Stitch Fix #1 (of infinity)

So, I know I have to do some posts to catch back up, but in the meantime I have to share my excitement from receiving my first stitch fix in the mail this past weekend.  If you don't know what Stitch Fix is you have either been A) living under a rock or B) raising crazy young 'uns.  Here is the link to the site if you want to check it out Stitch Fix. A friend from work, who knows I struggle in the fashion and style department, told me about it after I had Isaac.  After having E, I knew one of my weight goals was to lose enough to even fit in the sizes that they provide.  Once I reached that size, I kept stalling for a few reasons.

1. If you have ever had a weight problem, you may have the same fears that I always had about receiving clothes from anyone or anything that you didn't try on first or pick out yourself.  Being chubby my whole life, I hated receiving clothes for Christmas for fear of the "Oh go try it on and show all fifty family members how it looks" only to find I couldn't get the fabric above my knees.  It has happened...more than once.  Then you have to do the walk of shame wearing the same thing you had on before you left the room with the ole' shoulder shrug that it didn't fit.  It was more so about my own disappointment than anyone elses, but still.  Even the few interspersed times of being less chubby my mind set was automatically that any clothes that arrived to me in that fashion would be too small, regardless of the actual size.  Maybe its just me.... So anyway, the first fear was that I would be so excited, tell my friends I was doing it, get it in the mail, and nothing would fit.
2. I am a habitual buyer of clothes that do not fit under the assumption that once I buy them I will magically lose the weight necessary to wear them appropriately.  ESPECIALLY if its on sale.
3. I never buy an item of clothes that is over $29.99 (and the 1 cent does matter to me).  Well, there was this one time I went into the Buckle store (where store attendants are definitely paid by sales commissions and ended up buying two pairs of $100 jeans that I now realize give me muffin top no matter what size I am. I got too many "oh girl, you can definitely rock that" and my self esteem made me do it).
4. I am still on the diet from hell and losing weight so I have no idea what size I actually am (see reason number #1) 

Here are the reasons I ultimately did it.

1. Ever since I can remember being in control of my own wardrobe, I have had no idea what my "style" is.  I am all over the place - feminine and flirty, casual, vintage, traditional, classy, country, grunge....  My closet definitely needs to go to rehab for having multiple personalities.  And because I only buy clothes that are cheap - they don't necessarily fit or do anything for me.  Not only do I not wear most of the clothes in my closet, I don't even LIKE half of them.  I have dreamed of wiping the slate clean and actually spending the necessary money on having wardrobe staples that I could feel good about wearing.
2. The need to stop waiting until I was the perfect size that I am never gonna be.  For my entire life I have wanted to be a size 10.  Not skinny, but healthy.  I have only been there once.  Lets face it, even if I get there this time the probability of staying there based on historical performance is really small.  Not to hate on myself, just trying to be realistic.  So does that mean I wait forever and possible never to have a nice wardrobe?  Clinton and Hillary from What not to Wear say "NO!".   I need to stop being ridiculous.
3. I feel a deep seated need to buy,have,and wear new clothes.  I feel better when I am wearing new clothes and then the new wears off and I don't ever wear it again.  Hence why it has to be cheap.  To me, there is nothing like wearing a brand new anything.  But because they are cheap and I was never really loving them anyway I always need more.  This is also ridiculous.
4. If nothing fit or I didn't like any of it, I could just send it back!

So once I grew a set and decided to do it, I went to the site and started filling in my personal style profile.  Like I said, I didn't know my style so at first this was a little daunting, but it was so easy once I started going through it.  They show you several sets of clothes and you say whether you love it, like it, don't like it or hate it.  That was helpful.  The size parts I was afraid of, but you have to be honest or you will get stuff that looks terrible.  The site suggests that you create a pinterest board of different outfits that you like to help the stylist, so went a little crazy one afternoon and did that too.  I was a little worried that every style I picked had a skinny girl wearing something and the stylist would get the wrong idea of what I could wear, but somehow he didn't....And yes I said HE.  I would like to refer to him by his name - Chris(topher).  I do have to say I was surprised to see that a guy did my styling but Chris obviously knows what he is doing.  Here is why I already love him:

1. He picked things for me that fit.  A couple items were a little snug for one reason or another, but for the most part the fit was great.
2. He picked things I would never have picked off of the shelf.
3. He showed me how to pair the items with different things for completely different looks - this is what I struggle with the most.
4. He made me step out of my cheap comfort zone, but not so far out of it that I had a meltdown and sent everything back.

Here is my cheat cards that will help me to look like I know what the heck I am doing with the items that he sent me.  This is actually really helpful.

So you are probably saying, "shut up already and show me the goods".  Taking pictures of myself created a little (a lot) a bit of anxiety, but fortunately I was overcome by the exhaustion of the whole "Paci Fairy" debacle that I decided not to care (long story for another day).  I won't say that I didn't take a thousand shots and weeded out the best I could find, but still.  Its better than the first option of not including my face in any of them.  So here we go - the good, bad and the ugly.  I'll start with the good so we can work up to the ugly.

1.  

 You will have to forgive the shotty camera work.  I had already had three cups of coffee and I still have no clue where to look when I take the picture.  This blouse was the first I put on.  The fit isn't exactly perfect, but it works I think.  I would have never picked this shirt off of a rack, but I do like it, and BONUS, it is orange and white and navy so could pass for a good Clemson football game shirt.  I like the feminine details and the lines down the sleeves.  Looks professional enough for work, but not too uptight, and manages to be pretty without showing too much cleavage.  I wouldn't have thought to pair it with white pants, but since Chris suggested it, I went ahead and tried it and I actually liked it better than my usual.  I had to search for them in the back of my closet because white pants are laughable in my house (if I don't mess them up with my sloppy eating and clumsiness, my two kids will see to it that they don't make it through a day) but I think I will keep this one. 

2. 

 
 Chris must have read my mind on this one, although they were the scariest to take out of the box and actually put on.  I avoid trying on jeans at all costs, hence why I still have a pair from my freshman year of high school.  Lately, I have become obsessed with finding a really cool pair of cowboy boots.  Problem is, to pull off the look I imagine I need some sort of skinny jeans.  Skinny jeans scare me to death.  I have seen skinny people look bad in skinny jeans, much less someone who has a lot more to shove in them.  I actually liked these when I put them on.  I was trying not to be encumbered by the ether of just being able to get them on, and judge them objectively, but I liked them a lot.  I'm not impressed with the full frontal view but I do think they help out in the butt department.  Chris totally helped me out by suggesting that I roll them up, which I thought could work with all the flats I wear to work.  Now I know I don't look particularly stellar, but in the whole skinny jean realm I would actually feel comfortable in them?  Now for some really awesome cowboy boots.

3. 

Okay now, I know you are thinking this shirt is too tight, and it is, but I loved it.  So here I am breaking the cardinal rule of buying clothes that "will fit in ten pounds".  But I really really liked it.  Chris must have been stalking me, because this is exactly the type of stuff I want.  I could wear this to work (in 10lbs) and look polished, but also wear it to a kids birthday party (and just not eat any cake).  The color is my fav and I like the weird sleeves.  I think I am liking the two blouses the best because I feel like one of my best features is my decolletage, or as my 2.5 year old calls it - "the chicken bones that poke out of my neck".  I think I'll keep it and maybe make myself wear it for the embarrassment and punishment if I don't actually lose the 10 lbs.

So those were the good things I thought. The bad thing, well, its not really bad, its just too bad for me.  I am not an accessories girl.  I put in a pair of target dangly earrings until they lose a part or turn colors and then I buy another pair and leave them in indefinitely.  I only really wear my wedding band and ring, and hardly ever wear a necklace unless it is so tiny you could barely see it.  I don't know, its just not my thing.  And I certainly wouldn't ever spend more than $20 on any one piece.  This is why the only "real" jewelry I own is my wedding rings and a overstocked Pandora bracelet.  I realize this whole theory is probably because I don't own nice things, but at this point, I would just rather spend my money on clothes.

 So here is the bangle that Chris selected for me.  When I saw it in the box, I was a little disappointed since I wanted it to be all clothes, although I didn't say that on the survey.  I would like to be surprised by a piece every now and then, but this was $34, and unless its just a really good deal on 14k gold, I don't want it.  I didn't even want to put it on, because the more I looked at it the more I liked it, and then when I did put it on I was thinking maybe I would keep it.....but  I stuck to my guns and sent it back.

Okay for the ugly.  Let me preface this by saying when I saw this garment, I immediately thought of tapestry on the walls of the Biltmore House.  Not a look I could pull off.  But, I wanted to keep an open mind and maybe the fit would just blow my socks off.   Not so much.

This dress ended up accentuating everything that I would like to hide or forget I have.  From the arms, to the thighs to the post baby belly.  You can even tell I am sucking it in uncomfortably in the last picture.  It's so bad I didn't even want to post it.  Not your fault Chris, it could have worked better on someone with different coloring and flat tummy.  But I am gonna go with a big no on this one.

So all in all the bracelet and the dress went back.  I kept the two shirts and the jeans for a total of $150.  I know that was high, especially when one of the shirts is a tad too tight, but I really liked them and felt like they would be staples in my wardrobe for a while.  And with the help of the suggestions could get a few other pieces and use them for totally different looks (would have never thought about the yellow skirt with the blue top but I bet is would look great together). 

If you are interested in stitch fix, please use my referral link - http://www.stitchfix.com/referral/3970713 .  My husband will thank you for the discount I will get on my next fix :).

Oh, and thank you Chris - where ever you are I hope we can be friends.

Visit Sarah's profile on Pinterest.

Sike! I'm really back now! (for the sanity of my poor husband)

So my husband doesn't care to hear narratives about how much I love Jamberry, Zulily, Jane.com, Stitch fix, make up, or anything other girly thing in my life.  He has feigned interest in those things for far too long.  He needs for me to have an outlet, and my friends need for me not to sound like a salesman when I get on a kick about something I like, so I felt like I needed to strike up the ole' blog again.  Even if no one out there is reading, I feel better.

Ya'll...Having two kids under the age of three is TOUGH.  I have never been one to complain about anything having to do with my kids (I went through a lot of stuff to get them here and would do it a hundred times over) and I was never one to complain about my pregnancies so I am not about to start complaining now.  I just want to be straight up with you guys.  I wasn't prepared.  (Not that I think you could be prepared at all). Before deciding to go through IVF again using one of our frozen embryos, my husband liked to state that "having one child was like having one and having two was like having five."  I thought it was one of the dumbest things he had ever said at the time.  Well, dang it, as much as I hate to ever admit it, he was right.  Somehow the laundry goes from three loads a week to nine loads, and since I have two young 'uns in diapers we are most of the time up to our eyeballs in poop.

But ya'll, look what I got...

So much joy and cuteness and blessedness that I can't even contain it and I don't want to.  Our little Ellie bug (Eliza Rae) has completed our family and she is perfect in every way.  And Isaac is too.  He is a genius and a happy little southern gentleman.  He is also 2.5 yrs old... and wild...and all boy.  We have adventures every day, and have only ended up in the hospital twice.  WHEW!

So wow...been a long time.  I have literally told myself a bagillion times that I needed to start writing again - for numerous reasons.  The largest of which is that, on any given day I can have a hundred feelings that I forget by the time I lay my exhausted face on the pillow every night.  I have been through so much in the last two years and I look back now and wish I had some sort of journal, or way to remember the emotions I had at those times.  But alas, I do not.  And one of the reasons why I never felt like I could start again was feeling the need to write about everything that has happened sounded even more exhausting.  There was never a good place to start.  Well, I am just going to have to start, and that's all there is to it.

With my busy schedule and non existent free time, I am always trying to find some sort of deal to make my life easier.  And let me preface that by saying that I am a sucker.  I have probably tried or owned every "As seen on TV" product that has ever existed.  It is a household rule that I am not allowed to watch the Home shopping network after having a little too much to drink on a certain night in college and ordering four king size pillows (I have never owned a king size bed).  You think I am kidding but I am sadly not.  Finding new products I love is addicting and very satisfying, and helps me to over look the fact that I may be failing miserably in other areas of my life.  Example:  I like to look at my pretty Jamberry nails instead of  entertaining the thought that it is quite possible that I have not dusted anything in my home in over a year.  TRUTH.  Who has time for dusting? Oh that's right... people who want their house to be clean.  Its not that I actively don't want my house to be clean, but time with my kids is more important (and Jamberry), and anyone who is going to judge me by the level of dust on my stack of papers on top of a casserole dish that I should have returned six months ago on my kitchen island can really just suck an egg. (that's nasty).  That is a whole other topic of blogness.

So I know in the past my blog has been all over the place with subjects and I can't imagine that it will be any different now.  I will still talk about weight all the time, we still have huge decisions to make on the IVF front that I have to somehow emotionally work through, and since I use myself as a human guinea pig for every new miracle product on the planet I will probably use it as an outlet for all of my many opinions.  My poor husband.  My blog will be an outlet for me, not necessarily for the joy of anyone reading it so feel free to not care if you so choose.  Also, I get really mad when I become emotionally invested in someone's blog and they drop off the face of the planet.  I am sorry about that, but I had a little bit going on.  I really want to stick with, but seeing as I said that last time, I could understand why no one would believe that.  I'll try to do better this time.

I'm back...so look at pictures of my kid!

So wow....It has been a long time.  Not that anyone was too enthralled in my blog to begin with, but I do feel bad that if you were reading a long I just dropped you like a hot potato.  I know when I was stalking every IVF blog out there, I would get a little peeved when someone wrote everyday and then they were pregnant and BAAAAM! you never heard from them again.  Well, I totally became that person and I am sorry.  I miss writing, just for the sheer sanity preserving features.  It is also nice to have a record of A) how type A control freaked I am B) and how I felt at exact moments in time just in case Isaac will ever want to take a gander.

BTW, our little Nubbins was born on Dec 5, 2012.  He was three weeks early after a tough pregnancy with pre-eclampsia, toxemia, and PUPPS Syndrome, and gaining 75 lbs.  All of which I didn't care about because I was just so happy to be pregnant.  He has been the perfect baby, always happy, sleeps well, hardly ever cries.  We think this is for two reasons - God is tricking us into wanting to have another one (which is bound to be much more high maintenance than this one)  and that maybe He thought we went through so much to get him here, He would make the baby years easy on us.

There is no possible way to capture the joy we have felt over the past year, there are no words.  I have written Isaac a few letters to try to tell him, but they don't even come close to expressing what it has been like.  I do feel like we have a different sense of things because we struggled to get here, like how you savor a good cake a little more when you know you made it instead of buying it from Publix.  My husband and I have both turned into joyful sobbing and babbling parents at the drop of a hat, and we believe that everything  he does is completely perfect and precious.  If you don't believe me, you can check out the link to the photoshow I made for his 1st birthday party.  It does a pretty good job of summing up everything I have missed updating on my blog.  But beware, it is 36 literal minutes of photographs of our son.  I could watch it a million times (and I have and cried every SINGLE time)  but I would understand if you closed it after a few minutes.

 http://www.photoshow.com/watch/eR9Tm3qQ

So why, you may ask, am I thinking about picking up the old blog?  The main reason is that I am missing too many moments to save for myself.  I have the absolute worst memory of anyone on the face of the planet.  It isn't that things aren't important to me to remember, but I just can't.  Things like the first time I kissed my husband - I have no recollection but I wish I did...  He doesn't either but he is a lot older than me so he has an excuse.  All we remember is that is must have been good :).  The second largest reason is that I do feel like I need the outlet again, mostly because we are most likely going to go through trying to have another baby and I remember this was one of my many saving graces.  Another important reason to me, not that I have grandiose ideas of impacting someone's life by telling my stories, but I do realize there are very little resources out there for Christians navigating through the very rough moral waters of  IVF.  Believe me when I tell you, I do not in the slightest have any of it figured out, but I would like to see how my opinions change and what I discover about what I believe.  A lot of people going through it turn a blind eye and deaf ear to the ramifications, and in no way whatsoever do I judge those people.  I just know that I need to find what is right for me and that maybe by the time I find that out, it may help someone else.  I mean, I just wish there would have been someone with my beliefs out there talking about this.  There will be major foot in mouth moments, I am sure, because I will speak without taking all circumstances into account, but the people who know me are already used to that, and know that I would never ever say anything to intentionally make someone feel bad or feel judged in any way.

See, I already feel better!  Oh and for any of the people that once followed me forever ago about  my weight loss experience, I probably won't talk about that so much now because I feel like I have other things to obsess about, but I will give you guys a quick update.  For those of you that didn't know before I went through IVF the first time, I did the HCG diet and lost 40 lbs.  In fact, that journey, was initially why I created my blog.  It held me accountable.  Well, it held me accountable until I started to gain all the weight back and then I stopped blogging until I had something else to talk about.  Well, I did gain all of the weight back before and while going through IVF, and then gained a whopping 75 lbs on top of that.  I felt like being pregnant, for some reason, gave me a license to eat all the bean burritos and cheese dip that I could manage to stuff in my face, but it made for a completely miserable third trimester.  Had I not gotten a beautiful baby boy out of the deal, it would have sent me into a major depression.  I also, for some reason, thought that the weight would magically fall off when the baby was born, just like it does for all those celebrities.  Well, when I came home and had only lost 15 lbs (5 of which was the baby and the rest was water from all the swelling I had) I realized it was going to be a long road with all this left over fat.

I never do well unless I am on a program, so I tried a bunch of different things (all while trying to be a good Mommy).  The worst was drinking this tea made by a Chinese herbologist that literally tasted like cold ass.  That didn't work.  I tried weight watchers again too, but trying to spare the time to count points was a joke, and I did the calculation.  If I needed to lose 85 lbs at 2 lbs a week, I was going to be fat forever.  I needed something that would work fast, that would give me results.  So I went to a place called the Weight Shop in our town who suggested doing a round or two of HCG with them (doctor supervised, supplements, and injectable HCG with a strict diet)  Since I had done so well on it before, I bit the bullet and tried it again.  I started in March of this year and have lost nearly 75 lbs of the 85 lbs.  I felt like this time was different (I know all fat people that lose weight say the same thing) but I really don't want Isaac to struggle with this and I don't want him to see my struggle with it like I saw my Mom.  So anyway, I am still trying to take off the last 10 lbs or so, but if being a Mommy has taught me anything, its that you gotta cut yourself some slack every now and then.  So we will see how that goes....

Ultrasound 10 weeks 2 days - Our Little Nubbins

Grateful

I was 10 weeks this past Tuesday, and am counting down every week to we can breathe a little easier after the first trimester.

There really are no words to describe the depth of love that I already feel for this tiny baby growing inside me. You can always imagine how that feels, but never breach the true meaning of love for your own child until you have one of your own. I cry every time I think about it.

Although I have been very tired and nauseous, I love the feeling of being pregnant. That at any time of the day I can think about my little one here with me. Our bond has already started and I can’t imagine how much more I will love it when I can hold it in my arms.

Don and I became very cautious about getting too excited after my first couple of ultrasounds that really didn’t show us much. The first time we saw our baby is a day neither of us will ever forget.

I knew I was far enough along that we should at least see the baby at this ultrasound appointment and my stomach was in knots. I could not even allow myself to be prepared if we did not see it. My heart jumped into my throat as soon as the doctor inserted the probe and there on the screen was our baby. I was really not prepared as he focused in on a little flashing bulb in the center of our baby. It was our babies’ heart! I completely lost control and began to cry, and Don held my hand and cried with me. I looked around the room and everyone was crying! Then we got to hear the little swoosh, swoosh, swoosh of the beats. It was simply amazing.
Amazing that God had created this life, half of me and half of my Don, and it was growing inside of me. It was like an out of body experience. Thoughts that I had dreamed about my entire life, but at the same time seemed so foreign and out of reach. I am so grateful.

Our First Ultrasounds

Throughout all the surprises, we still did not know if there was one baby or two. Since we had put two embryos back in we were praying for twins, and my beta numbers were high so the doctor thought it was a good possibility. When I went in for the first ultrasound we were hoping to see two little sacs. We barely saw one. And because my doctor is very cautious only called this one a “possible sac”. So I began to worry again. What if they did not take, what if I lost them early. I read about how it was common for women to lose pregnancies this early and not even know that they were ever pregnant. Impossible for us not to know since we literally knew the first day we could. Would these babies just vanish? Again with the waiting….. We went in for the second ultrasound and the sac was twice as big, but there was just one and we couldn’t see the baby at all. One empty sac. I knew in my heart to be glad that the sac was there even if it was just one, but I mourned for the one embryo that was lost.

It is so strange to mourn for a baby that was never meant to be according to God’s hand. But it did exist, if only for a few days, and I had already let myself dream of double cribs and a baby on each knee. Don especially was happy it could be twins so that they he would not be any older when our second child is born. We both took it hard. The doctor reassured us that this was “Nature’s” way of taking care of things. That women were not built to carry more than one child and the risk was much less with a single pregnancy. After mourning for the one we lost, we decided to rejoice in the one we still had.

But I did become a little cynical not seeing a baby on the ultrasound screen yet. An empty sac was all I had so far. I had read posts about seeing the baby and hearing a heart beat as early as this. I started to question if it was real. I think every pregnant woman goes through this insanity though. Now that the excruciatingly painful waiting of IVF was over, the excruciating waiting of pregnancy began. You are told so many things. Just wait until 12 weeks, then your chance of miscarriage goes down and you can tell your family. Just wait until 22 weeks, that way it had a chance of survival if the baby is born early. I guess now that I am mother, I join all the other Moms in countdowns that never really end. After the baby is born I am sure it becomes wait until they are in school, wait until they graduate, wait until they are financially secure… and so it begins.
Even though we had told just about everyone, and even though we had seen the sac on the ultrasound, it really wasn’t real to us just yet.

More Surprises

When we pulled it together we decided the surprise was so much fun we needed to surprise the rest of our family. My whole family thought my appointment was going to be on Wednesday because it was originally supposed to be. I moved it to Tuesday because it was better for me, but we didn’t tell anyone so we could at least have a day to process it all before people started asking. We realized this gave us the opportunity to surprise everyone so we capitalized on it.

We hurried over to my parents house, who were both still at work. We put up a baby banner and brought the balloons. I had also bought two sets of feety pajamas, one pink and one blue that said “I love my Grandma” and “I’m on Grandpa’s team”. We set everything up and waited for Mom to get home. While we waited on her we covertly called our family to ask if they wanted to go out to eat with us. The nerves and the waiting had gotten to us, and we needed to get away and not think about it, we told them. Mom was running late, so I conjured up a reason I could have stopped by her house and called her. She was just down the street.

We got into our places and as soon as she came it we each held up the pajamas and yelled that we were pregnant. The look on her face was priceless, and we all cried a little. She was so surprised and I loved it.

We were going to wait for my Dad, but she called and he was working late. We had to get to the restaurant so she told him to meet her there. When we got to the restaurant the whole family was in the parking lot. They saw the balloons so we went ahead and told everyone. Everyone except Dad.

When we all got into the restaurant, we made a deal with the waiter. He was going to take the balloons to the back and when Dad got there he would bring them out. So everyone waited anxiously for Dad to come in. He came in about ten minutes later and the waiter brought out the pink and blue balloons and handed them to him. He was surprised too and we all cried.

You would think after all the surprises we would have been surprised out, but we still had two very important people to tell. Don’s boys are 18 and 21, and we really had no clue about how they would take the news. We chose not to tell them about IVF after we told them about Don’s surgery and Don’s ex-wife told them it would never be possible for us to conceive. We just thought it would be easier, especially if it did not work.

I was more nervous about how they would take it than Don was. I just thought how upsetting it would be if they really didn’t care or even were upset about it. I hoped that they would look at our child as a true brother or sister and want to be part of their lives. But with teenagers, you never really know.

We invited them over for an early Easter cookout. I thought it would be a good idea to get them Easter baskets and hide something in them. So I went a little overboard and had t-shirts made for them. Justin was the oldest so I got him a plain black shirt with Big Brother written on it. The word “big” was crossed out and “biggest” was wrote above it. Jordan’s shirt had “Little Brother” written on it with the word “Little” crossed out and “Big” wrote above it. Then we got a little white onesie with “Baby Brother? (or Sister, or Both!) “ written in the middle of it. We stuffed the t-shirts in the middle of their Easter baskets. When they got there, I couldn’t wait and we handed them their Easter baskets. They both pulled the t-shirts out at the same time. They read them and sat in silence. They didn’t get it at first. Then Don held up the baby onesie and it took a minute and they both looked at me and then at my stomach. They were actually pleasantly surprised. They asked questions, and thought of names all through dinner. They both want a little sister. It warmed my heart that they seemed happy about it.

Laughed Until We Cried

So for once in my life, my words seemed to have failed me. I have put off writing about it because there are no words great or deep enough to explain it. Along with the lack of words, I think I have been in a glorious shock, almost not believing it is real.

On April 19th, we had our first beta blood test after the transfer of our two embryos, and although I had an intuitive feeling that at least one of the babies was still with me, I was so very anxious. I had broken down and taken pregnancy tests twice a day and had gotten positives, but Don refused to believe it until the doctor said so. So that day I nervously drove to the doctor’s office and gave blood. They said they would call me around lunch time. I took the day off from work because I figured either way, I wouldn’t be useful. Since I felt like I just knew, I had already made big plans for the day anyway. I find it hard to believe that women don’t know they are pregnant. Because I just KNEW it. I wasn’t really having any symptoms to speak of, but I did have a different feeling, almost like I could feel my baby snuggling in.
I had dreamed my whole life, of that moment when I could surprise my husband that I was pregnant. You see it in movies, you hear about it in country songs. After we got married a song by Jason Aldean came out called “Laughed until We Cried”. There is a verse in the song that literally made Don and I both cry when we listened to it, because we had dreamed of that moment not knowing if it would every truly happen. It went something like this:
Just the other night the baby was cryin’
So I got out of bed rocked her awhile
And I held her tight
And I told her it would be all right
And my mind went back to a few years ago
When we tried so long
We almost gave up hope
And I remember you
Comin' in and tellin’ me the news

Oh man we were livin’
Goin’ crazy in the kitchen
We danced and screamed and held each other tight
We laughed until we cried

That is exactly how we both pictured it I think. But with IVF, you are robbed a little of that moment because you are so focused on finding out and testing. I had a little of that left because Don truly would not believe it yet, so after my doctor’s appointment I got busy. Earlier in the week I had optimistically went by Lowe’s and found a miniature workbench and little tools. Don is a carpenter at heart and loves to work with his tools, so I thought it would be neat to be part of the surprise. I had hid it in our hall closet. After I gave blood they told me they would call around 11:00am, so I lied and told Don they wouldn’t call until around 2:00. I had a plan. I went by a few places to pick up some things for my surprise like a banner and balloons and such, and rushed home to start on putting it together. During this whole time it never crossed my mind that they would call with a negative. I knew Don would be out at work all day so I had time, but when I opened the box, it was literally in a thousand pieces. It helped take my mind off waiting so I hurriedly tried to get it together.

I was sitting in the middle of a pile of nuts, bolts, and screws, with pieces of the workbench everywhere when I got the call. I whispered a quick prayer and walked out on the front porch to answer. It was the sweet nurse from the doctor’s office and she was already crying. “Yes!” she screamed as I felt my knees buckle. Although I had felt that I had known, I was not prepared for the shock. I thanked her through my tears and went inside and sat on the floor and cried. I just remember thanking God over and over through my tears. I didn’t have very much time to revel in our victory because I had to get moving on this workbench. Don called to say he was done with work early so I asked him to stall a little. I think he had a hunch I was planning something.

So in the middle of all the chaos, Jordan, my step son walked in the house. He didn’t know I was going to be there, and we hadn’t told Don’s boys about the IVF, so I think we both looked like a deer in headlights. Here I was in the middle of the floor, sweat pouring and poufy eyed, with balloons and stuff everywhere. He asked what all this was for and the first thing that came to my mind was that Easter was that weekend and I was building the workbench for my nephew. Lame, I know but it seemed to stave off any further questioning. So I moved my workbench and balloons into the bedroom. I knew I only had a few minutes until Don was here and I was hoping Jordan would leave so I could really surprise him.

I had another good cry when I dug a target bag out from under the bed that I had hidden there a year and a half ago. After Don’s reversal surgery and when we first started trying, I secretly bought a baby onesie that said “I love my Daddy” on it with a baby rattle. I always thought if I found out I would not be able to keep it from Don so it would be something I could use to surprise him in a clutch. I didn’t know it would be so long and such a hard road to get to before I could use them.
So I finished the workbench (let’s just say there were some extra screws left over) and I tied the balloons on it. I sat a little stuffed animal with the onesie and a card on top of it with a sign that read “Daddy’s Little Helper. We REALLY ARE PREGNANT!” at the bottom. Jordan left so I breathed a sigh of relief and waited for Don to get home.

When Don came home, his first words were asking if the doctor’s office had called yet. I lied and told him no. A few minutes later I said, “Oh, come look at what the dog did…” and led him to our bedroom door. He followed quickly behind me and was completely surprised when he saw the little workbench. Tears filled both our eyes because he knew the doctor had called. “We are pregnant!” I screamed like I had dreamed of my entire life, and we both laughed until we cried.

Songs that changed my life during this process.

So I am a big song person. I love to find songs that totally connect to my situation and wear them out playing them over and over. It's a coping mechanism I think. When I started this IVF journey, I made an IVF playlist. This consisted mainly of songs that told me to tough it out. Here was my list:
Perfect by Pink
Dare You to Move by Switchfoot
Dreams by The Cranberries
Blessed by Elton John
Hand in my Pocket by Alanis Morissette
Here I Go Again by Whitesnake
Hold On by Wilson Phillips
In my Place by Coldplay
It's My Life by Bon Jovie
Living on a Prayer by Bon Jovie
Keep Holding On by Avril Lavigne
Little Miss by Sugarland
My Wish by Rascal Flatts
Smile by Lyle Lovett (don't listen to this one if you are going through IVF, BAD IDEA)
Let Go by Frou Frou
So Hard by the Dixie Chicks
Sara Smile by Hall and Oates
True Colors by Cyndi Lauper
Stand by Rascal Flatts
Wonder by Natalie Merchant
When you Love Someone by Bryan Adams
I Would Die for That by Kellie Coffey

I know, its a random smorgasbord, but it helped me through. On the days it just felt really tough Stand and Keep Holding on were great. On the days I felt completely alone, Little Miss and Perfect by Pink totally helped me feel stronger. Anyway, so the hardest song to listen to was the one by Kellie Coffey. I had read on other blogs it was the best song about going through IVF so I downloaded it without even listening to it. At this point I think I was driving every morning to the doctors office for ultrasounds of my follicles and at the height of my hormone injections. I got in the car and the song literally came on as I backed out of the garage. Here are the words:

Jenny was my best friend.
Went away one summer.
Came back with a secret
She just couldn't keep.
A child inside her,
Was just too much for her
So she cried herself to sleep.

And she made a decision
Some find hard to accept.
Too young to know that one day
She might live to regret.

But I would die for that.
Just to have one chance
To hold in my hands
All that she had.
I would die for that.

I've been given so much,
A husband that I love.
So why do I feel incomplete?
With every test and checkup
We're told not to give up.
He wonders if it's him.
And I wonder if it's me.

All I want is a family,
Like everyone else I see.
And I won't understand it
If it's not meant to be.

Cause I would die for that.
Just to have one chance
To hold in my hands
All that they have.
I would die for that.

And I want to know what it's like
To bring a dream to life.
For that kind of love,
What I'd give up!
I would die for that.

Sometimes it's hard to conceive,
With all that I've got,
And all I've achieved,
What I want most
Before my time is gone,
Is to hear the words
"I love you, Mom."

I would die for that.
Just to have once chance
To hold in my hands
What so many have
I would die for that.

And I want to know what it's like
To bring a dream to life.
How I would love
What some give up.
I would die ...
I would die for that.

Needless to say, by the time I got a few miles down the road I was crying so hard I couldn't see straight. Definitely was not prepared, but it touched my heart so much that I played it over and over that day. It is a sad song, but it was me...it was exactly me. And somehow it made it better that I was not the only one.

Another song that meant a lot to me is I Won't Let Go by Rascal Flatts. My husband is a man's man. He only listens to music for the music, and rarely listens to the words. One day we got in his truck to go somewhere, this during all my injections when I felt so sick. When I feel sick I just get really quite and kind of withdraw to myself and so we were driving pretty silently. This song came on, and I listened to the words and thought what a great love song. I didn't expect that Don was listening to the words, but he reached over and grabbed my hand and squeezed it and held it tight until the song was over. He didn't even have to say anything, but at that moment, I didn't feel so alone in the whole process. He doesn't even know that it meant that much to me, but it did. Here are the words:

It’s like a storm
That cuts a path
It’s breaks your will
It feels like that

You think your lost
But your not lost on your own
Your not alone

I will stand by you
I will help you through
When you’ve done all you can do
and you can’t cope
I will dry your eyes
I will fight your fight
I will hold you tight
And I wont let go

It hurts my heart
To see you cry
I know it’s dark
This part of life
Oh it finds us all
And we’re too small
To stop the rain
Oh but when it rains

I will stand by you
I will help you through
When you’ve done all you can do
And you can’t cope
I will dry your eyes
I will fight your fight
I will hold you tight
And I wont let you fall

Don’t be afraid to fall
I’m right here to catch you
I wont let you down
It wont get you down
Your gonna make it
Yea I know you can make it

Cause I will stand by you
I will help you through
When you’ve done all you can do
And you can’t cope
And I will dry your eyes
I will fight your fight
I will hold you tight
And I wont let go

Oh I’m gonna hold you
And I wont let go
Wont let you go
No I wont

This was one of those moments when you know that you are exactly with the person you are supposed to be with. In those quiet moments that you say nothing, but will remember the rest of your life. In that moment, I knew I could do this, that WE could do this.

The Wait...again

So like I have said before, the hardest part of this whole process is the waiting. Little did I know that all those times before when I prayed for patience, God was saying, "You have no idea what you are asking for...." because boy, was he getting ready to teach me. Although I don't feel like all this waiting has really taught me any more patience, it still drives me completely bonkers. After the transfer, I went home and got in bed for three days of bedrest. The first day, me and bed rest were friends, but the second I was not so excited, and the third, I was totally losing it. I had never ached from being in bed before. Stupid thing to complain about at this point, but nonetheless it was trying. Especially when you have to wonder the entire time what the heck was going on inside you. I started to analyze everything...was that something? No, just gas. I nearly had a panic attack when I sneezed on the second day. I would stare for periods of forever at my little picture of our embryos, but didn't dare let myself imagine what they would look like or what we would name them. I was still getting over the soreness of the retrieval and I think I watched about every movie in our local "red box".

I had secretly already stacked up on pregnancy tests, because I just knew I was going to be "that person". I had read that by 5 days after the transfer, all the hcg I had injected would be gone and I could legitimately test. Well, I couldn't wait that long. Staying true to my very impatient self, I tested at day 4. It was completely negative and no matter how long I stared, a line just would not form. "Okay, I told myself, this is a good sign, all the hcg is out of my system...If I get a positive from here on out, I am definitely pregnant.

So I tested that afternoon, the next morning, and every half day up to my blood test. That is a lot of tests!!!!