"Not what we say about our blessings, but how we use them, is the true measure of our thanksgiving." ~Unknown

I have been thinking a lot about the changes coming into our lives, and the implications of those changes. Our lives are about to do a complete 180. Not only will our sleep schedule change, but even our thinking processes will change. It is no longer about the two of us, and what we want, but what is best for our child. If I research the best car seat, and which, if any, vaccinations I want my kid to have, and choose the crib, based on safety reviews, why would I not think beyond the physical? I will be held accountable not only for how safe I keep him, but how I raised him. It is my job to help mold his character, and to teach him principles and lessons that will last a lifetime.

I am learning that you see everything differently as a parent. You see through the lenses of safety and health, of teaching and learning and being an example. Henry is not even here yet, and I find myself thinking, what behaviors do I want him to model? How do I teach him those? I want him to learn patience. Ok, so that means I can't get upset with the driver who is taking forever to make the turn, or grumble about the line at walmart. What are my other options? How do I teach patience? How would I be an example? To model patience in my own life, I would simply ignore the slow driver - you never know, he could be keeping you from a wreck up the road, etc. In the Walmart line, instead of sighing, and tapping my toes, and having a generally bad attitude, use it as an opportunity. Show character, and even Christ, in the situation. Smile at those comrades in line with you, they don't want to be there either. Don't be upset with the cashier - They are going as fast as they can.

I use those examples, because both of them happened to me today. I practiced patience, and I was actually blessed because of it. Instead of leaving walmart in a bad mood, I was put in a better state of mind, because I gave a grandma an opportunity to brag about her grand babies. She was beaming, telling me about them. No, I did not know her, and I would not recognize her if I saw her again, but she made me smile, and I gave her an opportunity to think about something good. For all I know, she was having a really bad day, and she needed to be able to talk about something she loves.

One of the biggest, and most important things I want to teach Henry is love for God. I never want him to be ashamed of faith. He could end up being more of an introvert, like Cameron, but even introverts need to show the love of Jesus to those around them. I have been feeling challenged in this lately. I want to be the best example I can be to my child. In order to do that, I have to be where I need to be spiritually. Henry may never feel free to share, or talk about his faith, if it is never modeled before him. I want him to study the Word, so I have to make it more of a priority in my own life, so when he is grown up, he remembers seeing me actively following my faith, and not just in theory.

Today, in walmart, I was given an opportunity to stretch myself a bit. There was a lady with a very cute toddler in her basket. I passed them, and the toddler started talking to me. She showed me her toothbrush, and smiled a smile that would melt anyone's heart. I smiled back, but kept my distance. As both of us continued to shop, we ended up meeting in the middle of every single aisle. We laughed, and started talking. She was sending her youngest off to college, and I am just having my first. We were in two different places in life. She asked about the baby, his name, when I was due, etc. She asked if I had felt kicks yet, and she got a little nostalgic, remembering her own baby kicks. I could have smiled and moved on at this point, but something inside me told me to continue. It was not just me wanting to talk about my baby. It came from deep inside. I have had this feeling before, and I have to say, I have ignored it many times. Today, I chose to go with it. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out "I am a Christian, and I love Jesus. This is a miracle baby." I continued, telling her, in as few words a possible, that I was told I would never have my own children. I told her the reader's digest version of our IVF experience, and how it is simply a miracle. "I do not believe abortion is right, no matter what, but having been through this, and now, experiencing life inside me, and being in awe at the miracle in our lives, I can only thank God, and say, that life is a blessing in and of it's self, and it is sacred." This lady, right in the shampoo aisle, started crying. Not knowing really how to handle the situation, I said, "I'm sorry. I don't even know you, and here I am telling you my story." She responded, "No, I am so glad you did. You never know what God has in store for this child. To be able to tell your story is a blessing to others. Thank you."

Will I ever know why I felt such a great need to share with this stranger? Probably not. Did it make a huge difference in her life? Most likely, no. If I were to guess, she was also a Believer, so I probably did not help to lead her to salvation. It does not matter though. For whatever reason, I did share, and it did not hurt anything. If nothing else, two strangers connected in walmart, two women, with seemingly nothing in common shared the love of God with each other. The lights did not flicker, and nothing powerful happened to speak of, but that shampoo aisle became church. God was honored, His name was exalted, and I personally left with a feeling of fullness, of gratitude. I could have ignored that feeling, and had a perfectly wonderful day. Actually, my day probably would have been more productive, because I would be cleaning my house, instead of writing this post. Had I done that, I would have missed not only being a blessing, but receiving a blessing.

As I said, I have felt challenged in this area lately, and this could have very well been an opportunity for me to share in a very small way. Baby steps. I hope I have more opportunities like this one. After all, I want to model this behavior to Henry. I want him to see daily, ordinary interactions with God. I want him to understand that God is not dead. He lives and moves in our world, every day, everywhere. Rather you are in Walmart, or the church sanctuary, he can make an appearance. You just have to be open to it.

"What heights of love, what depths of peace, when fears are stilled, when strivings cease!" ~Stuart Townend

It's been a while since I posted anything. I have had several amazing moments since my last post, but I will not try to remember them all, or bore you with the minute details. The biggest thing to happen: We found out 'Baby J' is a BOY.

At 17 weeks, we were a bit let down, because we were expecting an ultrasound from the Dr., and we were planning a great gender reveal party, etc. BUT, no ultrasound was done at the appointment. It would be over a month until I would have an ultrasound from the Dr. Being the impatient people we are, we were discussing our feelings about not knowing the sex of the baby. We were in the car, on the way to Copan to hang out with his parents at the campground. Cam mentioned something about getting an ultrasound from a baby place, and not the Dr. I told him I thought it was to expensive. However, I looked up the nearest location, which was in Owasso. Seeing that you could get a great deal, we decided to give them a call, just out of curiosity. We tried to book an appointment for the next day, but one was not available. "We do have another option for you though." The lady on the phone said. "We just had a cancellation, and we can get you in at 6 tonight. Would that work??" We took the appointment, turned the car around, and headed that way. We were in Copan already, so we made it just in time for our appointment. We looked like hillbillies. We had not planned to go to the Dr., we were dressed for a night of camping and fishing.

The technician was not even phased by our appearance, and we were treated wonderfully. I was told to drink lots of fluids so we would for sure be able to see the sex of the baby. I took that quite literally, and I downed a route 44 ice water on the way to the appointment. I was about to burst. We went into the exam room, and immediately got things started. She pressed the wand onto my abdomen, and thought I would explode. I took one for the team though, and held myself together for the examination. The very first thing we saw when the image appeared on the giant screen in front of us was the baby's man parts. We laughed about him not being shy, and Cam was very proud that his son was so 'endowed'. That was a surreal moment for me. Of course, I loved the baby before, and I thought of it as being alive, and human. This experience, knowing that I had a son, being able to picture a specific person in my daydreaming, that was amazing. I experienced instant bonding with this tiny life. I'm not sure I can describe the exact emotion I was feeling, or successfully communicate to you the complete awe and wonder that came over me, but it was an experience I will never forget.

It was so unexpected, and out of the blue. Everything about our pregnancy up to this point had been planned and calculated, literally down to the minute. Shots and pricks and probes, tests, schedules and analysis. While it was just as meaningful as other pregnancies, the whole thing had an almost sterile, mechanical feel to it. It was so wonderful to have something spontaneous happen. To wake up that morning, expecting a normal day, and to go to bed that night, knowing I would be having a boy. It was special, just between Cam and me. No one else knew we were doing it, no one was expecting news, or calling us for results. It was just us. Up to this point, it was not about this child specifically, but about simply creating life. It was about maintaining this life. I don't think I even admitted this out loud, but I expected to loose the baby. I knew something would go wrong with the pregnancy. When we paid for the procedure, we chose the 'insurance' buy one, get one plan. This meant that if I miscarried the baby, I would have 6 months to be able to do the procedure again, for free. Considering the price of IVF, it seemed a smart option. After all, most people do not have success on their first try. I would think in my mind, if something goes wrong, just let it happen early. Let me loose this baby in the 6 month window, so I can start again. While, I was in love with the life inside me, and I was not wanting anything to happen to it, part of me did not believe it could last. It was to good to be true. After everything I had been through, after the letdowns and challenges of the past year, it was hard to let myself really think of this baby as a person. What if I lost it?

That June day, when I saw my baby, when we got those little blue bracelets, and cam and I looked into each other's eyes, I knew. I knew it would be ok. I knew we would be keeping HIM. He was so active, and actually cute. He has a button nose, that is absolutely adorable in the profile pictures we have. He has long limbs, and most of all, he is perfectly healthy. Yes, both of us were a bit disappointed we were not having a girl ( - someone in our family needs to have a girl, there are 10 baby boys in our family right now, and Jannie is the only girl {and, she is adopted}) but it didn't matter. My dreams of pink, while still there for some day, receded to the back of my mind. Almost instantly, I pictured our life with a boy. I pictured Cam teaching him to golf, and to be a gentleman. I pictured sporting events, and me being 'that mom' in the stands. My whole world just automatically shifted, and my SON became the center of it.

We went through a couple of names before deciding on Henry Boyd Jarrett. Of course, I had to ask my dear friend's permission to use the name, her son is named Henry as well. I was not sure of the name for us, but Cam loves it, and I didn't dislike it. Cam was excited to be able to call his son "Hank," and I nearly had a heart attack. Hank is the name of an old man with no teeth left, playing banjo on the porch of a run-down gas station. That would not be the name of my sweet little boy. I was not going to allow it. However, both our moms liked the nickname, and several people referred to him as Hank. A few weeks went by, and wouldn't you know it... I actually called him Hank without any prompting. I still think of him as Henry, and I will use that name most of the time, but I will not cringe when he gets called Hank. After all, I actually like banjo music.

Yesterday was the 24 week mark in our pregnancy. I had not had feelings of worry over Henry since finding out he was a boy. It was a relief though, knowing that if something happened, and he was born early he would most likely be ok. Of course, all first moms over-analyze the changes happening in their bodies, but that is normal worry. I have had such a feeling of peace about it all. All of my stress is over taking care of a baby - meaning, I KNOW he is going to be here, and ok. I still stress about doing everything right, and I research every aspect of birth, and taking care of a newborn. I have a birth plan completed, and I have read three separate baby books, not to mention the hundreds of articles online. I have always loved learning, and learning and researching something you are interested in is actually a lot of fun. Cam has always called me 'Data' (from Star Trek) because of my knowledge of random things, but he is now saying I might as well just go to school and become a Dr. because I know so much about the subject already. Some would call me obsessive, and I might be, but I don't care. Knowledge is power, and I want to be 'Super Mom.' (ok well, not really, but... kinda?)

Having said that, I will tell you, I am terrified. My research helps reassure me that I will theoretically know what to do with this kid, but I keep picturing the changes and the great unknown of parenthood, and I get sweaty palms. Of curse, I will have help, and I know that my instincts will kick in, it's not like I have never taken care of a baby before. That does not negate my fear of change, or the unknown. I voiced those fears to Cam, and he surprised me. He is not scared even a little bit. He has the personality that just goes with the flow. No sense in worrying about what may happen. We will deal with things when they come up. He is so good for me. Opposites really do attract, and it is for situations just like this.

Whether your pregnancy was meticulously planned, medically coaxed, or happened by surprise, one thing is certain - your life will never be the same ~Catherine Jones

Why did I want to be pregnant again?
Yesterday was quite the pregnancy night mare, and I am only 5 weeks along. To be fair, if this were a normal pregnancy, I would not be experiencing some of these, but still... I worked with cam at his office for most of the day, and I didn't do to much physical work. I sat at a desk most of the day, but I got over tired before I realized it. All of a sudden, I was completely exhausted. I mean, I was tired to the point to distraction. I went home and took a long nap, which only made me grumpy when I woke up. I also woke up with a pretty huge headache. When it was time for me to get my shot, it was miserable. I still have huge hives on my left side, and am developing them on my right side. I have been using only the right side for about a week now, and cam could not find a place to give the shot. There are so many black bruises and bumps from the shots that Cam decided it would be better to try to use the left side. He found a good place, and it didn't hurt to bad. However, getting a shot on that side only made the itching worse. I also fought really bad heartburn all day, and last night I finally took two tums, even though I had been told not to. I thought my esophagus was going to dissolve it was hurting so bad. (I did read the label, and the kind I have should be safe according to about 4 websites and my mother and sister)

Despite the fact that I feel like nothing but a baby making machine, and I feel like I am falling apart, I am grateful for all these symptoms. This just means that there is a little baby in there, and he has to be pretty healthy to be giving me all these symptoms. I am doing my best to eat 90% of my food off of the "Pregnancy Power Foods" list, which I complied from several different top 10 foods to eat during pregnancy (funny, there are some overlaps, but none of the lists are exactly the same) The added benefit of this is that I am eating really healthy, and I am actually loosing weight. Now, my Dr. may not like it, but I am cutting out junk, and that can't be a bad thing. I figure, if I am going to go through all this, and I am going to make a baby, I might as well make the healthiest baby I can.

Pregnancy seems designed to prepare you for life as a mother. You start making sacrifices nine months before the child is born, so by the time they put in an appearance you are used to giving things up for them.
~ Brett Kiellerop

First Morning Sickess - Saturday, March 15th
That morning, I was helping to clean my mother's house, and I got overheated. I had been feeling slightly nauseous all morning, but I had done everything I could to try to keep it at bay. Once I overheated, it was becoming more difficult to not be sick, so I went outside to take in some cool, fresh air. My parents Dog, Zeeva, is an adorable little Blue Heeler, who has many endearing qualities, but one great flaw: She loves to chase skunks. As soon as I sat down, she came up to me, and sat with me. Without thinking, I petted her, and immediately regretted it. As soon as I stirred the skunk oils on her fur, my stomach retched. Trying to not be sick, I went inside, washed my hands, and my mom sprayed me with OUST air freshener. I also turned to my Preggy Pops to help curb the nausea. That was a huge mistake, as I had brushed my teeth not long before going outside. Within minutes, I was unable to fight it any more. I was sick. Since then, I have had morning sickness, and nausea, but nothing as bad as Saturday. More than the nausea it's self, I have constant fatigue, and a persistent annoying headache. If I make sudden moves I get dizzy, which mimics nausea. However, it does pass quickly.

I have had some aversion to food. I still eat, but some of the things I would have loved before simply don't appeal to me. We went to Painted Horse last night, and all I had was a little bowl of soup. It was more than enough, and I almost regretted eating all of it. I can attribute that, and my efforts to eat as healthy as possible to my recent weight loss. i started out the pregnancy journey weighing 250 lbs, and I am now weighing 238 lbs. According to the charts, theoretically, I should not gain more than 11 lbs in my pregnancy because I am over weight. At this rate, I should theoretically weigh less at the end than at the beginning..? We will see.

One of the newest symptoms I have encountered is constipation. UGH. I woke in the night with so much bloating, and gas that I just almost threw up. I was a little worried, because I was not sure what was going on. I pray this is not common during my pregnancy. I would rather throw up. Many of the symptoms I have been experiencing, a lot of people would not have as strong as I am experiencing them this early. I did some research, and all of these are caused by progesterone, which is the hormone I am injected with daily.

I give you permission to laugh at me for the antics I am about to tell you about. When they told us we were pregnant, they told us I would need to go in a week later (this Thursday) for another pregnancy test "just to make sure your levels are developing as they should". The more I thought about it, the more it made me unsure. Yes, we know I am pregnant. I have confirmed this with two (light) positive home pregnancy tests, and a blood test at the clinic. However, despite all the symptoms, and the positive tests, I needed reassured. I bought a two pack of cheap tests, not wanting to waste money on this silly antic. Everyone will tell you that you need to take the test in the morning, using your "first pee", because it contains the strongest levels of hormones. I took my test at about 3 in the afternoon. This test was an undeniably positive one. The instructions require you to pee on the stick, and then wait three minutes to get your results. I however was shocked and happy when I peed on the stick, and immediately brought it up to look at it, and it was already showing a positive result. Within only 30 seconds, it was the strongest positive you could imagine. Since I already knew I was pregnant, There should have been no shock, but I was delighted to see that little blue plus sign. Go ahead, laugh at me if you want, but know that I will most likely be taking that other test before it is done.

Today marks the first day of the 5th week of my pregnancy, and my baby is the size of a sesame seed. There are already so many people that love this tiny little baby. Many family members and friends are super excited to welcome baby J into the world. My mother (Ok, and myself) have already bought some clothes for it. We have already made plans for the nursery. When we got home from my parents house on Sunday, we had a present waiting for us. Josh and Haley had bought baby J a giant, 4 foot plush giraffe, which we had seen and loved. The funny thing is that we had actually already bought one ourselves. Now, there are a pair of giant giraffes living in the corner of our living room. Yes, they scare me almost every time I go into the living room.

From whattoexpect.com:
It takes a lot of developing to become a baby — all the major (and minor) bodily systems (digestive, circulatory, nervous, and so on) and organs (heart, lungs, stomach…you get the idea) have to form from scratch. One of the first systems to be operational is the circulatory (or blood) system — along with its companion organ: the heart. When you are 5 weeks pregnant, your baby's heart is made up of two tiny channels called heart tubes — and they're already hard at work, beating to their own drummer (it will be weeks before those beats become coordinated). When those tubes fuse together, your baby will have a fully functioning heart (though it almost certainly already has its grip on yours). Also in the works this week are several other organs, including the neural tube (the precursor to your baby's brain and spinal cord), which hasn't yet sealed, but by next week, that open-door policy is over.

So what does your little embryo — already the size of an orange seed (how fast they grow!) — look like now? Actually, not unlike a tadpole, with a rudimentary head and a tail. But don't worry — there's no frog in your future. In fact, you're fewer than eight months away from holding a real prince (or princess) in your arms.

We should recognize that women become mothers the moment they are pregnant
Alveda King

Today, I got stuck with a needle, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I had my Dr. appointment early this morning, and they took a vial of blood to do a pregnancy test. Of course, like always, my angry veins were not cooperating, and they had to dig around for a while. For a person who hates needles, I have come a long way. I even watched her do this for the first time today. The appointment only lasted about 5 minutes, and they told me that they would contact me by 2 or 3, and if not, to call them. As my phone was dead, and I wanted Cameron to be the first one to hear the news, I told them to call him. (Also, I have been staying at my parents for the week, and I knew I would not be alone when I heard the news. I did not want to give anything away until Cam knew)

Mom and I were shopping, checking out Academy for a bathing suit for Dad, when Cam called. Since it was before noon, I was not expecting to hear any news from him. He started out the conversation telling me the Dr. had contacted him, and by the sound of his voice, it was not good news. He could not keep up the farce for long though. WE ARE GOING TO HAVE A BABY!!! I am officially pregnant. My little fighter embryo had held on, and is now the size of a poppy seed. (I am quite sure it is the cutest little poppy seed ever!) I cried right there in the swim suit aisle. All I could do was send mom a big "Thumbs UP" and smile.

Within a few hours, most of our family and friends were told, and we have just been basking in the knowledge that we will be parents. Cam's version of telling people is "We are having a baby, and it's a girl." Of course, we will not know the sex for a while, but he says, "It does not have a penis yet, so it's a girl" He was counting the number of times he could get away with saying penis and it still be acceptable. (I think I married a child.) I wish we were not across the state from each other right now, but even that can't take away our joy.

The one rain on our fabulous day was the discovery of a huge, HUGE rash around where I get my progesterone shots every night. (dad has been giving them to me daily, and doing a good job. I was afraid, but I guess I should not have been) I read that hives are common in pregnancy, and I guess they can just pop up out of nowhere. I sure wish they would just go away. I have also been having a lot of dry skin and I have been drinking a LOT more water than normal. So far, those are the main symptoms besides sore nipples and being tired. I found out that most of the cramping I have been having is due to my ovaries shrinking back to size. (Oh joy... I should have known)

I'm pregnant. I'm actually 100% certified pregnant. Right now, I am 4 weeks along. My due date is approximately November 19th. I love that I will have a baby slightly before Christmas. It will truly be the most wonderful time of the year.

9 out of 10 children get their awesomeness from their Aunt
~Unknown

Being an Aunt is one of the best things that has ever happened to me. I think my nephews are the most amazing people in the world. Carter, the two year old, who is constantly on the move, has so much personality. He is all boy, and loves to sword fight, pillow fight, wrestle, play chase, play with the dog and make loud noises. He also has a hero right now, and his name is "BUZ!" Carter just had his second birthday, and we had a Buz party. Of course, all the other Toy Story characters were invited, but Buz was the guest of honor. I helped him go potty yesterday, and it was so funny. He kept saying, "Buz, Buz, Buz.." and dug through the pull ups till he found the one that had buz on the front. We might have to get him a new psckage when we go to town, because he is going to run out, and have a break down.

While Carter is all boy, and ready to get dirty at all times (actually, not sure why I said that. He hates to have his hands dirty) he is also the BEST snuggler, and gives great hugs. If it is his idea to be picked up, and be snuggled, and he chooses you as the one to do it, it melts your heart. This boy is also VERY dramatic. He has you kiss "ouch" (tiny, or imaginary hurts) several times a day. He will go around, pointing to his tummy, ear, hand, cheek, whatever, and say "ouch" until someone kisses the ouch away. Of course, no one minds getting the excuse to kiss that sweet boy.

One of the most precious things about carter to me, is his relationship with my dad, "Papa". Papa is Carters best friend. He only sits in Papas chair, even when dad is not there. They nap together, watch endless cartoons, play hard, and snuggle for hours. For a while when he was younger, Papa was the only one except my sister and brother-in-law that could make him stop crying, or comfort him. Sometimes, he even preferred Papa over even them. The way my dad caters to his every need and want, and interacts with him is so wonderful to see. Yeah, he is spoiling the boy rotten, but that is what Grandparents are made to do.

Little Landon has only been in our lives for 3 months, but he has won everyone's hearts with his adorable smile, and that wonderful baby smell. He is almost always happy, unless he is hungry, or needs changed. Of course, at this point, he is not picky about who is holding him, but I like to think that he really likes me to have the privilege. Last night, I went with Katie, Alyssa, and Mom to Weight Watchers, where they work. I got to hold Landon while they did their thing. We had the best time. We made faces, and he laughed when I talked to him. If you stick your tongue out, he will mimic you. Also, this kid is walking already. Ok, so not really. He is super strong though. I stood him up, and only helped him keep his balance, and he "walked" across the counter. He saw the shiny dish rack, and wanted to check it out. Of course, I made him do it several times before his legs got tired.

Being around my family, and these precious babies all week is just the distraction I need to keep me from dwelling on my upcoming blood test. We find out Thursday if we are pregnant or not. I have to admit, I did take two tests already, one on Sunday, and one today. They were both positive, but they were VERY faint positives. I have had some more symptoms (discharge, mood swings, sore breasts, and a lot of cramping) but like before, it is hard to say if they are caused by my pregnancy or the medications they are giving me. We are all so excited about me being pregnant, that almost everyone we know knows about it. Dad even announced it in his small group on Sunday night. I am happy about that. Rather I have this baby or not, even if this one is not the one we have for keeps, I am pregnant. There is a baby in me. We have created not one, but three lives with this IVF round, and this tiny little ball of cells represents all three of them. I am pregnant. If I find out I have lost this baby, it will be a miscarriage, and I will mourn it. If you are thinking I am silly, just wait. If you ever have to go through what I have been through, you will understand. Right now however, we are choosing to be positive and believe that I am pregnant, and that this procedure has been successful.

Keeping our fingers crossed...

Just wishin' and hopin' and thinkin' and prayin' Plannin' and dreamin'
~Dusty Springfield

Waiting is not fun. I have been resisting the urge to take a home pregnancy test. I will resist though. The last thing I want to do is take the test to early, and end up stressing myself out if it is a false negative. I have been experiencing pregnancy symptoms, but I can easily attribute that to my progesterone shots. I did wake up this morning nauseous, and dizzy, which is a new symptom, and gives me hope.

The shot, oh, the shot. I am so tired of getting those stupid shots. My haunches are bumpy and sore, and the worst part is, as I mentioned, the strong simulated pregnancy symptoms. I have been having horrible gas (toxic, and frequent), body aches (my muscles feel like they are ripping from my body), sore breasts, and menstrual-like cramping (which could also be implanting..???). I was at first excited about all of these symptoms, because, these are also some of the first signs to look for in pregnancy. One day, all the symptoms were especially strong, so I did what I do, and researched the symptoms of my shot. Progesterone in a normal pregnancy, and at normal levels causes the symptoms you experience. However, in my case, I am getting high doses of the hormone, and therefore, more aggressive symptoms. (YEAH)

One of the most noticeable symptoms (besides the gas... I'm sorry if you get stuck in an elevator with me) is the weight gain. This past week alone, I have gained 8 lbs. I weigh 10 lbs. more today than I ever have in my life. I already look pregnant, and and feel like a whale. Yes, I started this journey out a bit overweight, and that does not help. The steroids, multiple other medications and injections, and these awful progesterone shots have put my weight gain into "warp speed".

Hello
~Cameron Jarrett

This is going to be a long post. I have been jotting down my thoughts, but I have not had the energy to sit and put them together. The past week or so has been one of super high highs, super low lows, and lots of anxiety. By the morning of retrieval, (Wednesday, Feb. 26th) I was so sore, I could not wait to get the procedure done. My ovaries were swollen more than 3x their size, and making my whole abdomen cramp. I was nervous, but I knew everything would be ok. Goodness knows I had done enough research that I knew exactly what to expect.

The procedure it's self only took a few minutes, and the only thing I really remember is that my arms were out to my side, strapped down. This was not so pleasant, as I have horrible childhood memories of getting tubes in my ears, and a similar restraint. I didn't have time to even think about it though, because almost as soon as I registered what I was laying on, the anesthesia kicked in, and I was in the land of nod. After the procedure, I really felt pretty good, unless I switched positions. The 'hangover' from the medications was no fun, but that is to be expected. Cam helped me get dressed, and I was looking GOOD. No makeup, no products in my hair, no bobby pins, etc. (I'm one lucky girl that he still loves me after being seen in public with me looking like that) Before we left, we found out they had removed 11 eggs, which was a fantastic number. I was sure we would have no trouble making 5 or 6 embryos from that. They sent me home with instructions to take it easy, and a prescription for pain killers, which would be very thankful for later. Julie took care of me and let me rest on her couch during recovery, and even fed Cam and me. (Such a good mother-in-law)

After dinner, the dreaded moment was upon us. I had my first progesterone shot. Lisa, Cam's aunt volunteered to help us with the "monster shot" and make sure we were doing them correctly. She showed Cam how to draw up the correct dosage, prep the shot area, etc. All the while, I am leaning against the bathroom wall, hiney exposed, trying to be brave and not run from the room. She could tell I was struggling, so instead of warning me and giving me a chance to prepare for the shot, she ambushed me and gave the shot unexpectedly. Yeah, it hurt, but we all laughed. Later, she told me that she felt bad for hurting me, but oh well.. there is no way to give an IM shot without it hurting. (especially when we numbed the wrong area, and there was no deadening) By evening, a bad headache set in, and I went to bed early very early.

The next morning, I woke up and did some design, and laid in bed all day. I was still not recovered from being sick, and the pain from the surgery was 10x worse this day than the previous. It was torture waiting for the results to come in. Mom called, and while she was on the phone, I got on the portal, and THERE WAS NEWS. They had removed 11 eggs, inseminated 9, and out of that 9, 3 fertilized. Only 3... 3 on the first day. From what I read, that is not great. I'll be lucky to have the needed two by the time they transfer. The news of three was bad enough, but they were not showing the grades of the embryos (how well the cells were dividing, etc.) This launched me into a pretty deep depression. In between sleeping, and half watching netflix, all I could do was worry about the results. I think I slept 90% of that day. We had family dinner that night, and I had to go since it was also my birthday party with Cam's family. I tried to hide it, but it was no use. I had gone through so much, only to be defeated, and I was a wreck. We made it a short evening, and came home and went to bed, and I slept all night that night. You would have thought I would not sleep again for days, but I would end up sleeping away most of the rest of the week.

Our First Scoring came in on Friday morning. We had grades 3, 2, and 2.5. (1 being the worst, and 4 being the best. For some reason, our Dr. uses the inverse of every chart I could find on the internet. So, just think opposite.)I was glad to see a three, but the others didn't give me much hope. I was not seeing the positive in any of it. Cam actually had to remind me that I need to be more positive. I really tried, but with nothing to do but sleep, feel sorry for myself, and wait for updates, I really worked myself into nearly a breakdown.

Saturday Morning we got another update, and this one was encouraging. Our babies were already fighters. They had grown, and were showing signs of being healthy. We had grades of 4, 3, and 2.5. Now, this was more like it. I could work with these numbers. No, they were not what we thought we would have, but they were improving. Cam got me out of the house, and we looked at paint colors for a nursery, and Josh and Haley even went with us to Tulsa for some nursery window shopping, and some good food. We found a double stroller that I fell in love with, and we picked out the cribs we would be purchasing. It was fun getting to finally indulge in my baby fantasy, and have an actual reason to do so. We didn't purchase anything that day, but it made my heart happy to be able to look at all the baby things. It really felt like things were falling into place perfectly. I was still holding out hope that all three would be healthy, and we would have a good chance of having twins

Sunday. We were hit with a winter storm, so we slept in, I made us some breakfast, and we sat, waiting for the day's updates. I had been making the joke that my kids were only days old, and I was already pushing them to get good grades. (...Some people thought it was funny.) When they finally arrived in our inbox, we were very excited. Based on what we had seen the day before, we were expecting to see at least two '4s' on the chart, and then a wild card. The internet froze, and then Cam's computer was not wanting to open the document. (It always does that when you are really needing information) I had to get up and pace a bit, because I just could not stand the excitement I felt. Eventually, we got the results up and running. They were not what we were expecting. Over the night, the numbers had declined. We now had a 3, a 2, and one had "stopped developing". Of course, our charts did not say what that meant, but if something is to be growing, and it stops, it can only mean one thing. My heart broke. Yes, we still had two relatively healthy embryos, and they would not put more than two in any way, but I had lost one of my babies. This was real. We had created three precious lives, and I had been mothering them from afar, praying for them, and crying over them. I was sick that I could not be near them or do anything to make them better. This may seem silly to some people. I however fully believe that life begins at conception. Had this child been within me, I would be allowed to grieve it because it would be a miscarriage. No, it was not large, but it took up a big place in my heart. On top of the loss I was feeling, I was experiencing more panic over the entire situation. We were confirmed as a day 5 transfer, which meant that we would have the procedure some time on Monday. I was beginning to think they had forgot about us though. It was already Sunday afternoon, and we did not have an appointment time. We are lucky in the fact that I am not working right now, and Cam's job allows him a certain amount of flexibility. However, there was another storm coming through, and the chances of being snowed in, etc. were growing by the hour. I NEEDED some information so I could make some plans. I can't even imagine what I would have done had we not been in our work situations. We finally got a phone call (after a very direct email to them) from the office, and we were told to be there at 1:45 Monday. This was it. I had a plan, and things were going to work out.

The rest of the day we distracted ourselves with decorating the nursery, picking out wall paper (adorable btw) and paint colors. We even bought a 4.5 foot plush giraffe online, because cam had seen one in a store and was determined to have it. (I was kinda fascinated with it as well) We have 9 months to think about specifics of the nursery, and I know we will change our minds a few times on the specifics, but it was fun to come up with ideas together. Decorating our home has always been one of our favorite things to do together. Cam cares more about the subject than a lot of men I know, and he is actually a better decorator than I am (shhh... don't tell him I said that)

Monday morning came, and I felt like I was in a really bad movie. We were snowed in. Most places around town had about 5 inches, but we had at least 8 in our neighborhood. (by my calculations) neither of our cars could get out of the drive, let alone down the street. Cam had planned on going to work for the morning, but was not sure how to get there, let alone get to TULSA. After a couple of phone calls, it was decided we would take his parents vehicle to Tulsa. One problem solved. How to get to them was another story. His dad is a nurse at the hospital, his vehicle was there, with him. We just had to get to the hospital. Only half joking, I suggested calling for an ambulance. I'm sure we would not have been in that much trouble... That was not needed though. Stacy, the best father-in-law ever, came to our rescue. He left work to come pick Cam up, and save the day.
Fast forward to the appointment. We first met with the Dr. who, very quickly told us that we only had one embryo left. Had I not been paying attention, I might have missed that information. He said it had "arrested" in the night. I guess it was a good thing he handles it the way he did. We signed a few papers, and were quickly whisked away to begin the procedure. It took me a bit to fully comprehend what I had been told. We had lost a 2nd embryo. There was only one left. I was happy to have that one, but I was again mourning a tiny bunch of cells that never knew I loved it. I was also mourning my dream of twins. I desperately want more than one child, and we can not afford to do this more than once. While I was believing that this embryo would be the one, and that it would implant and be perfect, both of us were let down because there was no way it would be more than one baby. The procedure went well (ok, as well as a procedure like that can go) and they said that I have one "beautiful blastocyst." I was made to lay down in the recovery room for a half an hour post procedure. As soon as I was in the room, Cam came in, took my hand, kissed me, and then touched my belly. What he did next will forever be one of my sweetest memories. He leaned in close, and whispered to to my tummy, "Hello". It was a silly thing, and a super simple act, but it meant the world. It said it all. I was carrying our child. There was life in me. We had come so far, and gone through so much. There had been so many detours on the road to where we were. Everything leading up to that moment had seemed so dramatic that this anticlimactic conclusion was the perfect end to one journey and the beginning of another.

Day By Day Breakdown of our Embryo Development:

Our Dr. uses the opposite of this chart, and there is no "5". Just think opposite when you are reading the numbers. This is the best example I could find.

Wednesday:
11 eggs harvested
9 ICSI (In normal IVF, many sperm are placed together with an egg, in hopes that one of the sperm will enter and fertilize the egg. With ICSI, the embryologist takes a single sperm and injects it directly into an egg.)

Thursday:
3 fertilized

Friday:
3
2.5
2

Saturday:
4
3
2.5

Sunday:
3
2
lost one

Monday: transfer day
4
lost another

And they lived happily (aside from a few normal disagreements, misunderstandings, pouts, silent treatments, and unexpected calamities) ever after
~ Jean Ferris, Twice Upon a Marigold

I had yet another appointment today. My first vaginal ultrasound was brutal, and I wanted to die of humiliation. However, after everything I have gone through, this one was a breeze. They took blood from the same bruised place, because that is the only spot they have been able to find a vein the past three appointments. (quite a battle scar there now) During the ultrasound, I was even able to speak and joke with the Dr. They said I have "Beautiful Follicles," and that they were very healthy and big. (they are also painful. Normal ovaries are the size of almonds, but mine are now the size of tomatoes) If you want to know the actual stats, they measured 22 follicles, and the lead one was 24.28mm. My endo. thickness was 13.64 (I am not actually sure what that means. I think it is the lining of my uterus) I left the appointment with, "you have some of the healthiest ovaries I have seen in a long time," and "Check the portal (patient communication website) at three o'clock, for your next instructions." They also gave me another vial of the medication I am on (I used my last one this morning) just in case we had to wait a few more days. {below is my sharps container that is getting quite full}

Telling a person going through IVF to "Wait for further instructions," with the possibility of delays is like telling a child on Christmas morning that they can only look at the gifts under the tree. AAUGH!! I would have wished those hours away if I could have. I took Alicia, (my cousin, who went to the appointment with me), to breakfast, and then came home. Luckily (unluckily..?) I am still very much under the weather from all the crud I have been fighting, and the sinus infection was getting the better of me. With nothing else to do (ok, I could have cleaned the house, but .. meh)I laid down for a short nap. That nap lasted most of the day. Since, it is my birthday, I did get several calls, texts, facebook posts, etc. to amuse me during my intermittent awake times. I kept checking back every time I was awake, just in case they posted early, but hours went by and and there was no news. Finally, around 2:30, I checked, and I actually screamed out loud. On the main screen was my next appointment, and it was asking me to confirm that I would be there. "Egg Retrieval, arrive at 10:30am, Wednesday Feb. 26th"

So far, although, we have had a relatively smooth cycle, things just have seemed to want to go wrong for us. I had calculated that we would have the procedure on Wednesday, and had told some people, but I was not sure that it would really happen. When I saw it in writing, I had the feeling that everything was going to be OK. Things were going to work out just they way we are wanting. Yes, I know that there can still be hiccups, and that we are not safe yet (I don't think I will feel that way until I actually have my babies in my arms) but, I am more at peace. (maybe because I get a break from shots for a couple of days)

To tell you just how elated I am feeling right now is so difficult. I am humbled, and happy, and afraid, and hopeful, and hundreds of other emotions all wrapped up together. I am sure that most mothers, upon finding out they are pregnant have similar feelings. But, to be in this position of infertility, and to have hope within your grasp, after so much waiting, and heartache, it's unexplainable. I spoke with a very sweet person last night who approached me about what I was going through. While, this is the only place that I put all the feelings down, and my struggle is not "facebook official," I do talk with people about it in person, and I don't hide some of my Pinterest pins which have to do with infertility. This wonderful woman, whom I actually don't know that well, but whose family is close with mine, asked if there was something specific that she could pray for. She knew exactly what I was going through, even though we had not spoken. She is in a similar situation, and she said she "thinks about having a baby every single day" My heart broke for her, because, I know exactly how much that hurts. It is a physical, emotional, psychological pain, that you can try to understand, but until you are in the depths of it, you will never fathom. Even my own husband can not quite understand my emotions on the subject, as much as he tries. To tell you that I went from that hurt place, to where I am today, just know, it is WONDERFUL.

I have been accused of living in a fairy tale. I guess, if this were a PIXAR movie, there would be some kind of musical number about now, and a picture montage of a quick pregnancy, and then the next scene would be me holding both of my beautiful babies, smiling up at Cameron, and life would be grand. While, I do yearn for that kind of perfection, I obviously know that all the fairy tales I adored as a child are fiction. However, I do have an issue with people who tell me that "Happily ever after" is only in the stories. The movies and books I read while yes, they end on a high note, are full of challenges, and issues that must be faced and overcome. If, by some miracle, I end up with happily ever after when this is all finished, I will take it. It will be MY happily ever after. There will still be times of sorrow, and there will be challenges along the way, but I choose to live in a world where people can look past their present hurts, and reach for a better goal. If there were no happily ever after to work towards, what is the point. (Ok, heaven, etc. eternal reward, I completely agree, and that is relevant, but that's for another post. I am talking about life on earth, and human happiness, which I know God does not begrudge us)

Sickness comes on horseback but departs on foot
~Dutch Proverb, sometimes attributed to William C. Hazlitt

This past week was an interesting one. I managed to come down with Bronchitis, and a sinus infection. I also started a new medication, which is also administered via a shot. (That makes three shots a day) This new medication causes headaches, nausea, and fatigue. Of course, that on it's own is hard to deal with, but combine that with shallow breathing, coughing, stuffed up ears, and a runny nose, I feel like the walking dead.

Cameron has been such a trooper, taking care of me, and letting me indulge in what I want most - sleep. I slept ALL day on Friday, and took a three hour nap on Saturday. Today, I did manage to get to Church, but I am now on the couch with no plans to do anything for the rest of the day. I do feel bad about my sluggish behavior, but everything I have read says that if I can, to sleep... it's the best thing for my body.

We have reached the point of the IVF cycle that we are going to the Dr. every other day. Luckily, I am surrounded with family and friends who are willing to take a drive to Tulsa with me. The actual appointment is only about 15 minutes long, which makes the nearly two hour round trip seem even longer. There is consolation in that though. I have heard of people having to travel 4 or 5 hours to get to their RE appointments. I remember this, and am very thankful for the 'short' drive.

This video was taken by my mother-in-law, who offered moral support while I gave myself one of my shots. I had to get the medication in me as soon as I could, and Cam was at work, so I had to 'man up' and do it myself. For the record, this is the only shot I have given to myself, and I do not plan to do it again. Cam has been such a great nurse, giving me all my shots.

This morning, I encountered a little snafu in my shots. one of the lids of the prefilled needles was stuck on, and I could not get it off. I pulled pretty hard, and the suction broke. Some how, in the process, I managed to stab myself in the base of my thumb, and bend the needle on one of my bones. OUCH. Between the stress of the shots, my physical condition, and the throbbing pain in my hand, I broke down and started sobbing. With little other choice, Cam had to try to administer the shot with a bent needle. Poor guy, he looked at my pitiful face, tears streaming down my cheeks, and had to then stab me with not one, but two needles, one bent pretty badly. I really did try to hold it together, but I think that probably only made me more pitiful looking. I had about calmed down, when I looked down, and the medication from the bent needle was leaking out of the puncture wound. I am not sure how much of the medication I actually absorbed. This sent me over the edge. This specific medication keeps my body from ovulating before we do the procedure. If I did not get enough of the medication in, I could ovulate, and then this cycle would get canceled. I cried for a few more minutes, and poor Cam, who is coming down with the same illness I have, wasn't sure what to do with me. He told me that he was proud of me and that he thought I was very brave, and he was impressed with how much I was able to endure. All I can say is that I can not wait for this week to be over. Hopefully, this week will be a good one, and we will have a successful egg retrieval and embryo transfer. Hopefully.

On a funny note, I did give Cam a 'shot' last night. I wanted him to feel what I had been feeling. He did not want it, but was a great sport about it. I think I will keep him.

Fear is a habit; so is self-pity, defeat, anxiety, despair, hopelessness and resignation. You can eliminate all of these negative habits with two simple resolves: I can!! and I will!!
~Napolean HIll

This past weekend was an ...interesting one. I was fighting off a cold, and was looking forward to a slow weekend. Cam, on a whim, whisked us away to a relaxing three day weekend in the Arkansas Mountains, which was perfect. Our plan to stay there and do nothing was cut short. We were called home due to a family emergency. Cam's Grandad was kicked by a horse in the head and arm, and was life flighted to Tulsa. His false teeth were broken in half, and his hearing aids actually flew out. his hat and glasses were also knocked off as he actually flew several feet in the air. (Where was the slow-motion camera???) As soon as we got the call, we rounded up our things in record time and drove the longest 4.5 hour drive of our lives, less than a full day after arriving. Luckily, Jim came out the winner, and is doing very well. That man is a fighter.

After sitting for a couple of hours at the hospital, observing absolutely crazy people, and getting nearly lost in what seemed to be an abandoned wing, perfect for an episode of "The Walking Dead," we finally headed home. We did not get to bed until 2AM, and did not wake Sunday morning until we were good and ready. Not only did I wake up with a horrible cold, but I woke up knowing that I had to receive my first Follistim shot that morning. I have been dreading and yet looking forward to this for weeks. That I am starting the shots means that we are one step closer to getting pregnant. However, that joy did not take away the sinking feeling that reminds me of how much I hate needles.

We watched the video again on how to give the shots, and got down to business. Cam actually enjoyed being able to stab me, and it was relatively painless. It did burn pretty badly after, but a little research later, we found out that the nickname for this drug is "follisting". Apparently, if any of the medication touched your skin, it can burn pretty badly.

I now have three shots under my belt, quite literally, because of the location (within two inches of the belly button in the fat.) By the time I am through with this process, I may be cured of my fear. As I said, it was an interesting weekend.

I have severely over reacted. ~Jessica Jarrett

The most wonderful news came from my Dr. today. It does not matter if I start my period or not. "Day 3" is mentioned in all the literature, but it means nothing to my specific situation. I will have my baseline appointment on the 12th, as planned, and everything should proceed as normal from there.

I do feel slightly foolish at my reaction, but that makes this news all the sweeter to hear. Tonight I have a photo shoot, which was really really hard for me to concentrate on. It will be nice to go into it with a light heart, and the ability to focus on what I am doing.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus ~Philippians 4:6-7

Since my last post (just yesterday afternoon) I have worked myself into a state of extreme worry. I am physically sick because of the anxiety running through me. All my life I have read books, and talked with people, parents, friends, etc. that tell me worry is a sin. Worrying essentially means that you are not laying your cares at the feet of Jesus, and that you don't think he is big enough to handle what you are worrying about.

I don't actually think that at all, so why do I continue to worry, and beat myself up over things that do not need worrying about? I have seen the hand of God at work in so many ways through our infertility, and throughout my entire life for that matter. I have been witness to what can only be described as miracles. I truly believe that there is nothing that can remove me from the love of God, or separate me from him. I know, based on the promises of scripture, that He will never leave me of forsake me. He knows the deepest desires of my heart, and what he has for my future. Why then am I not more willing to give my worries to Him?

The only thing I can think is that if I give them to Him, it will be out of my control. Although we have prayed about it, and we do feel very good about what we are doing, what if we are forcing this? What if we are playing God? What if he has a completely different plan for our lives, and this is His way of getting us to follow the path He has laid out for us? Could I actually give up this dream? I'm not sure I could. All my life I have heard of Abraham and Sarah. They longed for a lifetime for a child. Three years is nothing in comparison to the decades of grief and shame that Sarah carried with her. Going through my current situation, I hear that story with open ears. I can empathize with that couple, and understand the scope of their emotions. I literally shed tears when I think of how they must have felt when she finally held Issac. Then, in an unexpected twist of events, Abraham was asked to SACRIFICE his son. He was not asked to lay down his burden of worry, or to give his Son's life over to the care of God. No, he was asked to literally sacrifice him on an altar. He was asked to spill the blood of his lifelong dream, his most loved "possession", the thing that made him want to get up in the morning. He did it ... or, was willing to. Abraham's willingness to trust God, and God's plan for his life not only saved the life of his child, but cemented the promise that he would be the father of nations. I'm not imagining him completely at peace with the situation. I would think that he was probably shaking, and crying, and maybe even got sick a few times because of what he was going to do. BUT he trusted God. I am in envy of that kind of trust and faith.

I worry that my cycle will not come this month, and that we will have to put off the procedure for another month. This in turn, would cancel the European trip we have scheduled for the end of March. We would also have to start much of the process over, and have to pay for many of the procedures again, which we would make happen, but really can't afford to do. More simply, this would be yet another setback in this process. While, I feel that in general, I have given the grief of the past 3 years to God, I still remember all the setbacks, and the blows my heart has taken. Mentally, I know that I am not prepared for another one. Part of me wants to be angry with God over this. JUST MAKE IT HAPPEN! I know you can! I KNOW YOU CAN! I'm not asking for much, just that my body do what it is designed to do. The other part of me knows that this is not fair. God is in control, and in His infinite wisdom, he is doing what he knows will ultimately be the best for me. I have often heard that God has three answers to prayers: Yes, No, and Later. We get angry and depressed, etc. because we earnestly pray over a situation, and we agonize over it, and we don't think that God answered our prayers for that situation. But, He did. He might not have made the outcome be everything that you had been hoping for, but he did answer the prayer. Had God answered every earnest, heartfelt prayer I have prayed, in the way I thought it should have been answered, my life, and the lives of many others, would be entirely different. I would not have even met Cameron, be living where I do, or have the friends I have.

Another deep worry I have is over the embryos themselves. If this procedure happens, and we do the IVF cycle, they will make more embryos than what we will actually use to get pregnant. No, there won't be 30 of them, but there will probably be about 5 that we have to decide what to do with. We will cryogenically freeze them for a couple of weeks, just in case the first round of IVF does not work. Ultimately, there will be "leftovers" even after a hypothetical second round. I desperately want to do the right thing with these little lives. They are life. They are my children, just as much as the ones that will, hopefully, be growing in me. Do I pay the monthly storage fee, and keep them frozen for a couple of years, just in case we decide to try for a second pregnancy? (They call that a frozen cycle) What then? There will possibly still be some left over. That we could afford a second round of IVF at a later date would be a miracle, but a potential third... that's pretty much a pipe dream. From what I understand, there are three options. We can dispose of them, which I am completely opposed to. We can keep paying for the storage fee until they "expire" and are no longer viable. I hate that option as well, because isn't that just the prolonged (and expensive) version of the first option?

The third option is the lesser of three evils. We could give them up for adoption. There are couples out there who actually adopt embryos because of their own infertility issues. I don't want to sound like Scrooge here, but who gets the money for this? Would we pay for the procedure, the storage, and maintenance of these embryos just to give them away and have some Dr.'s office or agency make a bundle off of us, just because we are out of options? Also, I find it very hard, at this point, to think of another couple raising our baby. It's different than just an egg donation, or a sperm donation, this is our complete DNA, this is US. This life, although very tiny, is wanted. It is already loved by us and it is not even created. While, the blessing to the other family is not lost on me, the oddity of having our biological children out there with people we don't know terrifies me. I can't decide who gets to take my babies home. I don't know if they will be well cared for or loved. It feels like there is no good answer to our situation. I have been told not to worry about what others think of the situation. That I just need to make the decision that I am ok with, and stick with it. It is no concern of any one else. I am trying to take that advice, but it is so hard, when I am not at all sure what my decision needs to be.

AS I said, I have worked myself into a "pit of despair," and I am having difficulty seeing out of it. While, this should be one of the most exciting experiences of my life, all I seem to be able to do is worry. My need to control the situation is literally driving me mad. I put a very brief, vague prayer request on my facebook page last night, asking for help in giving up my worry over an "upcoming situation." (Facebook world does not know what I am going through, and actually, only a hand full of people even know this blog exists)

When I woke up, Philippians 4:6-7 was posted on my page, as well as many other verses and words of encouragement. This led me to some research, looking for further confirmation, or encouragement, from scripture, and other sources. While, I don't usually post this many pictures, and no, it is not good design, These were the most encouraging bits I found, and I feel it only appropriate to share them.

I remember when I was younger I thought getting your period was cool because it meant growing up. I wish I could go back, and slap myself.
~Unknown

When I was young, I remember getting my first visit from "Aunt Flow" and, although I was slightly terrified, I was so proud of it. Outwardly, I was awkward, and embarrassed, but inwardly, I was beaming. I had done it. I had joined the ranks of womanhood. For months before that "special visit" I had secretly worn panty liners, "Just in case", much like a girl stuffing her bra, and fooling herself into being a "real woman." The commercials for feminine products made having your period look like a party, and I was sure confetti would fall from the sky. I just knew other women would somehow know what was going on inside me, and give me the little secret nod, a knowing glance of sisterhood. I had joined a league of women who were ...awesome.
This feeling lasted a full day.

My joy at this milestone in life was soon replaced by horror as ungodly things happened to my body. Blood, and other unmentionable gelatinous globs became the stuff of nightmares. Swimming pools were a source of terror, and wearing anything but black sweatpants was a calculated risk. On top of the horror of the event it's self, I was not prepared for the effect it would have on my body. I was one of the lucky ones whom Mother Nature decided to doubly bless. From the beginning, I suffered from horrendous cramps. I remember being in the kitchen talking to my grandmother, and crying. I slid down the counter, and sat on the floor, sobbing, because my back hurt so badly. (No, I was not dramatic :D )

Fast forward a couple of years, and I was an old pro at controlling that monthly "visit." Only, as an added joy, I never knew when to expect my unwanted companion. I have friends who know down to the half-hour when they will "start." Well, Have a cookie why don't you. (I hate them) I, however, to this day, do not know if I will start on the 5th or the 15th. One of my worst memories and one of my proudest moments are all wrapped up into one day. I was a Paige for the state Senate, and I was working on the floor, delivering papers and information to the Senators, during a live, televised session. One of the jobs was to collect papers that they placed on the floor next to their desk, signaling that they needed said papers taken to their office. It was a pretty cool experience. You got to dress up, and wear a gold pin, that gave you behind-the-scenes access to most of the capitol. I walked proudly,carrying my already tall frame high as I made my way through the back halls as if I owned the place. I remember, I was wearing a beautiful light khaki pant suit, and I felt untouchable. I was on the floor, bending, and straightening, and bending again, picking up those papers. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, a friend came up behind me, and whispered to me, "You have to leave." She guided me from behind, with a hand on my shoulder, sticking quite close to me. My mind was whirling. What had I done? Did I deliver something to the wrong office? Is someone dead? I was not ready for the answer. She discretely led me to a corner of the room, and whispered, "You are leaking" Leaking? What? I didn't get her grasp, until she nodded toward "that area". Horrified, I rushed to the nearest restroom, the senators room, where we were actually not allowed to go. I didn't care. I had to hide. Mother nature had issued a surprise attack, and she had gone all out. My once crisp, clean light khaki suit was now a solid rusty crimson on the whole crotch and backside. My underwear were unsalvageable. I wanted to die. I had to call the only emergency contact that was allowed to pick me up, and it was my grandfather. I had to walk through the Capitol, head dropped in shame, and suit jacket unprofessionally tied around my waist to attempt to cover most of the carnage. He had to go into the store and buy me some pads (I had not yet discovered that tampons were my best friend)and take me to my hotel room, where I had to make a quick change and clean myself up. All this was embarrassing enough, but on my way back to the capitol, the true gravity of the situation hit me... it had been televised. That's right. I'm not sure to this day if anyone actually saw it, but I can't believe no one did. I was the tallest person walking about on the floor, wearing a light suit, with a bloody bulls eye on my backside. How I went back and finished out that week, I will never know.

I don't know how many times I was told that all of the humiliation and the pain was "totally worth it." It's a beautiful thing, and it is a privilege that only women have. "If you didn't have periods, you wouldn't have babies". I bought into this, and I have now suffered through 16 years of monthly "blessings." (I will never understand why we have to start so early though. How about lets not even have to think about "the birds and the bees" until we are old enough to actually understand them - OK?)These dreaded "blessings" were (are) the controlling factor in my life. The week before, I would start feeling gross, and then I would have world war III in my Uterus for a week, and then after, I would feel almost as bad. There are only a few days a month I don't have a headache, or feel just nauseous enough to make me crabby. I was told that once I was married, and sexually active, that my periods would regulate, and that the cramping, etc. would actually diminish slightly. LIES. It may have happened to a few people, but I will never give anyone that false hope.

So, having now given you a glimpse into my medical past, you might be wondering why I am literally begging God for my period to come and SOON. It seems life has come full circle, and I am once again that young, naive girl.

Except, this time, I NEED it to come. My first appointment for my actual IVF cycle is on the 12th. (Baseline Ultrasound) this is to be done on the 3rd day of your cycle and at no other point. If I do not start today, I will have to call the Dr. and cancel the appointment. Yes, it may be put off only a few days, but every day is precious. Every day I am late means one more day until I am able to get pregnant. You would think that after almost 3 years of waiting, a couple of days would not be that big of a deal, but that's simply not the case. Mother Nature has tortured me for 16 years. She has ruined parties, sleepovers, jobs, romantic evenings, cute undies and peaceful weekends. Is it to much to ask that she cooperate with me on just this one instance?

"Little girls don't dream of growing up and having their kids via IVF"
~Unknown

Since my last post, there has been a lot happen. I've sat down several times to try to record what is going on in our lives. Funny, how I don't seem to be at a loss when I am talking about it in person, but when I am forced to sit and come face-to-face with my deepest thoughts on the subject, it is harder to get my brain to cooperate.

On the 9th of last month, we had our first appointment with the fertility specialist at Tulsa Fertility Center. We went in to the appointment prepared to discuss adopting sperm from a donor at a bank. We were resigned to the fact that we would never be able to have our own kids. That we were at the point of considering sperm adoption means that we had run the gambit, and been through the ringer emotionally. Being able to have a child that was biologically mine was a blessing, but we were mourning the loss of "our" child. Back at the clinic, we anxiously sat in the Dr.s office, not sure what to expect. After the pleasantries were dispensed, the Dr. got down to business.

He stated that he would not "beat around the bush" with us. (which was a relief considering what we had been through already) Within minutes, we learned that we would indeed be able to have our own kids, and that we would get started immediately. I am sure other things were said during that visit, and I know we talked about the procedure, etc. but my mind was reeling. "I'm going to have a baby! I'm going to have Cameron's baby! WE are going to have OUR baby!" Somehow, I managed to hold it together as we paid for the visit and got an appointment set up for the following morning. (Although, according to Cam, I was anything but composed) As soon as we were outside the clinic, I let go. I started to cry, and I continued to do so off and on for the remainder of that day. I had family and friends who were aware of our appointment, and were calling me to ask about it, and I was only too happy to have the excuse to talk about the miracle that had happened in our lives. I AM GOING TO HAVE A BABY!! Sometimes that statement still gives me chills.

Here I sit, a month later, $17,000.00 poorer, 10+ vials of blood gone, and a pile of medicines on my counter and in my fridge that could stock a pharmacy. ...and I couldn't be happier. Of course, I nearly fainted when said blood was drained, vial after vial, and I did nearly pass out during patient orientation, when they showed us how to administer the shots, but I am incredibly happy to even have this opportunity. Yes, I have already gained weight, and my skin has never been in such a state of blemish before, all due to the birth control they have me on (seems strange, but it's the first step)BUT I am HAPPY. I am happy to go through the shots, and one invasive, embarrassing ultrasound after another if it means I will get to have a child.

It's funny really, one of the stated side effects of IVF is... PREGNANCY. (DER!!!) However, contrary to popular belief, Dr.s do not toss 15 embryos into you and hope for the best. Their goal in IVF is "Pregnancy, not lots of babies." Our Dr. will only implant 1-2 embryos (fully fertilized eggs - babies)at a time. "No one needs more than two babies at one time." I am relieved I won't end up with five babies, but I have to admit, that I am fully hoping for twins. Yes, the obvious answer to my reasoning is "two for the price of one." We can't afford this procedure more than once. Even more than that, I have always wanted to have twins. I was a nanny of sorts for a set of twins all through high school. They were at our house from 7am to sometimes 7pm, 5 days a week, and occasionally on the weekends if their parents needed a sitter. Those little girls stole my heart entirely. I experienced a small dose of motherhood by watching them. I was thrown up on, pooped and peed on, loved on, and we had many snuggle sessions, rocking and reading books or singing songs. They pretty much ruined me for life. Twins don't run in my family. There was no way I would ever have them. In steps infertility and ...IVF... and TWINS!

I think of myself as a pretty creative person, but that nerd side of my brain has a very strong presence in my life as well. I LOVE research and knowing things, so stats, and hard numbers relating to my fertility journey are just about as good as it gets. Here is the breakdown for you number crunchers like me:
Chances of a positive pregnancy the first round, based on my age and health: 60%
Chances of both babies developing to term, and having twins: 30-40%
Ill take those odds. Yes, for a short time, I WILL be pregnant with twins, and it will be an AWESOME joy. I know that I may loose one, and that there are risks involved, etc. but I am, for the moment, choosing to look at only the positive. I have a chance of having twins. (There has to be a reason I was given this large, sturdy frame of a body)

For those of you who want to see what I will be going through this upcoming month, here is some information for you. ENJOY!



Here is a TIMELINE of what we will be doing.