Post Partum Depression

As I am laying on a bed in my hotel room while on vacation with the world's best family I am crying inside for a woman that I don't know and her two beautiful children. There was a time in my life when I truly believed that moments like this would never happen. That I would never be happy again.  I didn't want to get up in the morning and believed that I had ruined my perfect family by adding a son that I just could not handle. With the help of my husband, my mom, and some really wonderful friends I got through the fog into the sunshine and realized that I am the luckiest mom on the planet. But I often wonder where I would have been without all those people who knew that something wasn't quite right. I do not think for a second that I could have harmed my children but really what mother does think so?  I did not have the psychosis part of post partum depression but in comparison to the many people I have met since that diagnosis my depression was diagnosed very early. I had the support of family and friends until the meds kicked in and I became myself again. So I try not to think about what could have happened but moments like this make me fearful. Obviously we are missing something in the process of post partum depression. Yes we get those pamphlets that tell you all about it but we need to do more. Every caregiver, family member, and friend should be on the look out for moms who are hurting. And we need to stop the stigma so that moms can ask for the help that they need. Let's stop this heartbreaking illness and protect all the moms and their children. My thoughts are with the family of Lisa Gibson. She was a pharmacist with a toddler daughter and a newborn son. She was a woman who sounds a lot like me. I'm so sorry that this has happened to you and your family. 

With hope, the odds don't matter

Life is filled with statistics.  And Scott and I talk about statistics all the time.  He works with cancer patients on a regular basis, I have a health care background, and we spent a lot of time trying to make life decisions based on statistics provided by fertility specialist.  And what we have come up with is that statistics don't really matter if you are on the other side.  If they give you a 99% success rate and you are the 1% who does not succeed, what did that statistic really mean to you?

When I started writing this blog, people would always comment that I shouldn't share such personal information so publicly.  So, for a while, I tried to write my blog but change names or places to create anonymity.  You never know who is going to read it...you know.  But I can't write it if it doesn't come from my heart.  And it can't come from my heart if I am pretending to be someone else.

Today I was contacted by a complete stranger who read my blog.  It happens more than you would think.  But this time I am happy to say that I have written from my heart and that something in my blog stood out enough for this person to contact me.  And she shared her personal experience with me.  And that experience hit home.  It made me cry.  And it filled me with hope. 

I hope you feel the same.  Thank you Heather!!!  

Please check out this link:

With hope, the odds don't matter

Hugs on Mother's Day

On my fifth "real" Mother's Day I am being spoiled by my amazing family. I am awaiting my breakfast in bed made by chefs Scoff and Lily while enjoying some Little Einsteins and cuddling with Jack. I no longer require KFC on Mother's Day. I guess I have finally moved forward from my desperate need for that chicken when watching those commercials throughout my many painful years as an infertile and childless woman. I think Scott was surprised when I didn't ask for our annual KFC celebration and instead requested his masterpiece French onion soup. 

Mother's Day is truly a well deserved holiday. Mothers are amazing creatures. They have magic kisses and eyes in the back of their heads. They have the ability to find something in the closet after everyone else has already looked. This day is truly deserved. Happy Mother's Day to all the truly amazing mothers in my life. 

You may have noticed that I started this blog saying that this was my fifth "real" Mother's Day. My first Mother's Day was two days after my first embryo transfer. On that day I spent a lot of time with my hand on my belly begging the powers that be to let that baby grow so that Mother's Day would count. Unfortunately it was not to be. The sting of that memory and many other heart breaking Mother's days helps me to remember all the amazing women who have not yet had the opportunity to sprout those eyes on the back of their heads. I am positive that they too have magic kisses but have not had the opportunity to test them out yet. 

Through my choice to share these personal and painful experiences I have been able to surround myself with women who have had similar experiences. I know moms who have lost their newborns. Moms who are celebrating their very first Mother's Day at this moment. Moms who used donor eggs. And donor sperm. Moms who found out through experience that you don't have to give birth to a baby to love them. Moms who are pregnant with their first today. Moms who have lost babies. A mom who finally completed her fertility journey to find herself fighting a cancer diagnosis. And one mom who had an embryo transfer yesterday and is the exact reason I felt the need to write this blog. I am so fortunate to have my family and I think about that every single day. But I work hard to remember the journey in hopes that it wasn't for nothing. And in hopes that my experiences can help those experiencing unimaginable pain on this day. 

Happy Mother's Day to all current mothers. And future mothers. Hugs to everyone feeling the sting of childlessness today. May your journey be close to the end. And may you find yourself joy and peace. 

A life well lived

How many times have you seen the quote, "Live life to the fullest"?  I know we all try to follow it, but sometimes actual life gets in the way.  I do know one man who truly lived life to the fullest.  A man who filled a spot in my heart that became empty with the loss of my own father and grandfathers.  For everyone, living life to the fullest means something different.  But to Papa it meant loving, learning, and embracing.  I think I learned more from this man in our visits than I did in my whole university career.  His stories were like life lessons that were put into my very soul without having to learn them on my own.  Whether it was the story of how he met his soul mate and how it changed his life.  Or what to tell the contractor that was working on our basement. Or his view point on a war in which the white men were scalped by the native people...and how we really have to examine events like that because even though scalping is cruel and dramatic, it meant so much more to the people who were doing it.  And maybe those being scalped shouldn't have been there even though it shaped our current society.  He taught me to examine both sides of history and to actually feel what it would have been like to be on either side.  And when we had our many talks about my new job and how scary it was to once again be jumping into an entirely new role, he had tons of pieces of advice on how to address each part right down to my favorite, "Wear a low cut dress to that meeting.  A beauty like you will really get their attention."  Or his love of the Western Development Museum.  A place I had been a hundred times before.  It became a completely different adventure learning about it from the perspective of someone who had seen many of those things with his own very eyes.  And he didn't just tell those stories.  He spoke with such passion that I often feel like I lived his stories as well.  When we named our son Jack, Papa was so excited.  When Scott told him the news on the phone, I could hear him from across the hospital room.  I am so glad that we were able to give him that moment.  And every time he was around the kids, he would tell everyone in sight that Jack was named after  him.  He would show off both of our kids to anyone who would listen. Papa loved.  He loved life.  He loved family.  He loved a good story.  Granny made his eyes sparkle in a way that every woman wants to be adored.  He lost that sparkle on the day that she died.  It became a bit of my own personal vendetta to bring that sparkle back even if it was just for moments in time. I saw that sparkle while he watched the owl at the zoo.  I teased him that I could take him to a real sod house and I saw that sparkle when he saw that house at the museum.  But seeing our kids brought that sparkle to his eyes each and every time.  I am so happy that our kids got to know this wonderful man.  No matter what kind of day he had or how he was feeling, he would always want a giant bear hug from our kids. He touched their hearts like he touched mine.  I am so happy that I had the opportunity to know Papa.  And I can't wait until my own Jack is older so I can share with him all the reasons why we chose his name.
Letting go of someone so wonderful is a challenge.  But it gives me a sense of peace to know it was a life well lived.

Little person in a big person body

I'm on a diet. I have been on a diet pretty much at least once every year since I graduated from high school. I have tried every diet. When someone asks about a diet the first thing they ask is, "Did you keep the weight off?". Of course I didn't. No one ever does. If you have ever seen those shows on TLC where someone is lifted through a hole made in their ceiling, with the help of a crane the individual is taken to the hospital. That's me. No seriously, I can totally understand how that could happen. If I didn't diet at least once per year I would require the crane lift.
Oddly those of us who have dieted all think we are failures at dieting. What I just realized is that if going on a diet every once in a while keeps me within a range that I am happy with, does that not mean that I am actually a success?
So...stop beating yourself up and pat yourself on the back. Us dieters have to put in extra work to not need the crane lift. Be proud that you are strong enough to recognize when you need to start watching those calories again. And quit saying...damn I gained it back again. As far as I can tell, everyone gains it back.
Be proud that you know your body enough to know when it's time to become smaller. And stop thinking you have failed!!!! No matter how much I weigh I am a little person in a big person's body. Because I can guarantee that I could always be bigger.

You are absolutely right. Life is not fair

While enjoying my last few days in paradise I have been thinking about the saying, "wish you were here". We have all said it. Sometimes we mean it but other times it's the opportunity to give someone the elbow and let them know that you are somewhere incredible...and they are not. We have all at one point or another thought to ourselves that life is not fair. It is not fair that I was born with the fairest skin on the planet and Lily has skin to die for. It is not fair that I am currently regretting at least the last hour of my fun at the beach and that when I look in the mirror I resemble a tomato, a stop sign, and a can of coke. Lily on the other hand has tanned remarkably. Not a single burn but the most amazing tan lines on that little bum. It is not fair that people with that same beautiful brown skin are victims of racism and jokes. That it is assumed they aren't as smart or successful or kind. Life really isn't fair. Take a moment and think about the last time you thought that life isn't fair. Is there someone less fortunate than you who would take you up on that unfairness. I'm sad to be leaving my vacation in a few days. It's not fair that there are people lucky enough to live here all the time. They probably think its not fair that I get to lay around on the beach all day (definitely shorter tomorrow). And then there are the people who have never been here. That's not fair either. There is always someone who would take what we have. Someone less fortunate than me. It is not fair that no matter how much I try to explain how time changes work, my kids get up at the crack of dawn. But I am so very lucky to hear those little feet coming down the hallway. Okay. Let's be honest. As I roll over and look at my watch I feel a little unlucky just for a moment...but I am so lucky to be their mom. And while I am not lucky to have the whitest skin on the planet, Jack was equally unlucky to inherit it from me. I am incredibly lucky that he is not burnt like me. He's more the color of pink lemonade, cotton candy, or bubblicious. And because he is lemonade and I am tomato, we will both actually get some sleep tonight. I am not perfect. Far from it. But I am asking you to take a moment when "life's not fair" crosses your mind and really think how unfair it actually is. And maybe your "unfairness" isn't actually so bad.
Oh....and one last thing. Wish you were here. I really do.

Innocence

A child is pure innocence. So what if I joke that Jack is pure terror. Even he is as innocent as can be. I am amazed and disappointed and saddened and angered when I hear that another child has been hurt by an adult. I do not understand how you could look down at that adorable face and want to do them harm. Children completely depend on us to be their role model. I feel bad when I choose a night out with friends when I should have spent it with my children. Or if I miss family day at school. Or if I can't be there to hold their hand for vaccinations. I am completely filled with guilt when I realize I made a bad parenting choice. How does someone purposely harm a child? I just can't wrap my mind around it. This innocence is worth protecting. If you ever think a child may be in danger it is your responsibility to protect them. We need to all band together to make a difference. Children have this amazing resilience about them. I watched a video of Lily learning to skate. She fell way more than she stood and there was minimal skating going on. But she kept getting up over and over again. She wanted to skate so badly. When is the last time you got back up that many times or tried that hard? Honestly, I can't remember putting in that much effort ever. And she watched me watching that video and when I was done I turned and smiled about to tell her how proud I am of her. And she looked at me sadly and told me she wasn't a good skater. And when I hugged her and told her that I thought she was incredible, she told me that was good because she loves it. Inspite of falling a million times and knowing that she wasn't very good (yet) she loves skating. That was the lesson of the day for me...for sure. No one loves doing things they aren't good at. But maybe we should. I think I'm going to reconsider some activities based on that lesson. I think it's going to open up my world a little. Children are amazing. Don't ever take them for granted. They are sponges who see everything you do. But most of all, they have the most amazing things to teach you. Open up your heart and learn.