The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

So Tuesday was a bad day. I wouldn't call it Tuesday, it was more like Lose-day or Bruise-day or Wish-I-Drank-Booze-Day... Although apparently Tuesday is named after the god of war - so yeah that feels about right. It all started off normal enough, alarm, shower, dress, read book while eating breakfast. And then about 3 miles down the road my tire exploded. So I pull over and start changing my tire. I am a modern woman and know how to change a tire. But I could not for the life of me get the spare out of the trunk! The bolt-thingy (I said I know how to change a tire - I never claimed to be a car person that knows the names of things. You should just be happy I'm calling it a tire and not a wheel) that holds the spare in place was rusted shut or something because it would not budge. I was whacking it with the crowbar and getting nothing. I finally decide to go ahead and jack the car up and take the blown tire off and then come back to to spare and see what I can do. But once I'm done with all that, I still can't get the thing to move. So I decide I just have to call someone. I go to my purse and what do you know? I forgot my phone. I left it plugged, charging on Mark's dresser - just where I need it. Naturally I burst in to tears. I quit being a woman who knows how to change a tire and turned in to a girl crying on the curb. But then two men come around the corner riding bicycles and I look up at them with hope shining in my tear filled eyes and they promptly look away and keep riding. Apparently work out is more important than crying girl on side of road. Naturally I cried a little harder. And started praying that the Lord would please send someone to help me- someone that was strong and not more involved in their stupid workout cause those guys looked weak and skinny and probably couldn't have helped me anyway. And that's when a big moving company truck comes around the corner with two huge black guys in it, leaning out the window asking if I need help. I sniffle and nod, because at this point that's about all I can do. So Fred and Frank come to my rescue. (Those are actually their names I didn't just randomly make them up.) It takes them - remember these are two huge guys that work for a moving company - 20 minutes and a hammer to break the bolt-thingy off (because we gave up on trying to unscrew it) and get the spare out. I never could have done this on my own. And to be honest I don't think those guys on bikes would've been much help either. They put my spare on my car for me and I thank them profusely. They both say that it's no problem, when they saw me sitting there all they could think was that they would hope someone would stop and help if it was their mama or sister or auntie. Fred and Frank you are the best.

Now I am officially running very late for work and still have no phone to call and tell anybody what's going on. And when I'm only about 30 minutes late and 3 minutes from work, the guy in front of me slams on his brakes. I am far enough behind to come to a stop without hitting him - thank goodness. And just as I'm yelling at him, to myself in my closed car of course, about what is he doing?! I see that geese are getting ready to cross the road. Not already crossing the road, or even on the road in any way. But just on the side of the road as if waiting to cross. You do not need to stop for this. The geese can wait - some of us have to get to work. But the cars on the other side stop too and the geese look both ways (I'm not kidding they really do - these are some seriously pedestrian geese) and begin crossing the street. And it's not just a few geese, it's an entire flock. They were half behind trees so you couldn't tell how many of them there were at first. But there were 43, trust me I counted. And they crossed the street at a leisurely goose-pace in a single file line. Thank you geese. You may think that this would be a grand sight to behold and isn't cute, etc... But though I can sort of chuckle about it now - I was not impressed. I was just really late.

By the time I get to work I am 40 minutes late and rush in apologizing and explaining my crazy morning. I didn't even bother telling anyone about the geese, cause it's just another ridiculous thing. I rush around trying to catch up on the morning and when I finally settle down, I realize I've started bleeding. I was four days late and had 3 positive pregnancy tests, so we were just starting to get excited. Restrained, because of our history, but excited. I didn't have much left in me after the morning I'd had - so as you can imagine I completely break down. I pull myself together enough to tell my boss what's going on, she gives me a huge, wonderful hug and sends me home. And so I leave work and drive home to get my phone and then straight to the tire place, clearly I was in shock and did not want to deal with the bigger issue yet. I explain to Andre - my third huge black man of the day - that I am on a budget and that I can't really afford 4 new tires, but I'll do what he recommends. He inspects my tires and comes back and tells me that the other 3 all look great and he wouldn't replace them yet. I only need one, which will cost $70. Andre you are the best. Mark meets me there and takes me out for burgers and ice cream. And we chat. About nothing important. Mark you are the best.

After going to the doctor and getting blood work done, etc... the nurse calls me once I'm home and tells me that my numbers are so low that it was probably just a 'chemical pregnancy'. Oh, a chemical pregnancy. Thank you, I feel much better now. So it's not like this is my 5th miscarriage. It's more like 4.1 cause if we hadn't been counting days and trying we never would've even known. It's a bummer too because I really thought I wouldn't have any more miscarriages. I really thought the next time I got pregnant would be it. Oh well - it's not to be. I know this is a depressing post for all you, but don't worry you're not alone. It's depressing for me too. I just didn't want to make a bunch of phone calls, or hear a million suggestions about how to get pregnant and keep it. I've heard them all, I promise. I just needed to vent a little. And at this point it's starting to feel like old hat - 5 for 5.

But I also wanted to say a big thank you to those 4 men who saved the day for me on Tuesday - Fred, Frank, Andre and Mark. Couldn't have gotten through the day without your help. Also want to say a huge thanks to all those who are praying for us. And if you're praying that we get pregnant, let's start getting more specific and pray that we have a baby, or children, or a whole heap of children. I don't care how you phrase it - let's just get on this and make it happen. Cause I know we can. Thanks for all your love and support. I couldn't do it without you.

Big, Angry Beastie

Well another month has gone by with barely any news from me and I'll tell you why. Because I have been a big, angry Beastie! I didn't want to push all my mean-nasty on you, so instead I have been having daily ice cream anti-socials. (Or cake, or brownies, or chips, or cheese, or Mexican food... Mmm Mexican food that sounds delicious. I need to eat dinner.) But today while I was reading over my lunch hour, I realized that I have been a big, angry Beastie and need to get over it! Basically I have been saying "woe is me" for over a month now and I'm sick of myself. To give you an idea of my inner monologue, here's a sample: "Where are my babies? Where's my rich husband? Where's my big, beautiful house? Why am I still working? Why aren't I a stay-at-home mom with lots of children? Where's my new car with working AC? etc, etc..." You see how annoying I've been?

So I decided to be happy with what I got. I don't have everything I ever dreamed of, but in some ways I have more... I have a loving husband who tells me I'm hot everyday. He's my best friend and cracks me up! (Plus I always loved John Lennon and he's a little John Lennon-looking. Or as I now think, John Lennon is a little Mark-looking.) I have a good job and I make good money - in fact I just got a raise today. And I'm using that job to help my husband pay his way through school - this lady is bringing home the bacon. (Mmm bacon. Really need to eat dinner.) I don't have any babies yet and sometimes it's dang hard not to stress out thinking about how these eggs have an expiration date and wanting to slap every pregnant lady I see. (No offense to all my pregnant girls. Love ya, mean it! Happy for you, sad for me - you know how it is...) But I know that I will have some babies - in the words of George Michael I just gotta have faith - because the Lord is smarter than me. And thanks to modern conveniences, I have a DVR, Netflix, and a library card so I can escape at the snap of a finger. We just moved in to a super cute apartment that we love. And we don't have roommates anymore! (Can I get an Amen?!) Although I have a 12 year old car with no working AC - I have no car payment. And my friend's husband just put a CD player in it - no more tape deck for me baby, welcome to the 21st century - so I have been enjoying rocking out to my CDs on my way to and from work each day.
















So you see life aint too shabby. I mean just look at that dorky expression on his face - how could I not love that guy and be happy?!

Now I am going to go eat dinner, cause I am starving. In case you didn't already guess.

Musings of a Barren Woman

March of last year I had my second miscarriage. Which is hard enough to go through on it's own, but about two weeks after my miscarriage my unmarried boss came to me and told me that she was pregnant. Since we work together our cycles are linked up and so we had gotten pregnant at the same time. Which meant that I went to work every day watching 'my pregnancy' grow before my very eyes. Mourning your loss and going through the hormonal upheavals is hard enough - but watching an unwanted pregnancy as well makes it a lot harder! The struggles with my first miscarriage were almost forgotten in light of the second and all that accompanied it. When I had virtually reached my breaking point and was literally crying on my way to work telling the Lord that I could not take this for another minute - that he needed to help me find a new job like yesterday or take care of this somehow - my boss informed me that they didn't find a heartbeat and so she too had a miscarriage. Adding the guilt of feeling somehow responsible for her loss (I mean I had basically prayed for it!! And though I knew, of course, it was not my fault reason is not a hormonal woman's best friend!) to the depression I was already experiencing was more than I thought I could bear. But we grew closer and mourned together and laughed together and cursed the women who were lucky enough to be pregnant together....

The healing process can be a slow one and life can be crazy, so it's only been the last few months that Mark and I have been officially 'trying' to get pregnant again. And yesterday (in the middle of my cycle - going through the sorrow of still not being pregnant yet) she told me that she was 11 weeks pregnant. So far this pregnancy is very healthy and they are really excited, etc... She was, of course, on birth control pills and is still unmarried. And when I asked she told me that they haven't even talked about getting married yet. So I find myself thrown into the sorrows and struggles of last year all over again!

It is hard not to feel forsaken, alone, and questioning the unfairness of it all. How can the Lord bless all these unwed women with children? Why are 12 and 14 year old girls getting pregnant and choosing to keep the babies when there are so many couples who want to adopt? In a lot of ways we are lucky - we've only been married a few years and we can conceive, I just need to carry the baby full-term. I know so many couples who have been married longer and trying longer. Couples who have had multiple miscarriages and still-born babies. Couples who have finally made the decision to adopt and then having to go through the long and incredibly invasive process only to have to wait for years more.

When I was younger I would have honestly told you that I only wanted to get married so I could have children. I have always loved children and felt that one of my main purposes in life was to be a mother. But I have been very blessed in meeting and marrying a man that I love more than I ever thought I could love a person. And through all of this we have grown closer as best friends and husband and wife. And I have learned that motherhood does not mean giving birth to a baby. I am a mother to my nieces and nephew, and to the girls I teach at church. And I have faith that I will be a mother to my own children one day. Mark and I have both received revelation that we will be parents. And so at this time I have to be 'Infertile in Faith' and remember the power of the Savior's atonement and sacrifice for us all. I have to remind myself that the Lord only gives us challenges that he knows we can handle - and though I sometimes wish he didn't think I could handle so much - I can be strong and faithful. And I can have joy in my life on the way to reaching our goals. True happiness won't suddenly be there when I am handed a newborn baby. I can have happiness now!