The Two Week Wait


(DPTS stands for Days Past Trigger Shot)

The two week wait is what the TTC (Trying To Conceive) community uses to refer to the time between ovulation and the time when it’s okay to test to see if you have a BFP (Big Fat Positive) or a BFN (Big F***ing Negative). It’s the longest two weeks of life.

For us, it starts with a trip to a doctor so I can get probed (ultrasound to see if the fertility drugs they have me on are indeed causing my body to develop follicles for any baby to attach to properly) and a big OK from my RE (Reproductive Endocrinologist) to, as she so awkwardly puts it, “bring the love” for the next three days. That is, after I inject myself with a hormone that will ensure that I ovulate, and ovulate immediately.

The two week wait is a horrible, awful mind game.

After the “love” has been brought, I have to take an additional hormone medication to ensure that if I am pregnant I stay that way. Those two medications cause pregnancy symptoms all by themselves, mainly because if I had a “normal” body and/or pregnancy, these hormones would be created in the correct amount all on their own. I know what it feels like to be pregnant, I’ve been pregnant before THREE times. Those three times were without any medical help though, so I try to convince myself as my breasts swell, my moods bounce around, I get that uneasy feeling that makes me almost feel like I could yack, amongst other things… I try to convince myself that it’s all because this round worked. This round we got pregnant, I’m so sure.

I trick myself into thinking I’m pregnant. I realize I’m using the restroom more, but I do not take into account that I really have been drinking a lot more water than usual. Or I’ll find myself craving pickles and giggling as I eat one after the other, but really, I’ve always loved pickles. I’ll think “Wow! I really am so tired so early these days!” not thinking about how I’ve actually been staying up way later at night just to get through chapter after chapter in whatever book I’m reading. I trick myself into thinking I’m pregnant.

The day before test day I am a wreck. I get really emotional, and I try to think that it’s pregnancy hormones doing their dance… When deep down, I know that it’s just the good ol’ lady time trying to fight it’s way through. I know what it feels like to be pregnant, and again, this cycle just was not quite right. I get depressed, I get angry, I’m not pregnant, I know it, but I will test the next day just to be sure.

Then test day is finally here. I have to test on a particular time frame for two reasons. I cannot test before the two week mark because I could get a false positive (remember that injection I mentioned? Well, that causes an influx of HCG, the pregnancy hormone, to be in my system – and cause a false positive up to ten days after the injection). I have to test then to ensure that if I’m not pregnant, I stop taking the additional hormone medication they have me on because otherwise, said medication will prevent me from starting my next “lady time”. (SIDE NOTE: THIS cycle I tested throughout, trying to track when the shot was actually out of my system. AND boy, if day 12 after my trigger shot wasn’t a tease. – photo above)

I take the test and place it on the counter. Wait three minutes to look at it, I always tell myself. Sometimes I’ll distract myself, do whatever quick chore needs to be done. Other times I just stare at the test, watch as it processes. I imagine that second line appearing, and when just one is there, I feed myself a bunch of “it’s okay” statements when really, to me, it’s not at all okay.

I avoid telling my husband out loud. He knows it’s test day and he knows if it had been positive I would not be on the couch sulking. I want to send out a text “Still not pregnant! Happy?” to a few friends who I’ve felt have turned my infertility into a form of competition, one that they’re obviously winning against. I want to scream, put every annoyed parent in their place when their kid is simply being a kid, and punching every parent who would rather pretend their child does not crave their love and support and chooses to ignore them anyway, I want throw a chair at every woman who complains about how awful it is to be pregnant. I do not do any of that, but sometimes it can be extremely difficult not to. I throw a dirty look their way, that’s about as far as it gets.

Now begins a grieving process. I throw myself into misery and self loathing. You’re not pregnant, but if you were, who’s to say you would not miscarry it too?! I remind myself of all the things I’m not good at. I remind myself of all the things I cannot do. I try to fight through it, I swear I do.

I’ve been pregnant three times, all three ended in miscarriage. Monitor my cycles, give me fertility drugs proven to work, have the RE tell me how good they feel about this cycle (even though they said that four cycles ago), I will not get pregnant.

The two week wait is over, my home pregnancy test is negative. I’m grieving a pregnancy I never had, as well as the three that I lost. I still hang on to hope for a few more days. I stop taking the additional hormone medication, but hope that my “lady time” will not come. I hope that my HCG levels were simply not enough for the test to detect yet. IT WAS TOO SOON I tell myself, THERE’S STILL HOPE FOR THIS CYCLE! Those cramps must be my uterus stretching, not the inevitable approach of CYCLE DAY ONE!

Yet, Cycle Day One bears it’s ugly head. For women like me, who have miscarried, I think it’s traumatic on it’s own for many reasons. Fight through it, there are calls to be made. I have to call a mail pharmacy because the injection drug is not carried anywhere local and has to be shipped to me. I have to call my RE to report I am, indeed, not pregnant in the slightest. The nurse at the RE sends in a refill for the prescription of the other drug that is suppose to make those follicles mature quickly, and then refers me back to the probe lady so I can go on Cycle Day 3, and again on Cycle Day 10 (the usual start day of the Two Week Wait).

It’s a vicious, heartbreaking cycle.

I have a medical condition that makes this cycle REQUIRED, just to clarify. A pituitary tumor, a micro edema, that they (those medical studying folks) know so little about. I do have to worry. I do not have a lot of time to satisfy the 1.5 children quota of the typical American family. Because of my pituitary tumor, I could hit early menopause, and I could hit it SOON. Any hope and chance of having the word “mother” be an adjective for me; GONE. DON’T WORRY, they say. Easier said than done.

Today 125,000 abortions will be done, 360,000 births will be delivered, and somewhere maybe 360,000 women (or probably more, because some of them will have abortions) will discover that they are pregnant. (P.S. Don’t take this as a pro choice or pro life argument, because it’s not. I’m just regurgitating actual facts for the sake of it)

Today, for me, the two week wait ended.

I’m still not pregnant.

Advertisements

What to say when You Don’t Know what to Say

Something bad has happened. Not to you but to a friend, family member, co-worker, or whomever. You want to reach out, but what do you say? What do you do? What can you do to let the person know you are there for them? It’s such a unnecessarily touchy subject. I think the best way to answer any and all of those questions is actually pretty easy: BE GENUINE.

Especially in this day and age, we make light of sad times unintentionally. When a friend’s loved one dies or whatever the situation may be, it’s so easy to reach to phrases such as “everything happens for a reason” or “they are in a better place.” It’s like a way of censoring yourself, those phrases have become “politically correct” because everyone has said them for a very long time. Please stop with those phrases. Those phrases help YOU think you are saying the right thing, but they do not necessarily helping the person you are saying them to.

If you’ve read my blog, you know that I have struggled to cope with my miscarriages. I knew I had two, and recently realized before I was ever treated for my pituitary tumor, I most likely had my first. In December, we announced we were finally pregnant and got so much support. When we announced we had lost the pregnancy in January, everyone fell off the map. I think, in our situation, although preparing to be a first time parent can be nerve wracking and all help can be good help, we could have used the support MORE when we found out we lost the pregnancy. It has been an extremely lonely time. For me, I felt rejected by friends and family (see my post: This was Written in Anger). I felt like they did not care about me. I felt like they dismissed my pain (both physical and emotional) like both my baby and I never mattered. Often, I still feel like this, even though in most cases, it’s not true. Something came to life and then died inside of me, both physically and emotionally. I’m led to believe that It would be better if I did not talk about it, just in case I might offend someone. If I do talk about it, it should probably just be to support groups of STRANGERS online who have been through the same thing, not to actual people I LOVE and know me personally. Twisted, isn’t it?

I’ve been on the other side many times. Miscarriage happens to 1 in 4 women, it would be pretty unusual to not know at least one person who has experienced it. A beautiful cousin of mine, who has since had some of the most polite, smart, and well-mannered children to ever be brought to the Earth, was the first person I knew to have a miscarriage. I was thirteen I think, or somewhere around there. It was a very happy family event and everyone was having a great time. I went to take a bathroom break, and inside the bathroom was my cousin and a few surrounding her, consoling her. She was in tears and I remember stopping cold, shocked not just because she is usually such a happy and positive person, but I also did not know what to say when they told me why she was so upset. I don’t know if I said anything at all. For that, I’m sorry.

If you do not know what to say, and do not want to say anything wrong, I hope these few suggestions help. This isn’t an exact science, this is not at all correct for all people or all situations. This is what I wish people had done for me.

A few quick and easy DON’Ts:

Everything happens for a reason – what reason do you think my baby had to die? Yes, the majority of miscarriages occur because of natural selection (your body knows something is wrong with the fetus and spontaneously aborts it). However, sometimes (like in my case) it’s something wrong with my body and the way it processes hormone imbalances that causes the miscarriage to occur. Either way, it’s not as comforting of a thing to hear as you may think.
God needed another Angel – an easy thing to say when God didn’t ask you for yours
Anything starting with “At least you didn’t-“ – lose it later in the pregnancy? Know the sex of the baby? Go the entire pregnancy to have a stillbirth? Yes, at least those things did not happen. Don’t bring them up. Even if those things had happened, I would probably still feel the same.
It is all in God’s plan – maybe this works for someone really religious, but I think it’s safe to say you should steer clear of it regardless. It’s like saying God wanted you to be in pain, learn some horrible life lesson, etc.
ANYTHING about how much you consider changing diapers/sleepless nights/etc a pain. We would gladly do it if given the chance, and you now look like an ungrateful asshole.
Here’s a great infertility/miscarriage article – I’m aware of my battle. I do a lot of my own research as well as see TRAINED PROFESSIONALS about my specific case regularly. I live it everyday. Please realize that you offering me an article like that would be the same as me sending you an article on how to be a better parent. It’s kind of insulting.
“If it makes you feel any better, I had to go through this bad thing” – 1. You are diminishing my situation & 2. Anyone who says, “Yes that does make me feel better that you had a horrible time” is a complete jerk. 3. Life is not a competition and certainly not a competition to see who can do worse.
“So & So suffered with infertility/miscarriage and now they have three healthy children” – Good for them, but just because So & So beat the battle, it does not mean that I will. Not everyone is so lucky.
You will have a baby one day – No, I might not. There is no guarantee my situation will be solved. Yes, “At least” I can get pregnant, but that does not mean that I can have a healthy baby.
There’s always IVF/Adoption/etc. Yes, there is and for a large price tag that you are probably unaware of. The average cost of IVF (In Vitro Fertilization) is $12,400 whether it works or not. The average cost of a domestic adoption in the United States ranges anywhere from $30,000 to $50,000.

AND now for the GENUINE responses that I wish we had gotten; The please Do’s:

“I’m so sorry for your loss” – It’s simple and to the point. It lets me know you were thinking of us and our situation, and that means a lot.

“I’m coming over. I’m bringing food. I will sit with you if you want me to, if not I understand” – There were a lot of times that I did not want to talk, but having a friend or family member there to just sit with, would have been nice. When I lost my “first” pregnancy, the initial day was the worst day of my life, going through labor at only 11 weeks pregnant is not at all pleasant – both physically and emotionally. It took me a little over a week to recover physically from it. Emotionally, I may never recover completely. Depression is no different than being sick, you do not have the strength or energy to do anything. A little help would’ve been amazing, and definitely never forgotten.

“Talk to me about it” & MEAN IT. & then, most importantly, LISTEN.
There were few that actually cared to listen to me when I needed to talk about our miscarriages. I get it, it makes people uncomfortable. BUT at the same time, I’m unconformable. I’m depressed. I’m broken. My child and my hopes and dreams for them DIED. I talked a lot and then it was met with a “oh, that’s terrible” and then the subject was changed. Or I talked and and my situation was compared to something else not the same. I need to talk about what happened to me and my baby to help me heal, to help me find peace. Belittling the situation is not helpful and it really hinders the process.

“I was going to do this today, would you like to come along?” We might talk about it, we might not. But letting me know you want to be around me even though I am having a hard time, or even that I might decline, still means so much.

Still don’t know what to say? They hire people to make cards that do.

When we felt it was time to announce our loss, we did so on Facebook (minus our parents) instead of calling everyone individually (hopefully, for obvious reasons). That’s how the majority of people found out, I’m sure. We got a few responses here and there, and those meant a lot to us. A lot of people sent their condolences to my parents, not to me directly. I was not even made aware of this either, until telling my parents I felt like I was alone and no one cared MONTHS later. I do not know who said what, how they felt, etc, I wish they had told me. It didn’t happen to my parents. It happened to us.

In February, maybe a whole month after our first known miscarriage, we ran into one of Steven’s friends and co-workers. I had met the guy once before and only briefly. Although it was kind of awkward, not going to lie, he gave me the “I’m so sorry” look and gave my shoulder a squeeze. It meant a lot to me.

We received one card after our first known miscarriage. It was from the head of Steven’s company’s FRG, she was new, and we had never met her in person. The card said a lot of touching and prevalent things that were extremely comforting and thoughtful. It’s the only card we have received throughout the entire time about the matter.

I was told I was a bad friend for not wanting to know about friends’ pregnancies. However, those friends were not bad friends because they did not want to know what I was going through because of my miscarriage? (See my post, Words Begging with G) First, that’s completely unfair. It’s not that I did not want to know, it’s that knowing was a reminder of what was taken from me. There are milestones they got to have and will continue to have, that I never will with my baby. I did not know if any of my babies were going to be a boy or a girl, no baby shower for them, no celebration of my baby’s upcoming arrival and certainly not of their BIRTH. They were too busy being happy to be bothered with my sadness, and vice versa, I was too depressed to have the reminder of a happy, healthy pregnancy. Neither is wrong necessarily. I do beg to anyone who is pregnant, and your friend loses their pregnancy, DO NOT say “If your baby had lived, what were you going to name it because I don’t want to take your name.” I was asked that. In all honesty, I’m jealous of my pregnant friends and those who just gave birth to healthy babies. I think my reasoning is totally understandable. So pregnant ladies, please just be mindful of how you say or ask things. You’re experiencing something I was denied.

I really hope this does not come off as me trying to being cruel. I’m just being truthful. I’ve been on both sides of not knowing what to say and also wishing someone would say SOMETHING at all. I realize there can be a lot of miscommunication and bad interpretations of what people say and what they mean. I get it. I’m just trying to say that tough times can be painfully lonely.

I’m trying to bring awareness.

I’m trying to support SYMPATHY & EMPATHY alike.

Loss is never easy, no matter how long or short the person was known.

It’s not always easy knowing what to say, but as much as the thought counts, it’s important that you tell or show the person there is a thought there at all. Don’t just pray for somebody, tell them you are praying for them. Don’t discuss your sadness with people outside of the situation, discuss it TO the person it happened to. Where words fail, touch can speak for you. When all else fails, there are many locations to buy cards.

If you are a loved one who has spoken to me about our situation, I appreciate it more than you will ever know, and I am so thankful for your support. I think it’s also important for me to say that if you are a loved one of mine who didn’t say anything to me, I understand why, I just wish you would. In times of happiness, support is nice. In times of sadness, support is what gets us through it.

If you were here…

If you were here I would be the happiest mother there ever was. I would hold you close and be sure to let you know that you were safe and protected. I would memorize all your tiny features, trying to remember them before they grew too fast. I would sing to soothe you when you were upset, or to make you laugh and dance. I would read to you all my favorite stories, hoping you would grow to love literature as much as your momma. I would have daddy play the guitar for you so you would be just as passionate about music as we are. Daddy would teach you so many things, even some things he probably shouldn’t. For your naps, daddy would be your big teddy bear to sleep beside you. We would tell you that we love you so much and so often that “love” just might have been your first word.

If you were here you would have an official name. If you were a boy, you would have been named after your daddy, and his dad before him. If you were a girl, well, we probably would still be debating it, but your middle name would have come from your great grandmother on your momma’s side. If you were here, we may have changed our mind entirely, and named you something completely different to suit your laugh and your smile. We named you Avery, a unisex name because we did not know what you would have been. We were so excited to find out, but you left us a few weeks short of us being sure. Avery means noble, which we are sure you are. It also means blonde ruler, which is showing just how much momma was hoping you would have taken after your daddy.

If you were here, maybe your grandparents would be too, and our friends who are now like family. Your grandpas would probably boast about how awesome and amazing you are, just like them, all while your grandmas cooed and smiled for you. Instead, family and friends are across the country at home in California. They do not talk with us about you much, not because they do not care, but because they think it will hurt your daddy and momma. I hope they think of you just the same though as if you were here: fondly and with love.

If you were here we may not have known quite what to do every time something was wrong. We might not know what to say right away to make the bad okay again. In daddy’s case, it may have taken several tries to get your diaper on just right. If you were here, I hope you know we would have tried our best each and every time.

If you were here, we would have never known the hurt and heartache it was to lose you. We would have been so thankful, but somehow, we may have taken for granted how lucky we were to have you in our arms.

Today we expected you to be here with us. It was your day to be due for entrance into the world. It was the day you were supposed to have been born.

But you are not here. You are there, wherever there is. I hope that there you are happy, healthy, and know how much you are loved. We wanted you so much. We want you still. We hope that one day we can meet you, and memorize all your features, hold you close and tell you all the stories we have been holding inside.

Daddy and Momma love you, Avery. Please watch over your sibling for us until we can all be together again. ♥

The Year of Life Lessons

A year ago today Steven, my husband, left for deployment. We expected him to be gone for 9 months. He’d only joined the Army not even a year before, and we had just moved to Kansas four months prior. It was nerve wracking on so many different levels.

The night before had been restless. The morning of I remember feeling numb; trying to be strong but being so broken. There is so much that I wanted to say, to express in some way, but could not find the words, enough words, or any one word that would mean as much as I wanted it to. My husband, the love of my life, my best friend wasn’t going to be in the bed next to me when I went to bed that night. He was not even going to be in the same time zone for much longer.

And so they went. He traveled for a week before he got where he needed to be. Every morning I woke up around the time he was getting off work, evening there. When I went to bed, he was waking up. It’s so bizarre being on opposite sides of the globe.

Shortly after he left I was diagnosed with a pituitary tumor (the main cause of my infertility struggles). I’m still, and for as long as we want to have children, I will have to take medication (that is more often used for women recovering from breast cancer) to keep it under control. It cannot be removed, it will just grow back.

He got to come home SIX months earlier than expected. He was safe, he was an arm’s length away, he was in the same time zone! There’s so much that forces you to be strong in the Army life, so much that will break you down to where all you can do is cry, and then there are moments of absolute magic. Military spouses are lucky in the sense that we have many first kisses.

I could not help but feel that we cheated deployment somehow. Many times I have thought that because of that, we lost the two pregnancies we had during the time he could have still been deployed. Maybe it was life’s way of working out the kinks, or balancing the scales, whatever it may be.

Being happy without guilt has been a complete struggle this year. There’s been a lot of self loathing, anger and depression this last year. We’ve been handed a lot of unlucky hands time and time again. Before this year I had a completely different mentality with many things. Before this year I did believe that everything happens for a reason. I love the romantacism behind the idea, but at the same time, why did our babies have to die? What reason was that? With that, the “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” part of me struggled. Sometimes choosing happiness is not as easy as it sounds. I understand depression in a whole new light. I understand heartache. I’ve been there, I’ve picked myself up, but every once in a while I trip and fall… hard.

We’ve hit the one year mark of a difficult year. We are together. We are safe. Not everything happened the way it was planned. Not everything happened the way we wanted it to. BUT We made it!


(taken last night: August 4th 2014 by yours truly, with help of my tripod)

I hope with every single ounce of my being that the next 365 days are much more kind to us. I hope that we can find happiness and not have to fight for it. This year I hope happiness finds us. Please.

100 Happy Days ♥ Days 1 through 10

This year has been emotionally challenging for me. It went from being excited and worried about becoming a mother and our family finally growing like we have wanted for so long, to total heartbreak when we lost the pregnancy. It’s been rough, and I have expressed that plenty, here on my blog. The past month I’ve been feeling much better, blame it on the warmer weather or the avoidance and dismissal of all negativity. I get my moments of grief and sadness, but I’ve learned not to bask in it. I have to keep on keeping on. So, to remind myself to look for the good in everyday, I decided to take part in the 100 Happy Days Photo Challenge on Instagram!

Tuesday, April 1st 2014

I was really excited to start this project. As day one, I chose myself. Being happy has not been as simple as simply choosing to be happy. So, by starting this challenge, wanting to look and find happiness again, has made me happy all in itself.

Wednesday, April 2nd 2014

We’re in the process of moving! Although it’s still on the premature side, we have been packing up the house like crazy! Slowly putting things into boxes is much easier than stressing about having to do it, and having to do it all at once! I went to take a break from packing, the kitty came to snuggle with me, and together we watched a little bit of Netflix before my husband came home!

Thursday, April 3rd 2014

I’ve always been one for colder weather, but not too cold! It has been warming up, but this day it was gloomy and rainy. It was very appreciated for a number of reasons! Mainly, it got rid of the smoke in the air from the crop burning in the nearby hills. Also, I love the smell of rain and the pretty clouds!

Friday, April 4th 2014

Last Friday was a rough day. Tayte, my cat, had been sick since the day before, throwing up all day and being very tired. We took her to the vet, and on the way home we made a quick stop at the store for medicine for her. When we got home I realized this tiny bottle of The Kracken Rum amoungst the things my husband had purchase while my cat and I waited in the car!

Saturday, April 5th 2014

We wanted to take advantage of the good weather, but did not know how to go about it. We wondered aimlessly around town, and ended up in a couple local thrift stores. At one of them I purchased this old Minolta AutoPak 250 with flash for $2.50! A simple, but cute, addition to my growing camera collection! Oh! AND it still works!

Sunday, April 6th 2014

By night, it seemed that Tayte was feeling MUCH better. We had cleaned the house all day, packed away everything that once hung on the wall, and fixed up a few things. We like to close out the world and read before bed. It does wonderful things for our stress levels. I like character books or magazines, Steven likes news articles and books about sciencey stuff!

Monday, April 7th 2014

These two together melts my heart. Steven likes to say that he’s not a cat person, but he will let her snuggle with him just the same. She still was not feeling her best, and when Steven got home from work and changed, she wanted to be right where he was.

Tuesday, April 8th 2014

Whoever pinned these knife magnets on Pinterest last week, touché! I showed them to Steven and we agreed that we needed them. They came on Tuesday and have been making us giggle ever since!

Wenesday, April 9th 2014

We went to the grocery store and they had a bunch of candy in a discount bin. I grabbed these, not having them since high school. Back in the day, I’m pretty sure I got these EVERY day from the student store at lunch. It was a nice treat to go down memory lane, but at the same time, they make my teeth hurt now!

Thursday, April 10th 2014

THIS girl seems to FINALLY be back to normal. No more upset tummy, sitting and sleeping in the window, talking and yelling at us loud and clear!

Not to have a silly plug, but if you have Instagram and want to follow along with the daily posts, they’ll be there! If you are taking part of the challenge or plan on doing so, let me know! It’s always fun to be happy with others! ♥

Packing Tape, Veterinarians, & Happy Thoughts

It’s been almost two weeks since my last post! For those of you who care, thank you, and my apologies! Life got hectic and by the time I had a moment to sit I could not muster out the words.

As soon as we finally found out that we were going to get to move on post we started packing up our current house. When our renting company found out that we would not be renewing, the owner decided to sell the place. They showed it a few times before it even went on the market, and it sold then too. The house was cute for the showings at least, but after that, everything went into boxes! There’s still two weeks until we get the keys to our new place, but everything is off our walls, taken out of closets, and put into boxes! We’re ready to go!

We’ll have three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and no basement – JUST in time for tornado season! We’ll have more room than we know what to do with and hopefully MUCH better neighbors. Even then, we will not be sharing any walls with our neighbors (unlike most post housing). We will share a driveway area but that is it!

My cat, Tayte, is one of the main reasons why I have not posted recently. Last Thursday she started to get VERY sick. We took her to the vet on Friday, and all her vitals were normal and healthy. However, my kitty was throwing up often and acting very lethargic. On Sunday she started to feel better, but still had symptoms of illness. Today, I think she is finally back to normal. I don’t know if she got stressed out due to all our stuff being in boxes suddenly, or if she ate a bug that just did not set right with her.

I have been good about keeping up with my participation in the FatMumSlim Photo Challenge as well as the 100 Happy Days Challenge on Instagram (follow me here)! I’ve definitely been focusing on going out of my way to feel happy, do things that make me happy, and be around those who make me happy. Life is too short to feel anything but happy, but sometimes life gets in the way doesn’t it? Trying to keep that smile on my face. It’s time to start again, get a new chapter going, and all that good stuff! So, please excuse me for my temporary absence, It’s going to be a crazy few weeks more!

A Look in the Mirror

This photo was taken a little over six years ago (February 2009). I was starting to really get into photography and I had just discovered clone photos (more than one of the same subject in a single frame). At the time I was in between living at home with my parents and with Steven. I was going full time to school, working almost full time, and I was really happy. I took this photo to represent all the people I was while still being a blank canvas (having the ability to be whoever I wanted to be).

When I attempted to go through photographs yesterday for a different post, I came across this one. That girl, a blank canvas able to become whoever she wanted to be has became those things she wanted to be. I proudly hold a bachelor’s in English, I am a wife to an amazing man, I’m usually quite silly and happy. Somehow I got stuck becoming a few things I did not want to become along the way, having medical conditions that bring me down, and becoming a mother to a child I will never be able to hold. I’m those things and I cannot change them. I’m an ever changing canvas just the same, but there’s some cuts and dents in the canvas that will always be there. Bad metaphor; my apologies.

I got the proof that my body is as back to normal as it can be. I’m not going to go into detail about all that. I cried. I did not understand why.

I have always been very self aware. I have always been able to take a step back and understand what I was feeling and why. I know why I’m feeling this way, but this time I cannot control my emotions. I’ve had the worst anxiety I have ever experienced the last few days. My heart beats fast, I get a knot in my throat, I feel like I cannot breathe. It all started after said proof was given.

It’s real now. It really happened. There’s no going back, only forward.

Yesterday I got over my pride and called to make an appointment for counseling.

I understand that this is my personal business that I’m sharing for the world to see. To some, that may be strange. The fact of the matter is, I do not share my experience for you to feel sorry for me or even for those who have not been through it to try to understand. I share my experience for those who have been through it too, to know that they are not alone, to know what they feel is normal. The amount of support that has been shown to me (and by people I’ve never even met in person even!) blows me away. That is why I’m sharing my experience. Thank you to those people.

Grief is normal. It is a different process for everyone and it may take some longer than others. It is NOT okay to tell someone to just be happy. It is NOT okay to tell someone to not talk about it either. When you go through something that is traumatic to any measure, you need to go through a healing process. It is not okay to linger in sadness, I’m not saying that. For me, I’m choosing to get help. I’m not ashamed. This is what I need to do for me. This is what I need to do to heal.