been begging for, but the one we needed most. Heavenly Father knew that, and he blessed us.