And there she hangs her head.

I know we will be blessed. When? I don't know. Probably when I least expect it. When we're not trying. When we're in the middle of a huge life change. In the meantime, I can only continue to prepare and organize as much as possible. 

baby dust

I am a little weepy. Today was a hard day for the community. Some close friends were affected by a tragic accident and 4 members of their family died. It is truly a tragedy. My emotions are close to the surface because they lived near my childhood home. Even though I only live five minutes away, there is something so real and emotional when someone from your home ward passes away, especially four innocent, worthy, perfect souls who had so much to live for.

I feel so grateful today. I'm grateful for the chance to live. I'm lucky to be a mom and I love having a little boy to call mine. He is my whole heart, and my whole life. His happiness is my happiness. If I am unable to conceive another baby, I am grateful to have experienced the journey with my greatest gift thus far in my life.

We have been eagerly trying, now for the third month. Time will tell if our efforts have any impact on the goal of getting pregnant.

Whelp.

This is the second month (not back to back) we've actively tried to conceive and haven't gotten pregnant. The first go around I think it was a matter of positional interference and, well, timing. This time, I blame it on my crazy month of December.

December was the month from Hades. I got my period on the 1st, and on the first day of dress rehearsal for the play I was in. My period was light, and finished before opening night, December 5th. Four weeks of craziness passed, then January 1st hit. I was driving and out of nowhere I felt sharp shooting pains in my abdomen. It was really a concern because I rarely feel cramps like that. So I kept a close look out for my period that was due any second. It never came, so I got suspicious that maybe I was pregnant! And that what I was feeling were implantation cramps.

My period was now a week late. I had an appointment at the Health and Welfare office coming up, so I decided if my period still hadn't shown up, I'd get blood drawn while I was there. I took three HPT and they all ready negative. So, when I went to my appt, I was 11 days late and my urine test immediately read negative. The nurse told me it probably had something to do with being around a lot of women the last two months. So my cycle was screwed up. When I got home, I finally relaxed about it, and within the next few hours, I got my period. GAHH. It was a bit of a relief though. I'm hardly ever late!

So tracking my cycles is my current struggle because some months I'm 28 days, but last month I was 37 days. I probably somehow missed my fertility window, and where Taylor was at drill during the few days I was fertile, I didn't have the greatest chance this last month.

I definitely want to keep at it because it's my life right now, but I'm afraid of the change in seasons, and how when I'm 3 months along, it will start to get warm outside, which is why I especially wanted to get pregnant earlier in winter rather than later. I HAVE to get pregnant this month, otherwise I may have to hold off until July, when the scorching summer is mostly over with. Heat and HG Do NOT go well together.

It is all about timing.

Life in the fat lane.

On top of taking a huge leap of faith by attempting to get pregnant again, I went ahead and decided to gain some weight in the meantime. That takes guts, if you know me, seeing as to how I've re-built my life around my new figure. I worked my butt off for a new figure that came ten years too late, three boyfriends too late, and after many many years of comparing myself to skinny girls at dance. I have self perception body issues stemming from adolescence, and now, almost 30, I'm in the greatest shape of my life, but in the past four weeks, I have given myself permission to let it all go. I'm not huge, fat, or overweight by any means. I'm maybe 8-10 lbs heavier than I was in December, but I feel differently as far as energy goes. I sweat a lot. My belly pooches. My dancer legs are filling out again. I'm always going to the bathroom, always drinking fluids, always sneaking calories in whatever form I can....I am doing all of this in the hopes that if HG hits in the next two weeks and I cannot hold any food down, I'll be prepared to go a few days without eating. Not weeks, but I can do days. 

I remember those first few hellish weeks of HG and how I was doing EVERYTHING wrong. I remember scarfing down a Frosty from Wendy's, and then puking it up a minute later. SLOW AND STEADY! I remember scouring my house with bleach to get rid of the cat pee smell. The combination was futile. NEVER AGAIN. I remember taking OTC Nausea medicine. It was cherry flavored and made me throw up before it hit my stomach. I WILL GET ZOFRAN BEFORE ANYTHING ELSE HAPPENS. I remember working every morning and not starting my day off with protein, but instead orange juice or hot chocolate. EAT PROTEIN AND NO EXTRA SUGAR. I remember getting blood drawn, like a normal person, but passing out two times like a sick person, and needing help driving home. I WILL NOT LET THAT MUCH BLOOD BE DRAWN, IF ANY AT ALL. I remember how my house was in total disarray, my finances were unorganized, and I was stuck wearing Richard and Jenna's clothes because my clothes were too stinky. I WILL ONLY WASH OUR CLOTHES IN WATER FOR THE FIRST FEW WEEKS SO I DON'T LOOK LIKE A ORPHAN WHEN I GO TO THE HOSPITAL. I full on expect to get sick, but I have done all that I can to make the first three months bearable. I full on intend to stay home as much as possible, even if it means not going to the doctor for blood samples or check ups...the best thing is to stay at home in the comfort of my own surroundings, where I can function as high or low as I feel like. All the while, looking fabulous in silky pajamas and designer maternity clothes that I've been eyeing. 

I won't expect myself to even step foot in the car, unless it's to get IV's. I expect home health to take over if it does get to that point. I won't expect myself to hang out near the toilet all day, fearing that if I don't run fast enough, I'll miss and make a huge mess everywhere. I will keep bowls and bags at my bedside for that very reason. 

I'm getting the gross stuff written out now, while I'm at full health. Who knows when or if the sickness is going to appear. All I know is I'm ready this time around. 

Here we go again. You know you wanna be my baby.

I'm trying to get fat. I maybe should have tried a little sooner, because I can only eat so much high fat and high carb foods before I feel bloated and feel awkward in my own clothes. Cramming is probably wreaking havoc on my digestive system. So, I'm carbo-loading tonight, because starting tomorrow I'm going off gluten. Then Wednesday I'm cutting back on dairy and trying to get variety with fruits and veggies.

I definitely feel ready, as I ignorantly type my impending doom due to upcoming HG. But for right now, I'm confident in my decision to put myself through the torture. It's not about me, it's about the baby. I've waited three years to do this all over again.

I'm currently taking:
Milk Thistle
Magnesium
B6
Multi-vitamins (gummy bears)

I'm not working. I'm done-so with all things Mystique, all things Mastercraft, all things DSDS, although it kills me to say. I took the plunge in honor of my wishes to begin this journey with as little stress as possible. My room is dark, clean, organized, and has a TV/DVD player + Netflix instant streaming. My bathroom is white, crisp, clean, and nothing like it was before. My basement is currently being remade into a TV/playroom haven to escape the heat this summer. My kitchen is organized and stocked with essentials, rid from any stinky items. My living room is arranged and airy and low-maintenance. My son's room is clean and his clothes are organized and put away. Our finances are organized and we are caught up on most of our debts. Taylor is set with a semester of school, working full-time, and occasional weekend work. I am a devoted wife and stay at home mom. I have the forms ready to fill out for MEDICAID, so as soon as I'm pregnant, hopefully we will qualify for it.

I anticipate getting nauseous immediately. I anticipate getting prescribed Zofran, possibly Prevacid, possibly Remeron, and it's likely I'll get IV's frequently.

For those first few weeks of feeling gross, I won't be listening to music, introducing any new smells, or eating any strong foods as to avoid those nasty aversions that turn stuff I love into stuff I can't handle. It's cold so I will step outside, open windows, and do whatever it takes to help clear my head. I'll keep a bag or bowl near me at all times so I don't feel obliged to run to a toilet every time I feel the urge to purge. If I'm feeling terrrrrible, and if nothing is working, I can either call my mom, or take my son around the corner to daycare, where he loves to hang out anyway.

My window of fertility is this week. So, fingers crossed our efforts work out this time.

Finally

The time is getting closer.

I am *days* away from creating another life. Tonight was my last night quote working unquote at Mystique, which was the biggest event of my year (somehow.) That, and my part-time job (that turned into full time) kept me occupied these past four months.

I wanted to wait until June, but then I turned 29 years old last month and felt strongly that enough was enough. No more waiting. Especially not for these projects that can be done without me.

I was set to get pregnant in January, then out of nowhere Taylor gets a quasi-job offer on the other side of the country. He really wants to pursue it. It means moving. It means packing up our house, selling what doesn't fit, move across the country and hope that our house sells. And it means doing it within a two-week time span.

We don't know one hundred percent that it's a for sure deal. It's likely, but not guaranteed. So, that means even though I'm mentally and emotionally prepared to be pregnant, the prospect of moving throws a wrench in my plans.

So, with my ONE week off coming up (first break in over a year) I fully intend to get as much sorted out as possible so that I am set to be sick and pregnant by February.

November 7, 2013

I want to have a baby.

Two months into my 9 month job and I'm ready to be done so I can be a stay at home sick pregnant mom. I honestly LOVE my job. I LOVE my life right now. I'm getting so much done and enjoying so much about having an almost 3 year old, I seriously go to bed with a grin every night. We play in the mornings, eat lunch together, clean up, then I take him to day care and I go to work for 6 hours. We're all home by 8 pm. We eat dinner, I watch Grey's Anatomy late into the night, while my boys are dozing peacefully in their beds. My house is clean and cozy and I try out new recipes every few days hoping my child will like it.

I am petrified to try again. I cannot end up in the hospital and the thought of that happening causes so much anxiety, along with the prospects of other stresses that are likely to happen. But having been a survivor, I remember the sweet reward that comes from the stressful sickness. It is such a burden on my life, and yet it is the greatest present I could possibly receive. I would miss out on Christmas festivities and joy, but I would be blessed beyond with the gift of carrying the greatest gift from God.

We are so broke right now. We were faced with a renting crisis two months ago that nearly depleted all of our savings, as well as all of our future earnings. Our renter left us empty-handed, we had to pay multiple rents, and we are now just barely catching up on all our other bills. Together, we having about $400 to our name, and about $20,000 in debt. We decided to move back into our home and pick up right where we left off. October was spent in crisis-mode, but hopefully by the end of November, we will be back up on our feet running. In retrospect, not getting pregnant in July was an enormous blessing. I truly believe in the Lord's timing of all things. If we are meant to get pregnant this time around, then I have faith that the Lord will unleash the beast and I'll be sick before I know it.

Logistics aside, November could be a great month to re-group, reorganize, and re-try to get back on the baby train. I entertain the idea that the fear of getting sick is worse than the actual sickness itself. The emptiness of my womb and arms is worse than the emptiness of my stomach and energy. I have a great support system. It's known and expected that I'll get terribly sick. I almost just need to rip off the bandaid instead of wait, just to find that all this time I've been slowly taking it off, that I've lost my chance to carry babies. This month I turn 29. I've waited as long as I have needed to to be a mom.

I want to have a baby.