resolve to know more.

April 23, 201415 Comments

This week marks an important week in the world of infertility as it is National Infertility Awareness Week (NIAW). It’s a week where people can unite and help educate others about infertility and what it all entails. I have been so grateful that thanks to my blog and social media, we have been able to share our own story and build a network of support as we fight this.

Infertility affects 1 in 8 couples. 1 in 8. That’s tragic. It’s a disease that doesn’t discriminate – it touches men and women. The highs on this journey can be high and the lows can be devastatingly low. You can’t just dip your foot into this world. When you deal with infertility, you tend to be all in – invested fully with your heart and body. There are days when you feel fine and then without any warning, something triggers your emotions and you unravel very quickly. You learn to grieve as you are forced to face your own reality over and over again. Infertility is hard on relationships as you navigate feelings of brokenness, guilt, jealousy, frustration, sadness and anger. There are friendship causalities along the way.

This year, RESOLVE has set the theme for NIAW by spreading the message “Resolve to know more”. This can be taken in many different ways – for those supporting someone with infertility, it may be resolving to know more about what to say to your friend or learning more about the disease they face. For those struggling with infertility, it may be resolving to know more about when to see a fertility specialist or knowing more about the options ahead for your family. (Check out the links at the bottom of this page with lots of resources!)

To my readers that are supporting someone that is struggling with infertility:

Thank you. Thank you for reading this. Thank you for being interested enough to spend time investing in your knowledge of infertility. Thank you for trying, caring, and loving us. In the spirit of education, here are some great ways to support someone you care about: Let your friend know you care. Become educated in what they are struggling with, not to offer advice but to be more aware of what they are suffering from. If your friend chooses to open up to you, please act interested. Ask them what they need. If you are friends with the husband, don’t forget about him either. Often times it’s even harder for men to talk about how this is affecting them. Support them in whatever they decide, whether that’s pursuing treatments or not. You know Mother’s Day and Father’s Day? Remember them on it. This is often one of the most painful holidays that we encounter and simple acknowledgement of us on that day means so much. Offer to come to doctors appointments with us if you can. We may not take you up on it, but it means a lot to know that you care to do so. Pray for us and offer hugs and simple words of encouragement. We truly are so blessed and lucky to have you in our lives. People like YOU make this struggle easier.

To my readers that are newly diagnosed or quietly struggling with infertility:

I am so sorry. I am so sorry that you have to go through this awful heartache. I am so sorry that your heart breaks as you navigate baby shower and listen to pregnancy talk without anyone being aware of your pain. I am so sorry that you are scared – not knowing what’s ahead and worrying about what your future may hold. If I can offer you any advice, please take the time to learn about when it’s time to talk to a doctor. 91% of people who struggle with infertility wish that they had sought medical attention earlier. If you don’t feel comfortable with your current doctor or the plan, find someone else. If you are uneasy about what you are being told, do some research yourself. And try to find someone to talk to, even if it is completely anonymous. Start an instagram account that is not linked to your facebook account or last name and search for hashtags like #ttc and #infertility. There will be an entire world of support available to you behind those doors. Or tell a close friend that you can trust. It is so difficult to suffer silently. I wish I could give you a hug. I completely understand the decision to be quiet about your battle but know you may receive so much more support than you realize.

To my readers who are vocal about their infertility:

Thank you. Thank you for being the voice of many. Thank you for being willing to share your story. Talking about infertility has become so taboo since it deals with sex and intimacy. Your bravery is shining. Please don’t give up. Don’t lose hope. Continue to advocate for yourself. Be in tune with your emotions. There may be a time where the depression that is linked to infertility battles becomes too much and you need to reach out for help. Many reproductive specialists will offer the names and numbers of counselors to talk to. Take advantage of their professional support when you are feeling so overwhelmed by this. Do everything you can to not pick the scab on your heart. Don’t be afraid to grieve but also don’t be afraid to laugh. Speak up when someone has hurt you but don’t personalize everything. Remember to ask yourself what the person’s intentions were, as it likely wasn’t to inflict pain. Know that you are valuable regardless of what your family looks like. You matter.

To everyone reading this today, I challenge you to pray for someone that is struggling – even if you are someone struggling yourself. Maybe it’s someone you know or someone random. (Check out the hashtags of #niaw and #1in8 on Instagram or Facebook. Your page will be flooded with the faces of couples who are battling this fight.) Pray for a healthy pregnancy, pray for healing of their bodies, pray for wisdom for them as they navigate their treatment options, pray for peace to flood their hearts, pray for their spirits and their joy to be refilled, pray for their faith to be strengthened, pray for their marriage to withhold the stress of this struggle, pray for the medical team working with them and pray for those in their life that support them.

Josh and I are 1 in 8. We are doing everything we can to not let this disease define us and it’s one of the hardest and most heartbreaking situations we could ever imagine going through. Yet, still we have hope because we are not alone in our fight. We have a Savior who stands with us in it all, we have the love and support of many, we have the wisdom of doctors and we have each other – all of this certainly sets us up for success.

Here are some resources for those wanting to learn a basic understanding of the disease of infertility, for those who want to learn more about National Infertility Awareness Week, or that wants to read more facts from my NIAW blog last year.

it’s friday, but sunday comes.

April 18, 201415 Comments

As I sit in front of my computer, I keep praying that I would somehow blink and when I open my eyes, this post would be fully written and God will have somehow written out the words I am to write today. Because honestly, blogging on Good Friday feels enormously overwhelming to me, simply because I have so many thoughts and emotions running through me that I know that I will not be able to do justice to articulate what today means.

Today is Friday. Today is the day my Lord was beaten, spit on, stripped, mocked, restrained, humiliated, laughed at, forsaken and killed. Today is a day that Jesus willingly walked in to, knowing what it would cost Him. (“Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours be done.” Luke 22:42) Today is the day where eternity was changed, where my sins, my disgusting behaviors, were nailed to the cross and the curtain was torn, making personal, daily relationships with our Savior possible.

Today overwhelms me. Today reminds me of the cost that was paid for the ability to spend eternity with my Lord. So often we fast forward through today, we lump this weekend together as “Easter weekend” and speak merely of the resurrection, but we forget about Friday. We forget about the pain, the death, the sorrow, and the sacrifice that was needed in order to get to Sunday.

If you have never seen this video, I encourage you to watch it. It’s based on S.M. Lockridge’s sermon and I can’t make it through the first “It’s Friday …” without the tears welling up.

“It’s Friday. The world’s winning. People are sinning. And evil’s grinning. It’s Friday. The soldiers nail my Savior’s hands to the cross. They nail my Savior’s feet to the cross. And then they raise him up next to criminals. It’s Friday. But let me tell you something, Sunday’s comin’.”

Here’s the thing, Sunday does come. Just as Jesus went through Friday and Saturday, He got to Sunday – and what a beautiful, victorious day that was. Sometimes in our life, we go through seasons of Fridays and Saturdays. The days of grief and pain, the days of feeling forsaken and the days where it seems everyone has turned on you. We go through the silence of the Saturdays. Where we mourn and we don’t know what’s going on. The pain is so confusing, the comfort we thought was coming doesn’t come and our world seems empty. And perhaps our Saturdays stretch into long periods of time, feeling like they will never end. Why? Why is this happening? We begin the prayer of Jesus and ask for the cup to be removed, the pain to go away, the trial to be lifted. We deserve that! We deserve our miracle. We don’t deserve to go through this pain! Ah, our selfish hearts. We forget to follow up our prayers with the second half of Jesus’ prayer in Luke, “Nevertheless not my will but yours be done.” Here’s the thing though, Sunday does come. Sunday may take a little longer to get here for some of us, but Sunday does come. There is victory to be found. It may not look like what you imagined it to look like, but I guarantee, it will be better than you expected. The stone will be rolled away. The linens will be stripped off and there will be freedom found.

“And being in agony, He prayed more earnestly…” (Luke 22:45a) How often, when we are in great agony, do we pray more earnestly? I tend to find myself in those times simply complaining more, venting more, talking about it more, but do I pray more earnestly? Do I begin to sweat like great drops of blood falling to the ground? That intense prayer. That’s what praying not my will, but yours be done looks like. That’s trusting in our Father.

Today is a reminder to me that even Jesus, the Son of Man and Lord of Lords had to suffer. (And suffer doesn’t even seem like a nearly strong enough word, it’s been far too dulled down.) My “sufferings” seem so small, petite, tiny, minuscule, compared to what He went through. Today empowers me to remember that because of this weekend – because of His death and resurrection – we have already won. We have all we need.

Craig Groeschel says, “The right perspective changes everything. When all you can think of is what you want to complain about, you can be pretty miserable and ungrateful. But when you shift your focus, your heart changes. Instead of being poisoned by ingratitude, you’re transformed by gratitude and contentment.”

My prayer for all of us this Easter is that we can become more aware of the sacrifice we have been given and then, begin to shift our eyes and our focus from ourselves and our own sufferings, and develop a spirit of gratitude for all we have been given, starting with the gift of salvation for those who choose Him.

Sunday comes. God wins. Death is squelched. Praise the Lord!!!

field trips, jokes and fresh air.

April 16, 201414 Comments

I just sat down at the coffee shop. Okay, by “just” I mean about 3 and a half hours ago, but I am finally getting to writing a post. It’s an easily distractible world! There is the constant commotion at the counter, visitors stopping by (Hi Mom!), the chairs getting moved around, eavesdropping on others conversations … I find myself being so grateful to be out of the house for a change that I am finding a whole new appreciation for the sounds of the milk steamer and clanking of change as people throw in a few cents as a tip.

The cutest old man walked up to me and asked me if he could sit at the chair across from me. He carried over a muffin and a cup of coffee and despite the open chairs all around, apparently just wanted some company. So across from me he sat at our little 2 person table with my laptop in between us. He asked what I was doing and saw my Bible sitting next to me from a study I was working on. “Oh. I used to read that when I was 16.” He has told me a few jokes, but not without first asking for permission. “Do you have time for another joke?” He made a few cute comments about winter and when I told him to be safe on the roads, told me that I was taking all of the adventure out of his day by giving him orders like that. I heard a story about his friends Tom, Dick, and Harry (yes, it did end up being another joke, but not the kind that you’re imagining, the punch line was about a pet bird being eaten.) And then he said goodbye, got another muffin to go and is back out on the roads. It was refreshing to see someone pursue interaction like that and he left by letting me know that he would be celebrating Easter. So cute.

Anyways, it’s me, Chelsea. I realize I haven’t posted in 2 weeks (yikes) and wanted to apologize for that. I just opened my laptop today for the first time since my last post. And can I be honest? I am so OVER my last two weeks that I don’t want to talk about it at all. For those of you who aren’t friends with me through another social media avenue, I need to let you know that surgery went very well and that the doctor found no endometriosis, that my tubes are open and that there was no visible organ issues. The only thing she found was a polyp on my uterus that she removed and will test, but said that she wasn’t concerned whatsoever. So that is good news – it eliminated many concerns and we are thankful for that. Unfortunately it didn’t answer any of the questions about the pains I have been having, but I will process all that another day. I meet with my doctor on Friday now to go over the pictures and hear from her exactly what she saw.

The last 2 weeks have included the surgery, many naps, the death of a wonderful family friend who’s absence is incredibly felt, a lot of love received in the form of texts, cards, emails, flowers, gift cards, ice cream, coffee and meals, time at our urgency center finding out I have a nasty intestinal infection that may or may not be related to the surgery, IV bags of fluids, pills, pills and more pills, tears, gaining 7 pounds of bloat and then losing 15 pounds of bloat (and hydration), a desperate call to my bestie (who thankfully was having a slow day at work), several word vomit texts, finding out sad news on a few different levels, and finally – finally! – rounding a bend just yesterday.

I am tired of talking about myself. I am tired of not feeling well. And contrary to my last post, am tired of being asked how I am doing, because then I have to answer and feel frustrated that I am not feeling “fine”. I kept trying to keep everything in perspective – it would pass, the sickness and soreness was not permanent, and in perspective of what others were dealing with, was so small. But my brain was (is) so tired. I just want to be past everything. I don’t like complaining. I don’t like that a week ago those stupid pains came back, the ones that the surgery would hopefully fix. I hate that after all this, we are still no closer to our family than we were before – in fact, all the physical fighting done in the last 12 days didn’t even have anything to do with that (which maybe is why it felt so overwhelming?). I don’t know. I am just so glad it’s over. Can I say that? I am praying each day is better than the day before and NOTHING ELSE HAPPENS.

So today was my field trip day. Despite attending a wake last week and dragging myself through church on Sunday (thankfully without passing out), I’ve been painfully secluded due to feeling so icky. (Granted, I had some family visitors and when I am not feeling well, would rather be alone, so friends, please don’t feel bad for not visiting.) But all in all, today has been a great day. So seriously, thank you Lord for bringing healing!

My old man visitor today made me smile. The fresh air, despite it being cold and blizzardy, has been refreshing. My hot tea has tasted delicious and my latest book has brought a smile to my face. Today is beautiful. And as I sit and listen to my music, I feel His presence sitting on my heart, reminding me that I am not alone. That none of this is in vain. That He has uniquely designed me to need Him above all else. And so, yes, I wish I had handled my attitude the last 2 weeks a little differently. I wish I hadn’t allowed myself to feel so mentally drained and I wish that I would have turned to His Word more than I had turned to the TV, but we learn right?

“You calm the storms and you give me rest. You hold me in your hands, You won’t let me fall. You steal my heart and you take my breath away.” (Lifehouse – Everything)

do something.

April 2, 201422 Comments

“I just don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

This is something I frequently hear and I can be honest, yes, sometimes people say the “wrong thing”. At times, it’s intentional, someone suffering “worse” than you and wanting to cut into your heart so it makes them feel better. (I will never understand this.) But other times, it’s simply someone saying something with good intentions but with naivety to your emotions and it catches you off guard, causing you pain as you reflect on the conversation.

Both offenses are forgivable with the right heart. The intentional persons words being dismissed and often causing me more sadness to know that someone is struggling so much and without any joy. The naïve friend’s words let go because I know their hearts are in the right place, even if the words stung.

But what I am learning is that it’s the people who say nothing that hurt the most.

It’s the people who know you had a tough week and avoid eye contact and walk the other way. It’s the friends who don’t respond to your text messages when you need them the most. It’s the awkward land when you know they know what’s going on and yet you never hear from them.

I am constantly touched by the people who reach out, the ones who send emails, texts, Facebook messages, cards. I can’t tell you how much it fills my heart to get a message from someone I haven’t talked to in 10 years letting me know I am in their prayers. When people share that they have cried with us, it moves me in a way that is difficult to put into words. It means something. It’s not awkward, in fact, if you have been following along quietly on someone’s story – anyone’s! – I strongly encourage you to reach out. It’s the supporters that come along side us that mean so much, it keeps us going.

You may not know what to say. You know what’s perfectly acceptable? Admitting “I don’t know what to say, I just want you to know I am thinking about you.” You don’t know what to do? Send a card. You don’t have their address? Send a Facebook message or ask a mutual friend. This doesn’t just go for someone dealing with infertility, this applies to anyone struggling with something painful. The loss of a family member. Being let go from a job. Struggling with financial payments. Hearing news that a spouse wants to separate. Surviving a miscarriage. Watching a wayward child make painful decisions. Hearing of an illness. Dealing with post partum depression. Just feeling a little lost.

Do something.

I have dropped the ball many times. I hear about a friend who has gone through something difficult and mean to pick up the phone, and then too much time passes and I never do. I see a Facebook status about a tough time and have the best intentions to connect, but forget. I have many cards and emails that go unwritten and phone calls that don’t get placed.

So often we don’t want to say the wrong thing, which is why I am a firm believer in simple words like “praying for you” (only if you really are) or “thinking about you”. The power of a $5 gift card to a local coffee shop or a bouquet of flowers dropped off at their door goes a long way. It doesn’t need to be something huge; it just needs to be something that says I care. It doesn’t need to be financial, many aren’t in the place to do that, it just needs to be something.

When you are at a low point, when the circumstances around you seem suffocating, it can often be painful to face the day. I remember after one of my miscarriages wondering around Cub Foods in a daze, somewhat shocked that people were smiling and laughing and talking about the weather. But it’s in those moments, when someone comes up besides me and just reminds me that I’m not alone, well, it means the world to me.

Shauna Niequist writes “When you are in that place, it’s a gift to be asked how you’re doing, and most of the time the answer comes tumbling out, like water over a broken dam, because someone finally asked, finally offered to carry what feels like an unbearable load with you.”

The simplest questions go a long way. What can I do? How are you feeling? Do you want to talk about it? Please be respectful of the location in which you ask these questions. If you are whizzing past someone in the church lobby, gently touch their arm and say “Hey, I saw what’s been going on with _____ . I just want you to know you are in my thoughts. I’m really sorry you have to deal with this.” The church lobby (or any very busy place) is NOT the place to say “Hey, I heard you miscarried last week. Tell me how you are feeling. How are you dealing with this?”

Don’t feel like you have to say something profound. It’s not about you having the magic words as it is about the person you are talking to simply knowing you care. If you have the resources, send a gift card for a dinner (Chipotle or Buffalo Wild Wings can brighten anyone’s day, right?) or make a meal. A note or text goes a long way. Just remember that your words, your care, might be exactly what the person needs to survive another day. Life is hard, we need to be there for one another.

And please, when you ask someone how they are, give them the option to say “I don’t want to talk about it right now.” Some days it hurts too much and you are too vulnerable to want to discuss it. That’s when simply knowing someone cares enough to ask means so much.

I apologize to anyone who I have let down by not being there. I am amazed at how my heart aches when I feel let down by a friend who doesn’t seem to care and I know that I likely am the cause of such heartache too. It can be a tough cycle to break outside of yourself and your own difficult season to show you care. But it’s worth it. We live in a world of vague Facebook posts hinting at something difficult and yet, many of us are too afraid to send the message to say “What’s up? Are you okay? I’m not sure what you are going through but I notice.”

So do me a favor today, do something for someone. (No, this isn’t about me. Do something for someone else. I am incredibly blessed.) Maybe it’s a comment on their Facebook wall or Instagram picture. Perhaps it’s grabbing a card at Target or sending an electronic gift card. It may be time for you to pick up the phone and send a text or make a call. Even something as simple as “liking” a Facebook post or blog post simply acknowledges that you know and care. Chances are as you are reading this, you are thinking about who that person is that you should reach out to. Do it. It may mean much more than you know.

In other news, my surgery has been scheduled and will be taking place THIS Friday, the 4^th at 9:00 am. I met with the doctor earlier this week and feel very confident going into it. We will know what was done, removed, and briefly seen that same day and then I will meet with her on the 18^th to review all the pictures taken and talk about what was seen in more detail. Thank you in advance for all your prayers as we go into this. Specific prayer requests would include:

Surgery itself: for the hands of the doctors and nurses working with me, for the anesthesia, for the pain management afterwards and for whatever needs to be done in the operating room to go smoothly.
Minimal discoveries: we are praying hard that no body part needs to be removed (ie: fallopian tubes, ovaries, etc.) and that if there is anything found, that it can be treated easily while they are in there, avoiding a second surgery.
Recovery – The surgery itself is done by filling the abdomen with gas and recovery afterwards can be painful since not all the gas can always be removed. The incisions (typically 3-4 plus your belly button) can get itchy and we are praying against infection.

A brief look at how they do the surgery – simplified! For mine they will navigate all the way up to the liver then back down.

Answers: at the end of the day, we pray that God will provide us with some answers and wisdom as to what is going on.

Thank you again for your prayers. We are heading into this surgery after having a nice relaxing vacation with Josh’s family in Mexico last week and so I leave you with a few pictures of what our last week held. Gorgeous isn’t it? I’ll update as soon as I am able post-op. Thanks again for your prayers!

Thanks to my father-in-law and hubby, we snagged a front palapa every morning and had this gorgeous view!

I spent many hours floating in the pool with my book and an arnie palmer. Perfection!

The “quiet” pool.

We had an amazing dinner on the beach one night – what a view!

We made a few visits to the spa – relaxation at its finest!

On the plane on our way down!

Getting ready for dinner one night.

No vacation is every fun without a fish face selfie!

what’s next ….

March 21, 201412 Comments

“So what’s going on with you?! Any updates?”

That seems to be the question directed at me lately and I am so thankful for the people in my life who care about me enough to ask. I’m sorry to say that I have passively replied to it with a “Things are going good! Looking forward to spring.” answer and changed the subject. The truth is I haven’t really felt like talking about infertility, TTC, and Me lately. Life-After-IVF is such a different pace with less updates and sometimes the updates that I do have feel so personal. (I know that sounds funny coming from the girl who has a blog.) When we were in an IVF cycle, I knew exactly what was going on, what was next, what we could tentatively expect and how you could specifically pray. Now that I am not going into the doctor every 2 days, I don’t know what the next week will hold. Pushing me for more answers just makes me shrug because I don’t know what to say. Do you want me to start talking to you about my cervical mucus and how often we are baby-dancing? I didn’t think so.

But I do have a little update. No, I am not pregnant. We have just hit another little road bump, but one that will hopefully bring us some answers.

I blogged back at the beginning of February that I was working with my OB on some weird symptoms and pains that I was experiencing. We went through some preliminary testing without many, if any, clear answers. Unfortunately the pain I have been experiencing has increased to the point where we are a little concerned which has resulted in scheduling a laparoscopy and hysteroscopy surgery. We are praying that with it, we will be able to find out some answers about what’s going on with these pains I am dealing with. (For those in the IF world, these are not pains consistent with endometriosis, which I have never been diagnosed with, but also don’t have any other symptoms in line with. But its certainly not off the table.)

So what’s a laparoscopy and hysteroscopy? Well, under general anesthesia at a surgery center, my doctor is going to go into my body through my belly button, cervix and a few other belly incisions, to get a live look at most of my organs. The ultrasounds we have done in the past can only show us so much in black and white. The laparoscopy will be able to use cameras to see everything as is. Because of the pain and the unknowns, we will be doing a broader organ assessment than necessarily typical of someone struggling with infertility. My doctor will be able to go all the way up to the gall bladder duct (I had my gall bladder removed in 2008), then follow down and check on my liver, bowels, intestines, appendix, pancreas, uterus, ovaries, and fallopian tubes. She will be able to biopsy anything that looks suspicious (God-willing that is nothing), as well as flush out both tubes to ensure there is no blockages since we last checked in 2010. (Hey, a lot has happened since 2010! Anything is possible.) She will also be able to remove some cysts that lurk thanks to PCOS and if there is anything else visible and fixable (like adhesions, polyps, fibroids or infections) take care of it at that time (typically done with a laser). Thanks to doing the hysteroscopy at the same time, we will be able to get a good look at both the inside and outside of the uterus.

There truly could be such a wide variety of issues going on that I have tried to remove myself from Google until we know more. I hope and pray that it is nothing serious. The surgery date is being firmed up in the next few days and it looks like it will be scheduled for the first week of April.

What’s ahead? I wish I had more answers for you. While this surgery will be able to look at my reproductive organs, the primary reason we are going through it is to diagnosis if there is anything more serious going on. It’s difficult to figure out what’s “normal” given all that my body has gone through the last few years. At times, pain can be evidence that something in your body is changing. It may be a good thing! Both Josh and I, as well as our doctor, feels that it’s better for everyone’s peace of mind to just know if it’s anything serious and be as proactive as possible to get on top of whatever the issue may be.

So, the answer to your kindly asked questions is still somewhat unknown, but thankfully I will know more in a few weeks. I promise that if there are any updates, changes in plans, news, or progress made in the infertility department, I will certainly let you know. In the meantime, try not to press me for details about “what’s next” for us because truly, I am not sure. If I’m being honest, that question (Now what are you doing to try to have a baby?) can make me feel like we need to be doing something else other than waiting on God’s timing, as we both feel that He has us holding off on another IVF cycle at this time. Our biggest hurdle right now is getting through this surgery, possible running a few biopsies and checking out my organs, cleaning a few things up and continuing to trust that God is in control of all of this.

I will let you all know the exact surgery date soon so you can be praying for us during it. I feel like most of my hurdles in the last few years have been primarily mental – I mean, granted, there have been other surgeries, but the mental part of the game has been so predominant that the physical side effects have been easier to embrace. I feel like the physical part of this surgery is a little heavier than the others so ask for prayers for a quick recovery (a week or two to get back on my feet, possibly a little longer to feel 100% depending on what they do while they are in there), as well as all of the pieces that go along with surgery (anesthesia, multiple incisions, internal healing) to go smoothly.

Am I anxious about it? Honestly yes, at times. But it’s at the point where I just want some answers. Will it help my fertility? Possibly. But this isn’t an optional surgery to increase my fertility, it’s a diagnostic surgery to try to figure out what’s going on with my insides. And whenever I start to get a little nervous about these unknowns, I always manage to come across some words that instantly calm me down. One line that has been echoing in my heart lately is a quote from Samuel Rutherford – “Trust God’s Word and His power more than you trust your own feelings or experiences.” This whole time in my life has been an opportunity to walk by faith, not by sight, and so we trust and hand it over to Him.

Truly, thanks for asking how we are doing. Consider this a mass update and if we are close, I am so sorry that I wasn’t able to share this with you in a more personal way. But I genuinely appreciate your care and kindness and value your support more than you know!

Oh and PS – let’s celebrate another shorter cycle! We have gone from 63 days, to 41 days, to …. 37 days. Making progress! :) Praise God!

I’ll be taking off blogging for about a week as we enjoy some time with family so keep your eye out for a post at the beginning of April with more info on the surgery date. With that, I’ll leave you with a picture from St. Patty’s Day. Enjoy! :)

Me and my little leprechaun, who is obviously thrilled with her hat.

laughter.

March 19, 201424 Comments

They say laughter is the best medicine … and I agree! This blog has been more seriously lately and truly, I am not a Debbie Downer serious person. So I decided to spice things up with some things that have made me laugh recently. I have found that in this whole infertility journey, if you don’t learn to laugh at yourself and the situation, then you will drown quite fast. Now, I have a darker sense of humor when it comes to all of this, so if you are sensitive or feel uncomfortable laughing at the awkward, feel free to skip this post. I will post next time more in tune with my typical style of writing. But for tonight, let’s laugh.

You can thank Pinterest for this slew of infertility-related comics. (Anyone not actively TTC, you may not appreciate these as much as those who are.) Josh and I were literally in tears laughing the other day. Some of these are so true that it is nothing short of hysterical. I mean, these are the cards we have been dealt, why not make light of it every now and then? So, without further ado, happy laughing. :)

HAHAH! If you are having a hard day today, I hope this made you smile. If we don’t have the same sense of humor, then I at least hope I didn’t make you cry. <eeeeek>

Have a good night friends!

10 things to stop doing …

March 11, 2014March 11, 201433 Comments

I recently came across a powerful list of Things to Stop Doing If You Want to Support Someone with Infertility. *I love it*. I couldn’t not share! (What’s that rule about double negatives? I don’t think I’m following it.) You can click here to read the whole article in full, but below are the 10 things that the article listed with my own personal commentary. My goal in sharing these are to help educate those who support someone going through infertility. Now as you embark on reading this, please keep in mind that this post isn’t meant to make you feel bad for anything you have done or said in the past. I don’t hang on to those things, especially if it’s from someone that I know genuinely cares about us. Same goes for in the future – if I know your care is sincere, it is a lot easier to dismiss things that may typically hurt me. I am sharing this so that you can simply educate yourself and perhaps prevent hurting someone with infertility in the future. With that, I bring you 10 things to stop doing if you want to support someone with infertility!

1. Stop Thinking You Can’t Be Supportive Because You’ve Never Struggled with Infertility.

One thing I have learned throughout this journey is that you don’t have to have walked my walk in order to be empathetic and caring about our struggles. You may never have had your grandmother pass away, yet you can still have compassion when someone loses theirs. The same goes for infertility. You may never have had a miscarriage, but that shouldn’t stop you from caring and saying “I don’t know what to say, but simply know I am so sorry for your loss.”

Just say something. Do something. You can never go wrong with a card, flowers, or food. And try to remember that we (infertiles collectively speaking) don’t just feel pain after a failed cycle or a miscarriage, we carry it every day, it doesn’t go away. Please don’t ignore it. (There will be a whole other post on this topic another day!)

2. Stop Assuming We Don’t Want to Hear Anything About Your New Pregnancy or Your Kids

Please don’t be awkward and NOT talk about what’s going on in your life! It’s uncomfortable when you start a story about “your ki….” and then quickly end it to avoid saying the word “kids”. I won’t combust, I promise. Just be respectful and don’t choose me as your audience to complain endlessly to. Typically though, I enjoy hearing stories about your family and pregnancy in moderation.

I am frequently asked the best way to “break the news” that someone is pregnant. Honestly, I truly prefer being told in an email or via text. I know that seems so impersonal, but it gives me the ability to process without having you stare at me for a reaction. Also, if you chose to do it in person, please don’t make it the entire conversation about it. I dread when someone calls me up and invites me to coffee to “tell me something”. I know walking into the coffee shop that the next hour will be spent listening to pregnancy talk. *Ouch*

Oh, and please don’t apologize for being pregnant. I don’t want you to be infertile. I also don’t want to spend 10 minutes comforting you about feeling bad for me. You are pregnant, own it. Don’t say you are sorry. (And if it was a mistake, wasn’t planned, isn’t the gender you were hoping for, it’s safe to say you can omit that from our conversation.)

I appreciate a heads up if you are going to share it to a group of people with me there. If we are really close, I also appreciate knowing that you are trying so I am not caught off guard when the announcement comes. (Obviously this is my ideal world.) Again, these are just my preferences, but one I know some other gals share as well.

3. Stop Endlessly Talking About Your Pregnancy

The article says this well: “Too much pregnancy talk just reminds us how much we’re missing.” Just know your audience when you are going to gush for an hour about how wonderful (or awful) it is. This includes former “Tying to Conceive” (TTC) girls too. Please remember to be sensitive to the fact that we are still on this journey. We will celebrate with you and genuinely care about your 9-month journey and after, but be respectful as to not rub our face in it.

4. Stop Asking If We’re Pregnant Yet

I know you want to know. And I know that you want it just as bad for us as we do! But whenever I am asked that, I have to say “no” out loud, again and watch your face pity me. It’s really hard! And when the time comes, it will take all the fun out being able to share. A simple “how’s life?” will suffice.

5. Stop Telling Us We Can “Always Adopt”

Adoption is not a “fall back” plan. It is something that comes with its own calling. And if it’s ever something we choose, know that adoption will not simply take away all of the pain and struggles that comes with our own infertility story.

6. Stop Giving Unrequested Advice

Please. I know your intentions are SO good. But as the article says, it can often times feel condescending. I promise you, I am researching all sorts of things. Your suggestions sometimes can imply that we are causing it ourselves or that we aren’t bright enough to figure out something. (Ohhhh, so you are supposed to just relax! Take a vacation! Eat a pineapple. Put my legs in the air? Well, gosh, we have been doing this all wrong!)

We will ask you for your thoughts, opinions and advice if and when we want it. In the meantime, know that we are reading as many books as possible, looking into everything we can to understand our cards better and humbly ask that you don’t share every story you read on infertility with us. I realize this may sound incredible ungrateful for your caring heart, and there may be certain exceptions, but in general, less is more.

7. Stop Speaking on the Universe’s Behalf

The words “if it’s meant to be, it will happen,” make me sigh such a gigantic sigh that I think my lungs might burst. I KNOW THIS. I know and trust that God is in control. Please don’t keep reminding me that it’s completely out of our hands. I am very well aware.

8. Stop Accusing Us of Not Appreciating the Good in Our Lives

This is a tender one for me. I understand that I am so blessed to be where I am in life. I know that being a stay-at-home wife is wonderful. I know that we are blessed to be able to vacation and go out to a movie on a whim. I am thankful that I can sit in front of the TV and watch an hour of Parenthood uninterrupted.

Anyways, what I am saying is that it is possible for me to value the blessings I have and still feel sad. I am extremely aware of how richly blessed we are. Please don’t constantly tell me that. It feels like you are diminishing my sadness.

9. Stop Telling Us How “Lucky” We Are to Not Have Children

I can’t say it better than the article so here is what it said: “Yes, we know, kids are loud and don’t allow you a moment to yourself, kids never let you sleep, kids get in the way of sex, kids are a hassle. And we still want them. We are not lucky to not have kids; our lives are not easier for the lack of them. In fact, infertility also takes away the quiet inner moments, infertility keeps us up at night, infertility destroys our sex lives, and infertility is a hassle. Instead, admit that you wouldn’t give up your kids even if it meant you’d have more sleep and less stress. If you would rather trade in your kids for peace and quiet, then please keep those thoughts to yourself, as they’re not very flattering…”

10. Stop Invalidating Our Feelings and Reactions to Infertility

“It could be worse.” and “At least it’s not …” … all of these comments simply feel like you are invalidating how I am feeling. There isn’t a right or wrong way to respond to something that hurts. We are doing everything we can to trust God and stay afloat in this. If you don’t know what to say, simply ask “How are you?” or if you can’t be genuine with that question and empathetic with our answer, then I ask that you simply say nothing.

tears and comfort.

March 6, 201422 Comments

Infertility can feel like a never ending roller coasting.

There are days, weeks even, when your hope is so high. You are leaning into each turn, you are riding the hills, you are feeling strong, determined and positive. You can just feel that God is in control. You know it in your bones, your heart, your core. “WE WILL BEAT THIS!” You have an anthem, you laugh, you tickle your friend’s children and you smile as you pass the room that will someday be your nursery.

And then out of nowhere, you have a sad day. It’s not like just a “kinda in a funk” day, it’s a day where the tears just flow and your heart breaks. You don’t want to hear one more kid story. Your newsfeed suddenly makes you gasp for air as you take in all of the pictures of children and pregnancies. You shut the door to the nursery, you cry out God, why? You lay at His feet and just cry.

As I process through the emotions that come along for the ride, I am convinced that tears are okay. They aren’t a sign that you lack trust in God. (“Jesus wept.” John 11:35) They aren’t a sign that you are a bad Christian. (“I am worn out from my groaning. My eyes flood my bed every night. I soak my couch with tears. My eyes blur from grief.” Psalm 6:6-7a) They are a sign that you are human. That your heart is fragile and that sadness is a real emotion. (More on Sadness here)

I sat at a coffee shop last week with a special friend and we talked about these days. When it all just seems to crash down and you have no choice but to face the pain you are experiencing and bring it to Him.

God is equipped to handle your tears. He is equipped to handle your worries and your hurts. And even more than being equipped, He cares. (“Turn all your anxiety over to God because He cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7)

Some days, when we have these moments, it is so helpful just to know that someone relates. I think that’s why having things like blogs and communities are so helpful. Are we going to be okay? Will we get through this? Will we be successful? What’s next?

I don’t know the answers to all those questions, but I can tell you one thing, I care.

I know what you are going through. I feel your pain. I hate when those moments catch me off guard. I hate that it’s hard to make future commitments because I don’t know what will be going on with my journey. I hate that one day a pregnancy announcement can be met with a genuine “congratulations” and the next day, tears.

In a recent Bible study, we were studying the story where the disciples tried to stop the children from coming to Jesus and Jesus stopped them and told them to let the little children come to me. I have read this story many times and this time, a line stuck out to me – “… taking the child in His arms…”

I thought about this tender act of holding a child. For many men, this act doesn’t come naturally to them. I remember watching Josh hold a newborn for the first time – it was like watching him try to embrace a glass football. And then I thought – what if …

What if Jesus felt the same ache for a child and family as we do?

I can imagine He was surrounded by families. He watched His friends grow up, marry young, have kids, raise a family. Granted He was surrounded by His disciples who left everything to follow Him, but yet, He witnessed the beautiful bond of a parent and a child everywhere He went, and with great empathy as well.

The more I thought about it, the more I wonder if our aches are more real to Him than we can even imagine.

He gave up so much to come as a sacrifice for us. Perhaps taking that child into His arms was a comfort to Him, reminding Him of how much He loved us and how worth it is was to give up His humanly desires to accomplish something much greater.

But that simple act of tenderly holding the child in His arms brings such comfort to my heart. Because maybe He knows far beyond what we could ever imagine.

Now of course I am making assumptions here and I am not trying to rewrite scripture or say something is definite, but that small story, that request to let the children come to Him, touches my heart in a very special way and brings a comfort that only He can.

So simply know this – on those days when the tears are falling, He is there. On the days when you struggle to find the reason for this, remember that trials do serve their purpose. There is an end to our afflictions. He does remove hardships when His purpose in using it is fully accomplished. (Note I said using it and not causing it.) Charles Spurgeon wrote “It is not difficult for the Lord to turn night into day.”

Take a breath today. Remember that you are not alone. Take comfort in the fact that He cares for you, deeply, and that I do too. Tomorrow will come, the tears will dry up, your hope will be replenished and you will keep on fighting, because you, my friend, are a conqueror.

flappy bird.

March 3, 2014March 3, 201425 Comments

Hi, my name is Chelsea and I play too much Flappy Bird.

I didn’t mean to get addicted. My husband came home from a church high school retreat in January and casually asked if I had ever heard of Flappy Bird. The answer was no and as I watched him lay awake at night trying to dart a bird through some pipes, I thought, Gosh, that game is a waste of time! I didn’t even ask to try it on his phone, I was NOT going to waste my time on that silly game.

A few weeks later I saw something on Twitter about Flappy Bird disappearing the next day. What? As I investigated more, sure enough, the app creator was removing it from the iTunes store after realizing it was becoming too addictive to people.

Huh? It’s going away forever? You mean I won’t have the option to download it later? What if I decide I want to play it? Or what if I am missing out on something? And how could someone allow themselves to become addicted to a game like that? That would never happen to me …

Seconds later it was downloaded on my phone. Just in case it really did go away the next day. (Which it did.)

It started casually. One night after exhausting other mindless things to do I clicked on it. A few gentle taps and my bird dove to the ground.

New game.

Tap, tap, tap, tap tap tap, tap …

2! I made it through 2 pipes!

This was a lot harder than I thought.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap tap tap, tap ….

Fast forward to a few weeks later. Tap, tap, tap tap tap …

Last week I laid in bed tapping, methodically trying to get my little red bird through as many pipes as possible when I was hit a challenge, I needed to blink, but I couldn’t.

Okay, not couldn’t, but wouldn’t. If I blinked I would have to take my eyes off the screen for a split second and surely would plummet to the ground. 74, 75, 76 – I was flying through the pipes, but I needed to blink! My eyes!

*Blink*

Plummet.

DANG! I knew that I had to somehow work in my ability to blink while playing the game. The next 20 minutes were spent trying to train myself to blink and play at the same time, but whenever I would think about blinking and attempting it, I would dive into a pipe. One game I got my left eye stuck trying to re-open from a blink, but was too afraid that the movement would distract me too much from the game and ended up playing a round of 85 with only my right eye. (It ended because I blinked with my right eye and well, you know the story from here, plummeted.)

I knew I had a serious problem when I sat there tapping and started to refuse to blink.

Mind over matter, keep tapping! Do. Not. Take. Your. Eyes. Off. The. Screen.

Ahhhh, my eyes! So dry! Can. Not. Blink!

Well that game ended because my contact fell out of my eye. I kid you not. Apparently blinking is not something you can just will yourself not to do.

I found my dried, shriveled contact on my blanket, I set my phone down and walked away. I will forever remember that my score of 102 was at the expense of my contact.

(proof)

But all this made me think – I fell into a moment where I could not think of or do anything other than what I was focusing on. It became impossible for me even to blink because I only allowed myself to have one thing that could hold my attention. It reminded me about how easily we can fall into that same routine when we are going through something or worrying about an issue. We can become so focused on the obstacle, the challenge, the trial, that the simplest act of living can be put on hold as we obsess over our circumstances.

My Flappy Bird experience reminded me that I have to have balance.

It can be so easy to get drawn into our Thing. I can start to focus on infertility and all that surrounds it – the what-ifs, the how-comes, the why-thems, and it’s like I forget to blink. Infertility starts to define my life instead of being a small part of what I’m facing. It was a great reminder to me that it’s okay to want something, but it’s not okay to lose myself in the process. I have to blink.

John 10:10b says “I [Jesus] came that they may have life and have it abundantly.”

Regardless of our situations, we are meant to experience life – all of life, not just one piece of it.

The definition(s) of “abundant” are as follows: richly adequate, occurring in great quantities, generously supplied, abounding.

When we tap into our great resource, our Source of joy, He is able to provide us a life that is richly abounding. It doesn’t mean we won’t have challenges – life is made up of different seasons, the good and bad, but with Him as our focus, not our circumstances, we can recognize that all of our needs are generously supplied.

I have been able to ease up on my Flappy Bird addiction. I still can’t figure out how to blink and play the game at the same time. And because of that, I am not able to enjoy the experience as much. So for the sake of my contact supply, I will cut the ties. It won’t be easy, but a balance is necessary, as is blinking. Today I encourage you, stop being consumed by your Thing. Being focused on anything other than Him will only lead to you plummeting. And, well, we all know plummeting is no fun!!

bookstores.

February 19, 2014February 19, 201422 Comments

Bookstores are one of my favorite places on earth. Every Friday as a child we would hop into our Buick LeSabre and head over to the mall bookstore. Each week I got to pick out a new book, which typically would be a Baby Sitters Club book of some sort. In 1^st grade it was the Little Sister version, of which I would burn through by the end of the night and then would have to patiently wait until the next week to get a new one. As I got older I graduated to the reading less about Karen, Nancy and Hannah and more about Kristy, Claudia and Stacey. I remember just walking the aisles, touching the pretty book bindings and crisp pages, always selecting my book from the back of the shelf, as it was likely more untouched than the others. I remember always asking for a new bookmark too, but being that I already had too many, the request typically got denied. (My go to bookmark was a Little Mermaid one in case you were wondering).

Anyways, I find bookstores to be a place of comfort now. I don’t know if it’s due to the years of hanging out among the shelves or sitting at Borders for hours on end on a Saturday, but regardless, I am convinced healing happens at bookstores. Even now, I typically will ask Josh at least a few times a month if he will just go sit at Barnes and Nobles with me. (Side note: I miss Borders, like a lot.) As I type this now, here I sit, among the cluttered tables of the café, awkwardly staring at the lady across from me on her iPad as she eats a scone. (Hey lady, you have some on your chin.) I am home. I wear headphones but have the Coffee Shop Pandora mix on low enough to still hear the conversations around me. (Airlines are so overpriced …. Hey mom, can I get this book …. What time is it? Oh wait, he is asking me that, one second….)

Books are an escape for me. I throw myself into the story, often judging a book by its cover. (I have an entire shelf of ugly covered books that I have yet to read.) One relatable line is like a balm to the day. There is beauty in the stories, even if they aren’t real. (Who am I kidding, I totally pretend like they are.)

The past month or so I have been praying for God to send me a sign, a tangible sign, that this whole journey will result in a happy ending. That this road will lead somewhere and that we will be one of those couples who looks back in 5 years and tells other couples “It is worth the wait. Hang in there.”

So I keep praying. Lord, a sign! One that even I can’t refute. Preferably one so obvious that I can’t question it. A message written in the sky would be acceptable. An anonymous letter posted marked from Heaven would also be okay. Okay maybe that all is a little extreme, but I just keep begging (literally, you should see my journal, it’s nearly embarrassing) that He would make Himself known without a shadow of a doubt.

Perhaps the sign has come. Perhaps He has answered my prayer and I have been too jaded to see it. There have been moments of quiet and brief reassurance over the last month, including a 41 day cycle for me, another first and shorter than my last one by 22 days. Many would say this was THE SIGN! A tangible response that things were improving, that the lifestyle changes and naturopathic doctor was working, but instead, I dismissed it as less powerful than it actually was.

And since enough isn’t enough, I found myself continuing to pray A sign! Lord, I need more signs! More signs! I need you to help me believe!

And then I came to this verse, in the greatest book of all times, the Bible. “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet still believe.” (John 20:29b) It was the sign I had been searching for – the anti sign! The sign where He whispered to STOP LOOKING FOR A SIGN and keep looking at HIM! I had taken my eyes off of HIM and began searching upon Pinterest boards, interactions and puffs of cloud smoke for a sign and in it, lost my way.

Books are powerful. One verse, one line, changed my heart again. The power of His Word is greater than anything else. This journey isn’t about looking for signs but looking to Him. It’s about believing in His character, His goodness, His promises without knowing the future. That’s where the blessings lie. In fact, the whole story of the Bible is filled with people who believed without seeing and still moved forward out of an act of faith. It’s human to want to see what’s going to happen before we move, but we are only holding ourselves back from what He has to offer.

So, in the presence of my dear friends, the books, I pledge to stop obsessively asking for signs. I pledge to have faith without knowing how this story ends. I pledge to embrace the pain, the struggles, the unknowns and never give up. With His help, I can do this!

Oh my goodness, this woman a few tables down just stood up to leave and her purse strap caught under the table and she just flipped it. I can’t stop laughing. My blog concentration has officially just been broken. And I am pretty sure this guy is about to ask out the girl next to me. One more hair flip from her and it’s inevitable. Ahhhh, bookstore dramas ….

(Update: She casually threw into a story that she never wants to get married and isn’t like her friends, who wants a real relationship. This conversation is winding down quickly ….)