Go with God Frostie.

In the words of Tyrone Wells, “Momma always said that hate was a strong, strong word. Poppa always said that words of hate should never be heard. But I’m getting older and I just cannot lie, there are things I hate, no matter how hard I try.”

I hate infertility.

I hate waiting for THE call.

I hate hearing the words “Chelsea, I am sorry to tell you that you are not pregnant.”

I hate even though my heart knew, my body has a physical reaction to the words.

I hate saying goodbye to Frostie before I even got to say hello.

I hate the tears. And I hate that they continue to replenish, even when you are certain there can be no more left.

I hate feeling this hopeless.

I hate wondering if the power of prayer works.

I hate questioning why God is bringing us through this miserable journey, only to break our hearts over and over and over and over again.

I hate that I don’t think I can fight this anymore.

I hate that I feel like giving up. I hate that instead of continuing to walk through the fire, I want to lay on the floor and let it just destroy me already.

I hate that even though I know He has not forsaken us, I kind of feel like He has.

I hate that if we decide our hearts can handle this again, we have to come up with $20,000 and repeat the whole process again.

I hate that insurance doesn’t cover this. I hate that if I couldn’t breathe right, it would cover my nose job, or if I accidentally got pregnant, it would cover my abortion. Yet my insides are broken and they can’t even cover my blood work to figure out what might help.

I hate our den. It was supposed to be a nursery a long time ago.

I hate being strong. I hate being weak. I hate feeling crushed.

I hate feeling angry. So so angry. I hate feeling this confused. I hate crying out “why?”

I hate that I am already anxious about the Christmas card “Surprise! We are expecting!” announcements that seem to come in every year.

I hate that mature couples who should have a family will now feel bad about sending us said card, sharing their news.

I hate that my heart wants to be a mommy so bad and that no matter how hard I fight, no matter what we do, God hasn’t give us that life yet.

I hate the holidays. I hate that they are reminders of more and more years passing without children of our own to create memories with.

I hate that I miscarried on Christmas last year and now that day feels tainted. I hate that the song Frosty the Snowman will always bring back memories of this baby of ours.

I hate birthdays. I hate knowing everyone around me is growing older and older and my kids will never know THESE versions of them.

I hate disappointing the spirits of those around us. Family and friends that get so invested and have their hearts hurt with this news as well.

I hate feeling like God failed my expectations.

I hate that the sun is shining today.

I hate that there is no (legal) pill to take this pain away.

I hate that even though my heart will heal, it will never be the same again.

I hate that I know the “right” things to say to me right now, yet my heart is too broken to absorb it.

I hate that Cali won’t be around forever, thus I can’t just pretend like she is my forever child.

I hate making me people bad for me. I really just want to be a mom. I want to experience having my own child, raising them to love Jesus. Teaching them silly things. Loving them with everything we have.

I hate that people judge us for not adopting if we “really want a child that bad.”

I hate that my womb is broken. I hate how awful that feels.

I hate being defined by this. I hate never knowing what the future will hold. I hate that my life revolves/revolved about shots and timing, appointments and lists of dos and don’ts.

I hate that Miley Cyrus keeps sticking out her tongue.

I hate seeing people who don’t believe in the Giver of Life, be blessed with children. I hate opening my US Weekly only to see all these people in these sordid relationships, blessed with a baby.

I hate wondering if I am being punished for sins of my past, which then makes me doubt His forgiveness and mercy. I hate doubting His character.

I hate feeling sorry for myself when I know God’s gift of Jesus is all I really need.

I hate I can’t take a forgetfulness pill or have my memory of all of this erased.

I hate that Portillo’s is so far away, as an italian beef and cheese fries would be the perfect comfort food right now.

I hate that I can’t watch Josh as a daddy. He will be such an amazing dad. You should see him make children laugh and smile. I hate feeling guilty for not giving him children yet, even though he has never ever made me feel bad about that and constantly reassures me we are in this together.

I hate that I don’t have a job to distract myself with. I hate that He led me to quit in order to try to start our family.

I hate that as much as you try to empathize, unless you have been in our shoes, you’ll never really get it.

I hate that in hopeful spirits, I kept buying baby outfits. I hate having to hide them, knowing that I may never be able to use them.

I hate that I just don’t know what’s next for us.

I hate that my evening shots caused large numb spots on my thighs and butt.I hate that I have lost complete feeling about the side of a flattened basketball on my left side.

I hate being told “don’t give up.”

I hate that I can’t pray for myself right now.

But with all that hate, there are many things I am grateful for and I don’t want them to go unnoticed:

I am thankful that we were spared a miscarriage and potentially another blood level nightmare.

I am thankful that those who prayed for Frostie, will continue to pray for us now.

I am thankful that when I am sad, Cali won’t leave my side.

I am thankful that even when I am so angry, the radio songs still play songs of His praises and my lips can still form the words even if my voice is gone.

I am thankful that even as I type this, I feel Him with me.

I am thankful that regardless of my heartbreak, my soul still knows He is a good God. Experience has shown He is to be trusted, even though its so so hard.

I am thankful that I don’t have to question if it was something I did that resulted in a negative result. I know if it was meant to be, it would have been, regardless.

I am thankful that God knows every one of our embryos by name. All 20 that have been created, including those 7 which I was blessed enough to temporarily carry.

I am thankful in advance for your kind words and appreciate your understanding that I may not be able to reply for a while.

I am thankful for my husband. For my home. For our health. For our families. For our church. For my small group. For my TTC community.

I am thankful for music. It is a tender therapy and the words to “Praise You in the Storm” by Casting Crowns and “Even If” by Kutless will bring us much comfort in the time to come.

I am thankful that I can turn over my fear to Him and receive His perfect peace. Right now its me that needs to move closer to Him, He hasn’t left me.

I am thankful tonight I can take a sleeping pill and hopefully fall into a deep sleep to make up for the many sleepless nights lately.

I am thankful for the reminder that God doesn’t make us wait just to torture us. (Thank you Caroline for your blog post this morning, reminding me of that.)

I am thankful for soft tissues to soak up the tears.

This hurts. This hurts so badly. “How can you mend a broken heart.  How can you stop the rain from falling down? How can you stop the sun from shining? ….Please help me mend my broken heart and let me live again.”  I feel so weak. I want this all to just go away. Please, if you could, say a prayer for us. For healing, for guidance, for direction and for contentment in this season. For our Lord to come intimately close to us, and for us to draw close to Him so that we may feel His comfort and praise Him in this storm. We are done for a while. It’s time for a much needed break. More lost time but perhaps some answers to what our future may hold.

In the words of my last blog post, “Lord, please give me the assurance that you are present and capable of whatever our future holds. Amen.”

still good (1) still good (2)

meet frostie.

Ready for some great news? I am officially a PUPO! Now for those of you who haven’t heard that expression before, its one used often in the TTC community – it stands for Pregnant Until Proven Otherwise.

And I can’t wait for the day when I can drop the –UPO.

Let’s rewind. Last I left you, we were sharing and celebrating in the exciting new of having the opportunity to transfer our last embryo, God willing it made the thaw. We were so blessed by all the pledges of prayers and encouraging words we received. God brought a supernatural calm about the transfer and even when my nerves started to act up, He blessed me with Josh who would calmly de-escalate the situation and remind me Who was in control.

So let’s walk through these last few days, starting with Friday!

Each transfer Josh and I go out to breakfast together and celebrate our “last meal” as a two-some. This time was no different. We headed back to the place we went to the times of our first and third transfers since both of those cycles resulted in pregnancies. Walking out of the house I gave Cali a last kiss goodbye as an only child (God willing!) and we were off!

Bye Baby! Next time I see you, I will have your brother or sister inside me!

Bye Baby! Next time I see you, I will have your brother or sister inside me!

On our way!!

On our way!!

The embryologist and I had a long talk the day before and she let us know the thaw would start at 9:45 am. She said that typically embryos don’t always look great right away but once they are back in the incubator they perk up. She said this process takes up to an hour and they would know by 10:45 if it wasn’t alive/viable. GULP. She said if it wasn’t viable, they would call us and let us know not to come in. She said the only reason they wouldn’t call and it may end up not transferable is if it was hanging on so close that they were taking it minute by minute. She did reassure me that thawing success at my clinic is extremely high and she had high hopes for our little one.

Trust me, 9:45 – 10:45 seemed like the longest hour! Thankfully we were at breakfast, then heading to the clinic so we were a little distracted. When no call came at 10:45 we both had a big sigh of relief! There was still hope! As soon as we checked in, we asked the lab for an update, only to find out that Frosty was doing great and completely viable for the transfer. PRAISE GOD! I may have gotten emotional. *surprise*

Fast forward to acupuncture. Amazing. I so highly recommended doing a pre and post transfer session in the clinic the day of your transfer if that’s an option. Truly, I still am unsure about acupuncture itself, but the treatment that day is so incredibly calming and therapeutic. I was wrapped in warm blankets, a heating pad, slightly high on Valium and had 30ish minutes of peace and quiet to simply pray and prepare for what was ahead.

Josh snuck a shot. For those interested the majority of the needles are in your tummy, legs and feet, with just a couple in my ear and one in my forehead. You don't feel a thing, honestly!

Josh snuck a picture. For those interested the majority of the needles are in your tummy, legs and feet, with just a couple in my ear and one in my forehead. You don’t feel a thing, honestly!

Then the nurse came and got us. We felt like seasoned professionals at this point. Yes, take this. No, won’t do that. Yes, can do this. Change into this, yes. Sign here, okay. Please wait.

Scrubs and gown on - ready to go back!

Scrubs and gown on – ready to go back!

(Side note: Our first transfer Josh annoyingly nicknamed our embryos (Daniel) Boone and (Davy) Crockett, who apparently had some impact on hunting. He always talked to Boone and Crockett and was constantly met with an eyeroll from me but somehow those names stuck. So it only seemed fitting for Frostie’s sibling to make an appearance at the transfer.)

Boone on the left and Crockett was on the right sock.

Boone on the left sock and Crockett was on the right sock.

After that, it all happened quickly. We met our doctor, a new one for us. She told us she liked to listen to Norah Jones during transfers which was fine by us and reminded us of family who likes to listen to Norah. We got to see the picture of Frostie and heard the great news that he/she was hatching. (An embryo hatches from its outer shell once its developed enough and is moving on to find a new food source. This shows strong development of the embryo. And guess who gets to be its new food source … ME!) It was the most comfortable, pain-less transfer to date. Once we saw little Frostie get transferred, I was so emotional. We made it to this point. God deserves so much glory.

Because its hatching, it almost looks like a little snowman head on top! We loved Gods sense of humor.

Because its hatching, it almost looks like a little snowman head on top! We loved Gods sense of humor.

Daddy's first picture with his little one!

Daddy’s first picture with his little one!

Some more resting. More acupuncture and then we were sent on our way for 48ish hours of bedrest. Josh and Cali take such good care of me while I am immobile. Well, Cali mainly just crowds me out and is always watching me, but Josh takes care of meals, pillow resituating and puts up with endless amounts of girly DVR shows.

Hey, Mom, I'm right here!

Hey, Mom, I’m right here!

Hey Josh, my feet are hot. Can you take my socks off?

(3 minutes later)

Hey Josh, my feet are cold. Can you put my socks on?

Hey Josh, I’m thirsty but this water isn’t hitting the spot. Can I get a ginger ale?

Hey Josh, I have to go to the bathroom, can you help me up?

Hey Josh, I’m hungry.

Hey Josh, Cali needs to go out.

Hey Josh, I’m hot again. Can you take the socks off and crack the window?

The man is a true saint, I kid you not.

So the next few days we relaxed. It’s been cold out here so being indoors is fine by me! We even had our first couple snowfalls while on bedrest. Of course none of it stuck but it was magical and reminded me of Frostie.

Lots of time resting!

Lots of time resting!

I am feeling good so far! I have been allowing myself brief activities each day, like a 30 minute venture around Target simply to walk around. Or a relocation to a coffee shop to sit with my book for an hour. I even took a brief walk up and down the street although Cali was slightly uncooperative since she apparently didn’t think I should be walking around.

Don't. Take. Another. Step. Mom.

Don’t. Take. Another. Step. Mom.

And now we wait. Gosh, God has been teaching me so much during this wait. In past waits I have been extremely anxious. And at the beginning of this wait I was too. Day 2 was hard for me as I started to compare how I felt this day 2 to the other past cycles. Having many other cycles to compare it too feels like a curse, as I would give anything for that blissful excitement that the first wait brought. Anyways, Josh and God continue to remind me that if this baby is meant to be our on-earth baby, then NOTHING will prevent that from happening. God is in complete control and I am nothing but a vessel at this point. I have felt a sense of calm wash over me and I am so grateful for His peace. I know that if I am pregnant, it’s all in His miraculous doing. And if I am not pregnant, than He will scoop us up and comfort us once again. There is nothing I can do at this point except take care of myself and the embryo inside of me.



Our nightly routine ... Feeding Frosty a fine diet of estrogen and progesterone. My bum isn't a fan but it's so worth it!

Our nightly routine … Feeding Frosty a fine diet of estrogen and progesterone. My bum and hips aren’t really a fan but it’s so worth it!

I know many of you often ask what you can do or how you can help someone struggling with infertility or recently going through IVF. Truthfully, meals are such a big blessing. On the days I can stand and cook, the issue is that I can’t get the grocery bags from the cart to the car and from the car to the house due to my lifting restrictions. And while Josh is a great helper, grocery shopping isn’t his forte (3 hours later for a list of 10 things) and I would much rather see him in the evenings after being home alone all day. We have been so blessed with meals in the past (and this time too!) so this isn’t a passive way of asking for meals for US, but it’s a helpful hint of what you can do for a friend going through a similar situation. Even if you aren’t a cook, a gift card to a local restaurant makes the world of difference.  (Again, this isn’t said for US but for you to help someone else in a similar situation if you are looking for a way to. And I guarantee that they will likely tell you “No, it’s okay!”. Do it anyways. Drop it off on their door with a note. Don’t make a big stay out of it. Most of the time we are often on showering restrictions too and the thought of someone seeing us with day 3 old greasy hair is embarrassing.)

Thanks Jana for the yummy taco soup!

Thanks Jana for the yummy taco soup!

So now what – well, I do have some specific prayer requests –

  • “Tomorrow” is the day in my past 2 cycles where I have started bleeding and/or spotting. It is so scary to see and I just pray that I can make it through tomorrow – and God willing the next days – without having to deal with the awful scariness of early bleeding. Please pray for calmness in my heart as I face this.
  • Continued peace and assurance that God is in control. He is our Hope and I don’t want any over thinking to cause me to lose glimpse of His peace. The devil has some nasty schemes!
  • For Frostie. At this point, if it’s going to become a baby, it has attached already. Now we need to pray that it sticks there and makes itself comfy for the next 9 months. It if hasn’t attached already then it hasn’t been receiving its nutrients and the cycle is over without us knowing it yet. Please join us in prayer that it has implanted, in the right place, and correctly, and that my body doesn’t reject it.

We continue to be so blessed by your texts, your prayers, your encouragement, your notes. We feel strongly that if this baby is meant to be the baby we one day hold in our arms, nothing can stop God from making that happen. I reread this quote yesterday and was struck by how true it was:

“Worry is allowing problems and distress to come between us and the heart of God. It is the view the God has somehow lost control of the situation and we cannot trust Him.” Ah. Such truth. We have no reason to worry. God has proven time and time again that He is still in control of this situation and that regardless of our human emotions, He can still be trusted. We need to go to Him with each worry and turn it into something that brings us closer to Him, instead of something that makes us doubt His goodness. For example, when I am worrying “Oh this embryo isn’t going to implant. I am going to have to go through this all over again.”, I reject that thought and immediately turn it into a prayer (drawing me closer to Him) – “God, I pray that you would place your hand over our embryo at this moment and help it to implant. Give me the reassurance that you are present and capable of whatever our future holds.” In changing our worrisome mentality, we immediately stop the devil in his tracks and gain power from the one who sustains.

worry reminder

So that’s it my friends! Thank you for joining us again on this journey. I hope to report back with some miraculous news sometime in the next week or two! Virtual HUGS!

love, loss and news.

We prayed. We asked that God would put in our hearts what was next for us. I took several blood tests. All of which came back in proper ranges and negative for everything that could be concerning. Good news. We met with the doctor. “What should we do?”  She recommended doing another fresh cycle with a different protocol. “Because you only have one “C” embryo left, let’s do another fresh cycle and transfer the best embryos back. And hopefully add one more to your frozen embryo so you could do a 2-embryo transfer in the future.”  We prayed. We contemplated. We weighed our options. Yes, a fresh cycle with strong embryos sounded wonderful. But neither of us could forget about our little less-than-average embryo that was waiting for us. “Your odds of a pregnancy are much higher if we do another fresh cycle.” We kept hearing our doctors voice in our head. But both of our hearts felt called to our little frostie baby first.

So we made the decision. We were going to proceed with a frozen cycle based on the hopes that God had big plans in store for our last embryo – “Frostie”. Our doctor completely supported our decision. We made our consult appointment. We paid our bills. We scheduled our transfer for September 26th. I would be starting shots at the end of August. We knew without a doubt that this frozen transfer was the right decision. But we continued to pray for God’s timing to be displayed. Instead of praying for a sign that it was His time, this time I prayed that if it wasn’t His timing, that He would throw up a roadblock. A clear, can’t-miss-it sign that September 26th wasn’t meant to be the transfer date.

Later that same day we paid for the September 26th transfer, the call came in. “Your blood work went up.” Less than a week later I was canceling our September 26th transfer as we found out the D&C would be necessary.

I asked for a roadblock and I got one, clear as day. I was frustrated because I wanted God to be like “Yes of course this is My time! Go for it!”. My bags were packed for our cruise. We requested a fridge in the room to house my shots. My doctors note allowing me to travel with needles and such already packed in my carry on. And then the roadblock.

September 26th was not meant to be our transfer day.

I will never know why. But I sit now, weeks later, in complete awe at the simple answer to prayer that He created, especially when my will and wanting was so different.

Days passed. Then the nurse called. We were cleared to start our Frozen Embryo Transfer (FET) cycle again. My numbers were zero.

So we proceeded with starting. And again, praying, God, if this isn’t Your timing or Your will, please create a roadblock.

This FET would be different than all the other cycles in the past. I would be using different injections and high dosages to receive the estrogen I needed. I would be adding and changing other things as well. We had no idea if my body would respond to this. Truthfully, I think I anticipated my body not responding at all and that being my “roadblock”.

We (I) made the conscious decision not to share this cycle prep with anyone. (Josh respected and agreed to my request.) I was exhausted. I didn’t really want to think about the cycle. I wanted to wake up, give myself my shot, pop a pill and go about my day. Repeat at night. My mind couldn’t handle anyone asking me how I was. Updating people. Telling people “Yeah, the medicine didn’t work. The cycle has been cancelled.” I stood with my hot flashes, too stubborn to admit that the shots were to blame. I was too exhausted some days to get off the couch. I am sure people just thought I was insanely lazy. But still, I chugged on. It was beautiful not being defined by how I was feeling/doing by everyone I encountered. Yes, I know. Their intentions would have been wonderful. But my heart and brain just didn’t want to think or talk about it. At all. I felt like I got to be a “normal” person when really, if they had seen my stomach, they would have known by the bruises I wasn’t all that “normal”.

You see, for so many cycles I have relied upon YOUR support, your encouragement, your words to keep me going. But I felt God quietly whisper in my heart Let me be all the support you need. And so we marched forward, the future of if my body would be ready for a transfer unknown. Only Him knowing my specific needs each day.

We cleared the first appointment. My lining was thin, ovaries quiet. Then we added more meds. And waited, prayed, hoped. My heart so cautiously scared yet optimistic. I knew that if this transfer was meant to happen, then the medicine would work. My hormone levels would be as they should. My lining would be okay. And if not, another clear roadblock.

Last Friday I went into the clinic to hear the wonderful news that this protocol worked. My lining was ready and perfect. Now we just needed to take some blood work and check that pesky estrogen level. They like to see it between 200 – 400, but will cautiously take anything above 100. Last time I was a miserable 112. I had no idea what to expect. So imagine my pleasant surprise when the nurse called that afternoon and didn’t tell me “The cycle is cancelled.” But instead “Your levels are 391! We are set to move forward with the transfer.”

Praise God! Oh He is so good.

So what does all of this mean? It means I am EXCITED to share with you all that this Friday, Josh and I hope to have the God-given opportunity to transfer our last little embryo into its home for hopefully the next 9 months. I say hope to have because there is still one more big step between now and that moment of transfer – our little guy/girl has to survive being thawed. It’s a complete unknown if it will. We pray with every piece of our hearts that it does. But we will not find out if it made it until we get to the clinic Friday morning. The emotions thinking about that possible joy or heartbreak is overwhelming.

So – surprise! For the last 30+ days, my days have included many shots. If I have broken out in a sweat around you or looked a painful color of gray, it was because of the shots combined with the lack of sleep.

 A tiny look at my secret life lately.

A tiny look at my secret life lately.

So PLEASE join us in praying for:

  1. The thawing of our embryo.
  2. The transfer itself to go smoothly.
  3. That this is IT.

Today also marks a special day in our journey as it is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. Throughout this journey, Josh and I have had little ones join our Father earlier than we would have liked. It’s interesting, for those who have lost a spouse, the word “widow” is given. For those who lost a parents, the word “orphan” is used. For those who have lost a child – well, too often it simply goes unsaid.

preg loss

“Unless you wear a T-shirt emblazoned with your children’s names or tattoo them on your wrist, you rarely speak their names aloud no matter how much you need or want to tell others. And for women who have struggled with pregnancy loss, there seems even less place to mention the love they feel for babies they will never have.” (NY Times article today)

So today is the day we remember. Today is the day not to be ashamed of the sadness you have felt. In fact, on this day, there will be a “wave of light” spread throughout the world. From 7 pm – 8 pm in each time zone in every part of the world, candles will be lit to remember those babies who have been lost. So please, I ask, if you are home tonight, even if its not at 7:00, please lit a candle for those who have lost their precious babies. It’s not an image that will likely ever be seen but the significance is incredibly touching and moving.

(Great, now I am crying at Starbucks. Yes sir, the one watching me, if you have a Kleenex to share, that would be great.)

I saw this photo on Instagram earlier today and it touched my heart so much.

hold them

What would God say to my little one about me? As I pondered that today, I couldn’t help but pray, with all my heart, that it is something similar to the song I had been listening to ironically at the same time:

May Your love cause us to open up, cause us to open up our hearts.

May Your life cause us to shine so bright that we bring hope into the dark.

Great is the courage to give as You’re calling.

Make me an instrument of Your peace.

May we love as You love.

I hope that I am living a life that causes God to whisper, “Look at your Mom. Her heart is open. She is shining so bright. She is bringing hope into the darkness around her. She is brave. Aren’t we so proud of her?

(That may have been the hardest sentence and image to imagine and type. More tears.)

So as we move forward, join us with confidence as we trust whatever God has planned for us. Perhaps another roadblock. Perhaps a glorious ending to this present suffering. Perhaps another lesson learned. A heart more dependent on Him. The possibilities are endless. And we are jumping in wholeheartedly.

Now off to find some tissues.


sneaky grief.

Have you ever had a dream that felt so real, that when you woke up from it you were shocked to realize that the dream reality wasn’t the real reality? I had one of those last night. Which is somewhat odd for me because in general, I am alert enough in my dreams to recognize it’s a dream. But last night was different.

Last night I dreamt that I went in for an ultrasound (not at my clinic but at this strange looking 2050 doctor office warehouse-center) and upon getting a check-up, the doctor told me “congratulations! It’s time.”

Me: “Time for what?”

Doctor: Time to deliver! You are pregnant.

Me: What? I am? Aren’t I supposed to be pregnant for 9 months? I’m pregnant?

Doctor: It’s different for you this time. You got to pass over everything. You are pregnant and your baby is about to come!

Me: I’m pregnant? Is this real life? Are you sure? Is this a dream?

Doctor: Yes, I am sure. This is not a dream. Get ready Mama!

Me: Are you sure? I can’t take any more pain in my heart. I am pregnant? I am going to have a baby?

Doctor: You are going to have a baby. You are pregnant. This is not going away.

Me: I am going to have a baby? Are you sure?

Doctor: Yes, I am 100% sure. Enjoy this. You are going to have a baby.

Me: You aren’t joking me? Are you sure I am not dreaming? I am going to be a mom? Are you sure?

If you can’t tell, I was incredibly redundant in my dream. Asking over and over and over again – “are you sure?” and the answer always was “yes, I’m sure. This is it for real.”

The conversation with the doctor felt ages long. To a point where my subconscious actually started to believe that my pregnant self, was a reality.

Imagine my surprise when I woke up.

It took me a painful minute to realize that the dream in fact, was a dream. It was the most real-life conversations I have ever felt in a sleeping state, to the point I had actual tears of joy on my face. When that reality hit that the sweet taste of relief that this struggle was over was simply a dream, well, it was more devastating that probably makes sense to you as a reader right now.

I have no idea how my heart managed to find such contentment and peace in the fact that I was “pregnant”. But then, to have it turned off so abruptly, at 3 am, defied a logic my brain could handle.

I was so sure this battle was over.

There is a John Mayer song which lyrics spoke so directly into that moment. “When you’re dreaming with a broken heart the waking up is the hardest part. You roll outta bed and down on your knees and for a moment you can hardly breathe.”

It’s funny how grief can hit you when you least expect it. For crying out loud, I was SLEEPING. Can’t I be protected from it in my dreams? Sometimes we forget that the process of grief is spontaneous. It catches us off guard and suddenly we are left dealing with the reality and pain that our hopes and dreams aren’t what we expected. That a part of our heart is missing. Grief is its own phenomenon and can just be messy at times. I certainly wasn’t expecting to wake up facing it.

I say this all simply to validate that grief in this journey is okay. No one is immune to it or protected from it entirely. It happens in its own space, in its own time. It can be overwhelming at moments and easier to swallow at other times. Tears shed aren’t always out of weakness; they are sometimes out of a heart that loves so much.

I read a quote by CS Lewis that says ““For in grief nothing “stays put.” One keeps on emerging from a phase, but it always recurs. Round and round. Everything repeats. Am I going in circles, or dare I hope I am on a spiral? But if a spiral, am I going up or down it?”

There are days in this journey I feel like I am making traction upwards. And others where it seems like my heart takes over and the plunge happens. In these moments, I am so thankful for the arms of our Father.  Simply there to provide a small glimmer of peace midst a racing heart and a weary spirit. Psalm 22:24 (MSG) says “He has never let you down, never looked the other way when you were being kicked around. He has never wandered off to do His own thing; He has been right there, listening.” This verse brings so much comfort. He doesn’t look the other way. He is always there. When my heart is grieving, He is right there listening.

“I love the Lord because He hears my voice and my prayer for mercy…. Let my soul be at rest again, for the Lord has been good to me.” (Psalm 116:1, 7 NLT)

For those of you fighting your own grief, hang in there. You’re normal. Grief happens. But when it does, take it to the One who holds all our tears, fights all our battles, and never looks the other way.

I do have a prayer request and that simply is for sleep. I have been struggling to sleep at night for about 6 weeks now. I can sleep a little but constantly wake up and don’t get restful sleep. I know its aiding to my mental weariness and physical exhaustion. So if you could, prayers for a healthy sleep pattern to return would be a real blessing.

I will leave you with this cute picture of Cali from earlier today. We created our own little pumpkin patch for her to visit. (By we, I mean me and her, haha.) She clearly was amused enough to not want to sit normal but display her balancing trick instead. If I could get this dog into show business, we could have endless attempts at IVF. HA!

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Happy Wednesday!