God doesn't trust you more....

There's a statement I hear often:
At baby blessings, at fast and testimony meetings for the LDS church, and various other places.
"I am just so grateful that God trusted me enough to be [insert baby's name here] mom."
I know it's not out of malice. But you guys... think about it. Think about what you're saying. You are unintentionally saying, "God trusts me to be a mom, but not you." It's hurtful. There's one thing I've come to resent in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. It's how much we idolize motherhood.

For the last 4 mother's days I've been forced to sit in a sacrament meeting where they honor mothers with a flower or a chocolate. I've been, what seems to be, singled out. I get it, moms are important. I'm not discounting that. We are meant to build the church with our posterity. However, sometimes, we take it a little too far.

I've listened to General Conference talks where someone says "Motherhood is the most important thing you'll do in this life." "Motherhood is the only thing you've been given time for." ect. The problem is, not everybody gets to be a mom in this life. That is fact. When things like that are said, it tells women who are barren: They aren't as valuable as moms. They couldn't possibly contribute more to the kingdom of God than those who are mothers. Again, I understand it isn't out of ill intentions. But you guys- This is 100% real.

We are creating a culture where it isn't okay to be a childless LDS. We are causing far more problems than we realize. I have gone home from church more times than I can count and cried my eyes out. All because of someone who had good intentions of saying how awesome moms are, but instead hurt people because we believe the only thing we could possibly do in this life is be a mom.

I hear it all the time. I hear it when I'm at the grocery store. I hear it at school. I hear it at work. I hear it at family functions.

I am treated like a second class citizen. I feel like I have nothing in common with my friends because they all have 2 kids. My science teacher flat out said to us, the goal is to get married so we can have kids, because we want our kids to have our genes.

Again, I get it, moms are cool. Motherhood is awesome. But for some of us, we won't get to experience that. We won't get to be moms. We can't afford to be moms.

When I hear things like that, it makes me want to shut down. Sometimes it even makes me want to punch you in the face(not in an mean way, but like in a I mean this in a good way way)

New Year

Well, another year has come and gone in the blink of an eye.
  For the most part it has anyway. I can remember very well New Year's Eve of 2014. Though surrounded by great friends... my heart was broken. I remember laying in bed with Chris that night saying " 2015 is going to be our year."
     In 2014, things had just fallen into place like I had hoped. I had landed a job I could do forever and was so extremely happy at it, then we had made the tough decision to move from our home we had grown to love in Utah back to our real home in Idaho. I knew it would be the right thing. I Remember feeling so much peace. Only days after our decision we found out I was pregnant, and I just knew that we were making the right decision. Things were just the way they were supposed to be. Then obviously things went south shortly after that.
    Flash forward to the end of the year, I was angry, heartbroken, and lost. My testimony I had grown over the past few years had all but diminished. I wondered how God could make, not only me, but anybody feel this kind of pain? How could he watch me suffer while I begged for answers? I prayed for closure, I prayed for wisdom, and I prayed for a miracle. I couldn't begin to understand why this would happen to me, or anybody, with the righteous desire to start a family. In those last few minutes of 2014 I remember being relieved that it was almost over.
    That turned into weeks, months, and now it's been a year. I find myself asking-- when will this nightmare end?
   Maybe it won't. Maybe it will. Whether or not it does... I'll survive. 2015 is not a year I'd like to relive. You can call me pessimistic, ungrateful, or cynical. Truth is... maybe I am. We are now on the downward slope of struggling to start a family for 3 years. In 6 months it will be THREE. YEARS. What have you done with your life in the last 3 years? Can you imagine living without anything in your life for the last 3 years? I can't, but I do every day.
    2016. I hope you don't disappoint. I hope I can finally say, I've made it... I never thought I would but I did. I hope I can say, that trial has grown my testimony ten fold. I hope I can sit on January 1st, 2017 and think to myself I know this year will be great. I hope whatever path God chooses for me that I will learn to be okay with it.
   I can't and I won't say that for 2016, but I hope and pray that it is.
 

Holiday Cheer

There's a few things  you should know about someone who is going through infertility during the holidays.

They probably won't be very cheerful. The truth is that the holidays are just another reminder for them that they don't have children to be thankful for or to buy gifts for or to take to see Santa.
People ask you what you want for Christmas and you painfully fake a smile and say "Oh I don't know" when every single night you beg God that if he would just answer your prayer you wouldn't ask for another thing again.

And I mean... for some reason pregnancy and baby annoucements literally feel like they DOUBLE during the holidays. You see posts about how so and so is thankful that God trusted them to be a mother on Thanksgiving or that the joy of seeing their kids on Christmas morning is nothing to be compared to.

Sometimes it's hard to admit that we aren't okay. Lately I've been feeling like there is so much pressure from society and especially our church to "just buck up and move on." I find myself feeling so absolutely broken inside but because it's not okay to not be okay. Because we were meant to be happy, and I absolutely believe that. I think the pressure gets to be too much and sometimes I just explode, I find myself being mad at everything for days at a time and I honestly believe it's because I feel like I'm not allowed to be sad. That I am ungrateful if I have a day where I just feel like I don't want to get out of bed because I'm feeling down and like life just isn't fair.

Another reason why the holidays are so hard is because every year we say "By this time next year we will have a little baby," which only makes it harder. It's a reminder of how many Christmases and Anniversaries we have celebrated while not being able to start a family of our own. You surely think you won't be in the same situation next year, but somehow you're stuck. Your life isn't progressing the way it's supposed to be at this point.

I encourage you to take a moment and reach out to those who you know may be going through this during this holiday season. Tell them you love them and that you hope they get everything that they want this year, because I can gaurantee a baby is the top of their list. Rememeber that this time of year isn't always easy for everybody.

Help

Sometimes I like to pretend like I have my life together and that I'm okay. Then it all comes crashing down and hits me like a ton of bricks.

Last week, I was feeling pretty good. I was accepting the fact that I am going through this awful thing called infertility. I was coming to terms with the fact that maybe it might still just be Chris and I in 2016, 2017, and maybe even 2018. I had come to terms with the fact that maybe we will have to adopt. And I was okay with that. It sounds dramatic, but after 2 years you begin to realize that this might be your reality. I understand many women wait many many years longer than 2 years, but I don't believe that makes my struggle irrelevant.

So let me just walk you through this. I find this strength and I am fine for a couple days.... then a few days later I remember I've been lying to myself and I'm not okay with it. I am a crazy lunatic who feels like I might explode because I can't keep pretending I'm okay. Because I'm not.

And you know what. That's perfectly okay. I believe I am justified to feel like I'm not okay. I don't think I have to pretend to be okay. Because maybe that's part of the lesson. Maybe I need to learn that I don't have to be okay. That I was given feelings to I don't know feel them. Maybe I need to learn to ask for help, because let's face it... If you know me, you know I'm beyond stubborn and I'm not going to ask for help because that's just not who I am.

I don't like feeling like a damsel in distress. I don't like admitting that I am in need of a shoulder to cry on. I have a hard time swallowing my pride and letting others help me.

I read an article the other day about miscarriage, infertility, and infant loss being the Voldemort of this life. That we must not talk about it or it give it more power.... If you don't understand that then you should probably read a Harry Potter book or two, I thought well isn't that true. It's like a taboo topic and it makes people uncomfortable, and I get it. A few years ago a couple friends and I sat down to lunch and we were talking about having kids.. one of my friends revealed that she had a miscarriage a few weeks prior and I sat there like an idiot and had no idea what to say. I remember going home and kicking myself in the rear for being so rude and not saying anything comforting to her. I remember wishing I could have said things and made the silence a lot less awkward and that I could have helped her. Now that I sit here and I am in almost the same shoes it makes me even more mad that I never really helped her. Sure I sent her a text a few days later and said how sorry I was and that I was here for her. But not I realize she probably needed someone to talk to, somebody to really be there for her.

I am not claiming to be perfect, but I try really hard to message and show those I know who are going through a hard time that I really am thinking about them. It could be as small as a picture of something funny or a chocolate bar or it could be as big as going over and cleaning their kitchen. I am not saying you have to drop your whole lives to help somebody. But do it. Go out and help somebody because I believe the biggest way to help yourself feel better about your trials is to go out and serve somebody else.

I guess what I am trying to say is that we all need help, and it's hard to ask for it, so be mindful that everybody needs someone to help them every now and then. And don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it.

Self esteem.

This post is going to get real personal. 

     If you knew me while I was growing up, it was no secret that I struggled with my self esteem. I was a tall girl in a world full of short boys. I can remember being teased about my height as early as 1st grade. Plus the older I got the wider I seemed to get. I wouldn't necessarily say that I was over weight I just wasn't a tiny girl like most of my friends. In 6th grade as we were ordering our dare shirts, I remember telling my teacher what size I needed and he told me that he knew I was going to be too big for that size. 

      It wasn't until my Senior year of high school I finally felt comfortbale in my own skin. I wasn't being teased about my height anymore and all the boys had caught up to me for the most part. I remember feeling like I finally felt like I fit in. This lasted for the next few years. I felt like I was content with who I was and the skin I was in. 

     Then we started trying to get pregnant. Each and every month felt like a chisel was taking a bit of my self esteem little by little. I noticed it, but I felt like it would all go away once I finally got pregnant. It took us 10 months to get pregnant the first time, and I remember feeling relief that I finally would feel okay with myself again. And I did. 

     But like you've heard, this story doesn't end well. Just 7-8 weeks in I miscarried. This time it took almost every ounce of my self esteem it could possibly take. I felt like what is wrong with me that I can't do what God sent me here to do. Why isn't my body good enough to do what it is intended to do. It's a funny thing, I never would have thought it would make me feel this way, but it does. It absolutely makes you feel like less of a woman. I then proceeded to gain 20-30 pounds. Talk about esteem killer. I literally felt like I woke up one morning and I was an infertile obese woman, and there was nothing I could do about it. The energy it took out of me was unreal. I just wished so badly that I could be the me I used to be. I wanted to feel like the woman I knew I was and that I knew my husband had fallen in love with. It was a hard pill to swallow. I don't really have a conclusion to where this should end, and maybe that's because I am still trying to over come this certain trial. Maybe there will be a part two to this post, but for now it's still unwritten. 

    I hope and pray that those of you struggling know you aren't alone. It's an awful club to be apart of, but I know you can find love and peace from somebody going through the same thing. God loves you, even when you don't love you. 

One year

One year later. One year since my miscarriage. 

I'm not going to lie, a year snuck up on me...and yet it didn't. I knew that it would be easier to deal with day to day, but as a whole it still stings. 

I never thought I would be sitting here writing this down. A year ago if you asked me where I'd be I would have told you I knew for sure that I'd have a sweet baby in my arms, or at least growing in my belly. I never thought I'd be sitting here on medications STILL trying to get pregnant. But of course you never think it's going to be you. 

1 in 8. Did you know that's how many couples struggle with infertility? That came as a surprise to me. Chris and I have a tight knit group of friends. There's about 6 or 7 couples we hang out with on a regular basis. That means the odds were that at least 1 out of us 8 couples were going to be a statistic. Now I'm not speaking for those other couples because I don't know what they went through to bring their little ones here, but I never thought in a million years we would be that couple. 

I never thought we would struggle this much. Life is hard. Everybody has trials, I'm not saying mine are harder than yours. But dang. 2 years later and I'm sitting in my quiet home, no messes to clean, no baby to snuggle. Realatively speaking 2 years is a short amount of time. But that's two years of baby annoucements, blessings, baby showers, and two years of struggling. It's such a weird thing. It gets easier to accept, but it's not easier to deal with. It still hurts every single day, but it doesn't consume all your thoughts all day every day. That probably doesn't even make sense unless you've been there. 

I know a lot of couples struggling with this. My heart literally breaks and hurts for them. A lot of the time I feel selfish for my feelings because I'm like wait-- so and so has been waiting 4, 5, heck even 8 years for this and I've been waiting 2... big deal. That's the thing is my pain isn't any less than theirs, sure it's different but I still have the right. It's an awkward thing to talk about, but I always try to ask my friends how they're doing and things are progressing because even though it's a sensitive and private subject it really does make you feel so much better to know somebody is thinking about you. 

This post is all over the place. That's pretty much where my thoughts are. I can't seem to keep them organized. That's like a day in the life of me. I encourage you to reach out to a friend of yours you know is struggling with this and say, "hey I know this sucks, but I'm here for you.. let's eat an entire tub of ice cream and watch chick flicks for a night." Because as cliche as it sounds, that's probably what she wants to do. 

"People don't always need advice. Sometimes all they need is a hand to hold, an ear to listen, and a heart to understand them." 

Okay..

Here's what I've learned from having a miscarriage.

- There's SO many people going through the same thing-- you will feel alone, but I promise you aren't.

- It is different for everybody, yet all the same.

-Talking about it really does help. Its a hard subject to bring up, but if you do you'll feel a lot better.

-God doesn't make mistakes, there's a reason why this happened to you.

-It will make you or it will break you... let it make you.

-It's HARD. Plain and simple.

-The pain will never go away, and it shouldn't. Your baby died. You should remember them always. The pain will be easier to deal with, but it will never go away.

-You will love every baby that comes in your path, but it will still be painful to look at them and think "my baby should have been ___ old."

- Every pregnancy and birth hurts, but makes you so happy at the same time.

-You will feel like the World's biggest jerk for having feelings of jealousy and bitterness towards other women who are experiencing what you want most.

-It will take a long time for your hormones to balance themselves... like legitimately here I am 10 months later and I was put on a medication to balance my hormones because they haven't done so by themselves.

-You will go for days where you're completely fine, and you will go for days where you're sure that you can't take it any longer.

-It can strengthen your marriage. LET IT!

-You're going to be okay. I PROMISE you that.

      Believe me, I'm the first to admit there were (and sometimes still are) days that I just feel like I can't go on any longer. How am I going to make it?  Sometimes I just want to lie in my bed and do nothing for an entire week, but you know what? I can't. That's the funny/not so funny thing about life. It goes on. I'm not saying that you should just get over it, because I definitely don't believe that. Like I said, your baby died, that's definitely worth remembering and grieving over, there's no doubt about that. But I promise you God wouldn't make you suffer this pain without an end in sight. It might not be tomorrow, heck it might not even be in this life, but the day will come. God doesn't make mistakes, you were made exactly how you were meant to be made. Your trials were mapped out before you were even born. Learn from them, and let them make you. You can make it.