Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Reading Between the Lines

Two lines, that is all!

For them, I would give anything.

Not just one, but TWO......


Two lines are all the hope I need.

Something to give me hope that we can build our family.

I want to wage war with my body.

I beg with it.  I plead with it.  Constantly.

Timing, testing, probing, needle sticks.

All in the name of two lines.

Waiting, hoping, yearning.

All in the name of two lines.

Something some women would curse as unwanted?

Two lines.

Something most women take for granted?

Two lines.

Why does my world revolve around 

Two lines?

"Two, two, two, two..."

I chant to myself while holding the stick that could possibly change my life.

As if somehow cheering on the test will magically make another line appear.

Two lines.

Two, two, two.

For so long, my life has revolved around TWO LINES!

Sometimes I wish I could be freed from the obsession of two lines.


God, you are trying to teach me something in all of this.

I will do my humanly best to wait for You and what You are trying to teach me.

Two lines, two lines, two lines

Quiet my mind and my soul, so that I may not focus only on the 


Show me Your Glory and give me Your grace.

And help me to read BETWEEN the lines.

 “I wait for the LORD,  my soul waits, and in His word I hope; my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning.”
Psalm 130:5-6

Thursday, March 26, 2015

JUST RELAX!!! [And maybe your FSH will go down]: Things to Never Say to an Infertile Couple

If your'e asking yourself

What the heck is FSH? I rest my case.

If you aren't well-versed in all the medical terminology and the cycles of the human reproductive system...

Or if you aren't familiar with the THOUSANDS of acronyms that only someone in the infertile subculture would know, then


you don't have the answers to your friend's infertility struggle.

Don't get me wrong, I get it [through grace and experience alone] that you are trying to help.  

I've been there.  Before my infertility journey began, I had friends and acquaintances who had difficulty getting pregnant.  I am guilty of telling them the same things that can unknowingly crush the spirit of an infertile.

Infertile people experience the grief of losing something they never had.
Notice the conflict?
How can you lose something you never had?

And that is what sets the grief of infertility apart.  It is hard for others to understand the grief of the loss of something someone never had in the first place.  Therefore, the grief of infertility is mostly experienced inwardly by the affected person.  

And so it is lonely.  Very lonely.

We often cling to the intangible:
hope, dreams, desires, faith, perseverance.

The intangible is what sees us through the loss of the tangible:
a positive pregnancy test, a healthy pregnancy, a healthy baby.

In fact, one of my good friends with a history of infertility and I laughed today about how no one inspects toilet paper as much as an infertile woman!  So true!

And I cannot put into words the feeling an infertile woman feels when she sees the crimson reminder that she has once again lost the chance of having the one thing for which she would give anything.

Now that I have let you peek into the soul of an infertile woman, I leave you with this:


(things infertile women have heard [and thought] a million times)

You would never say this to a cancer patient, so don't say it to us.  Infertility involves a disruption in the normal function of one of the body's systems.  And I can assure you there is no vacation relaxing enough to regulate hormones or thicken an endometrial lining.

Saying such things could potentially make the infertile woman feel as if they are inadequate in the eyes of God.   For, why would God allow others to get pregnant and not me?  
Am I doing something wrong?  Is God punishing me?  
Does He think I won't be a good mother?  
We just want your prayers.  Let us know that you pray for us!!

I know your dear Aunt Sally said this worked for her.  But, I will never stop trying.  And if I ever stop trying, I will let you know.  And I'd love it you respected that decision. 

We love your children.  But, don't.  Just don't.  

To my medical knowledge, intoxication will not regulate my hormones and stimulate my ovaries.  But thank you, anyways.

I can tell you that the majority of us support the idea of adoption.  But if we haven't mentioned the "A" word to you, don't say it first.  Because, we are likely holding out for the chance that we can conceive a child of our own.  We know adoption is an option.  But we also know it won't make our bodies cooperate with us.  Plus, some of us have already spent THOUSANDS on infertility treatments.  So our pocketbooks may be a little thin.

Beware to whom you utter these words!  An infertile woman would spend 100 years being pregnant if she could.  

If you're left wondering what in the world TO say to an infertile person....well that's a good question. 

I will tell you this: from my experience, NO WORDS ever made it better. 

But I will also tell you this: infertile people WANT and NEED to talk about it!  

We need your ears and your nods of understanding.  

We need your sincere hugs.  We need your prayers.

And sometimes, we just need your silence while we weep on your shoulder.

But most of all, we NEED you to NOT tell us to

Tuesday, March 24, 2015


There is a season, turn, turn, turn...

Tonight I wept.  

I wept for a million reasons known, and a million unknown.

As Jacob and I enjoyed this beautiful weather today, we pretended to be pirates. 
Make believe with my child!!  The child I had wanted for so long...

It's such a humbling experience seeing the world through the eyes of a child.

I've been reading a book entitled "Boys Should Be Boys".  It explains how we should allow boys to just BE BOYS.  I really think there is no explaining what this means. You get the idea....scrapes on knees, broken bones, just pure dirty "boy-ness".  The kind of "boy-ness" that makes a boy become a man you can be proud you raised.

So, in my inspiration to partake in the adventures of boyhood, I decided to be Captain Mommy.  Jacob quite appropriately dubbed himself
"Pirate Jacob Robert Tyson."  

And so we spent the afternoon in dirty-kneed pirate-ness.  We played it well.  And I'm pretty sure he loved me all the more for it.
Mommy getting dirty with him and talking like a pirate??!!?

What little boy could ask for more?
"Argggghhhh, Matey Jacob!!"
"Arggggghhh, Matey Mommy!!"

And then....I got a text from my wonderful mother-in-law.  The woman responsible for raising the wonderful man that is my husband and the father of our son.  Her text was in response to a series of pictures I had posted on Facebook about our Pirate Day...

Oh my goodness!!!  
Those pics remind me of when Jeremy was that age, and we would play in the backyard all the time!

That text stuck with me all day. 

Because, I knew that 30 years down the road, I would remember this special pirate day.

And I thought to myself, "I hope Jacob remembers this pirate day."

Later this evening I told Jeremy how I just don't want Jacob to grow up.  I mean, I had spent all this time praying and hoping for this special baby.  And this "baby" was growing right before my very eyes. He would one day grow up, go to college, marry another woman.  I wept at the thought that he could love another woman more than his mommy.

Yes, I know it is the way God intends it: for a man to leave his family and cleave to his wife.

But, a momma CAN CRY about it!  (Thankyouverymuch)
**I PROMISE, FUTURE DAUGHTER-IN-LAW, I'm normal and all boy mommas have cried about it!**

I wept on my husband's shoulders.
He laughed at first, possibly thinking this must be crazy, emotional woman talk.
 But as I continued to weep on his chest he just quietly held me.

I wept for a million reasons...

My baby is growing up.  MY BABY.  I never thought I'd ever utter the words "my baby."
Then I thought of my infertility struggle.  The endless emotions and pain.
And NOW our desire to have another baby puts us at risk for all the scary emotions that go along with it.

Then I thought of my friends who would give anything for a baby.
It's not fair.  Life just isn't fair sometimes. 
There.  I said it. 

Why is it that a couple that would make the BEST parents in the world can't have a child of their own?  These are thoughts I also had when I was struggling to get pregnant.

WHY can't we have the answers?
Then, I kept hearing the Lord's voice in my spirit whispering.....


Our pain is for a season.
Every part of life we experience: a SEASON.
This child for whom I longed to have will only be under my guidance and protection for: a SEASON.  
Jesus' life on Earth to show us the way to the Father: a SEASON.


By pure definition of the word, a verse from Ecclesiastes in the Bible states it perfectly.
There is a time for everything under the heavens...

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

~ Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

A season, my friends.  It's a season.

Friday, February 15, 2013

Motherhood in the Cinches

Motherhood in the Cinches

Cinch (n. an extremely easy task).

Umm,  I think not.  Motherhood is far from a cinch.
Perhaps closer to a trench (n. a long, narrow ditch)?

Hmmm...I don't like the way that sounds, either.  Although, I can certainly testify to the fact that it can feel that way at times.

Why is motherhood so tough sometimes?  

Today, was admittedly a hard day for me.  Maybe it was the fussy, not-feeling-well baby.  Or the projectile spit up that saturated my shirt.  Or the spit up x 3 that I had to clean out of the carpet today.  Or the screaming baby that wouldn't go down for a nap.  Or that pile of laundry that seems to keep staring at me mocking, "I keep getting larger and larger, mhwahahaha!"

Whatever it may be, it was hard.  

Let's be real, ladies.  Motherhood is NOT an easy task.  Why do we allow the Martha Stewarts and the Pinterest fad to brain wash us?  Can we just all openly admit to not being perfect?

Please tell me I am not the only one who has ever intended on making that Pinterest-inspired recipe, donning that Pinterest-inspired outfit with the cute Pinterest-inspired hairdo to impress my husband when he gets home from work? 

It's more like this:
Take care of baby - check.
Shower - eh, that can wait.
Brush teeth - what's that?
Husband - Call him at work and whine about hard day.
Dinner - take-out?
Take care of baby - check.

I'm not complaining, folks.  I'm being real.  Maybe we ladies and fellow mothers should shed all disguises of perfection, so that when we look at one another in secret desperation we can have confidence in the fact that WE HAVE ALL BEEN THERE!

I may not end up the mother that makes all mothers in my son's classroom think,
 "Wow, she is Supermom!"  
Frankly, baking is not my forte and I don't execute cute little decorated cupcakes very well.  
For that, Jacob, I apologize in advance. 

But I do know this: God gives me grace to be the best mother I can be.  My son gives me grace, even in his babyhood.  For that, I am so grateful.

Now, I need to work on giving myself some grace.  That's the hard part.

 Oh, and did you know that cinch is also a verb?
Cinch (v. to fasten tightly, to make certain, to assure).

Motherhood in the CINCHES.

I choose to let go of my idea of perfection.
I choose to CINCH Jacob up with love and security by his imperfect, yet perfect-for-him mommy.

Monday, October 8, 2012

Happy TWO Months!

Happy TWO months

to my sweet angel baby...

(Ok, I've wiped away my tears)

Two wonderful months ago...
 you came to your Daddy and me on a hot August evening.  It had been cloudy all day long, with a little rain.  But your daddy noted that the sun came out just before your arrival.

That's what you are, sweet boy, to us.  Our sunshine.  You make our lives better.

Two amazing months ago...
Your daddy and I brought you home.
Nervous and wet behind the ears with this whole parenting thing. 
We wanted to do right by this new little creature that was you. 
You do know that parenting doesn't come with an instruction manual, right?
(Your Daddy asked for one in the hospital...true story!)

I would like to think we have done a good job so far.


 In two quickly-passing months...
 You've learned to
 stare at faces...

 coo at mommy, daddy, and anyone else who will listen...

(though you wouldn't during this photo session, despite mommy's incessant attempts to illicit it with high pitched noises and goofy faces)...

 Hold your head up while on your belly...

Until you fuss, pout, then resort to sucking on your hand.

 Don't worry sweet boy, you will thank me for this one day!  
I promise!

Your favorite thing to do: Take a bath

Your favorite book: Hush Little Polar Bear

Your favorite place to go: Mommy and Daddy's arms

Your favorite object: Your pacifier

I realize that two months will eventually turn into

two years old
second grade
secondary school
twenty-two years old
two years of marriage
two kids 

So, I end with this: 
a letter I wrote you a few nights ago as you slept soundly in all your baby glory.

It reads:

To my sweet angel baby,
You are 8 weeks and 1 day old today.  I just walked out of your nursery to check on you.  You are so sweet when you sleep.  Lately, I've had many thoughts of you on my Mommy mind.  I felt I needed to get a pen out to tell you.  Since you can't understand my words with your young ears, I hope you can understand them later by reading about the things I want so badly to tell you now.
I hope you know how much I love you.  I wanted you for so long.  Your Daddy and I had a tough time becoming pregnant. Looking back now, though, I think God was saving your sweet soul for Daddy and me.  Dear son, I hope you know I loved you way before you were born!  And, when
I found out I was pregnant with my miracle baby - oh, the joy!  I want you to know that I pray for your future wife already.  But, know that Mommy was the first woman to ever love you!!

I paused from my writing to check on you on the video monitor... I see you taking your sweet little breaths and making your sweet little baby-grunt sounds.  I just love you!  I love the way you love to snuggle close to me; the way your soft baby skin feels; the way your baby skin smells; the way you smile your sweet baby gummy smile at Daddy and me...
Sweet boy, I have so many hopes for you.  Mostly, I hope you come to know Christ and love him with all your heart.  I hope you always love others more than yourself.  I hope you give freely of your time, love, and resources to those in need.  I pray you find a godly woman to be your wife.  And, I pray you love her and respect her like your Daddy does me.  I pray you become a leader, and never a follower.
Angelface, I can't wait to see you crawl, take your first steps, throw your first ball, win your first game, go to kindergarten, graduate, make new friends, go to college, get married, have babies...
But for now, I am content sitting here listening to your baby noises.  And, though I know I can't, my Mommy heart wants you to stay this young forever.  I love you, baby boy!  Always and forever.  To the moon and stars and back.  A million times!!

Sunday, October 7, 2012

A Promise Fulfilled, an Oath to Be Kept

Hello, there...

No worries people!  I did not fall off the face of the earth.  

You may be wondering where in the world I have been since last year.  
Please, sit.  
Grab a cup of Joe, or whatever your drink of choice may be...

Join me as I take you on a voyage,
the voyage that has brought me full circle back to this blog...

A couple days ago, the promise of cooler weather from our local meteorologists had me reminiscent of the struggles Jeremy and I had getting pregnant.  It was last year, around this time, that we began seeing a fertility specialist in search of answers on why we weren't becoming pregnant.

In my reminiscent and contemplative state, I logged onto my blog.
Long neglected by its author, I noticed my poor blog hadn't been written upon since last December.  December 5th, to be exact.

The last title:

 Little did I know that...

 Exactly two weeks later, on December 19th, we would receive news that changed our lives forever.

My doctor's office had called me on that cold, rainy day with the three most precious words I have ever heard in all my life...


All the hurt, pain, heartache, disappointment of the last several years were washed away on that rainy day.

To tell you the truth, I had taken several pregnancy tests at home the couple days before my blood test at the doctor.  I just felt...different.

Want proof of my state of mind those days before my blood test?

Here you go...

Count them.
Yes, that's correct. Seven tests. And all say 'positive'.
And I'm pretty sure I took more, but these are the ones I saved for photographic evidence.

(Funny what years of disappointment will do to you.  I actually had doubts with these positive home pregnancy tests.  I thought, "Maybe one of the shots I gave myself during treatment is giving me a false positive.")

But, alas, I knew for sure after that phone call that is was really true!

I had always dreamed of the way I would tell Jeremy we were pregnant, and I finally had my chance.  The best Christmas gift I gave my husband last year...

It took a while for the pregnancy to sink in for me.  Once you have journeyed down the road of infertility, it is very difficult to shift gears.

And, I wanted so badly to continue writing on my blog.  I had heard so much positive feedback and there were so many people that told me the blog was an inspiration to them during their infertility.

I just wasn't sure how to share the news on my blog or how to transition from a blog about infertility to a blog about pregnancy. It is hard to explain.  I have regrets about it, I really do.  I wanted to share the miraculous news and be a testament to God's goodness and faithfulness.

But I didn't...
Forgive me?  Thank you!

Now, I feel better and we can move on...

 The pregnancy began sinking in eventually, as we watched our little miracle grow...

  And shall I impress you with my ever growing belly?

My pregnancy was complicated with bleeding and preterm contractions, so I was taken off work and put on bedrest at 21 weeks.  It wasn't all fun and games, but it was well worth it.

Because 37 weeks after our baby was conceived,

was born on
AUGUST 8th, 2012

The best day of our lives --
the day we became...


So, you may be asking
Where now shall the direction of this blog go?

Well, remember that story in the Bible I told you about?
The story about Hannah and her promise to God if He were to give her a son?

And she made a vow, saying:

 Lord Almighty, if you will only look on your servant’s misery and remember me...
 He remembered me.

 and not forget your servant but give her a son...
 He gave me a son.

then I will give him to the Lord for all the days of his life...
 Now I must keep my promise to Him daily.

Have any of you moms ever contemplated what a profound thought this is?
 To daily give your child back to the Lord?
To daily sacrifice your hopes, desires, dreams for this little child to the Lord?

It is quite profound, really.

My desire is for my son's life to be a testament of God's goodness, faithfulness, and loving kindness.
So, continue to join me as I celebrate this little life God has given me.
Join me as I learn to keep my oath.

A promise fulfilled!

An oath to be kept.

Monday, December 5, 2011

All I Want for Christmas...

This has been quite a different holiday season for me, indeed.  

During Thanksgiving, I started my medicated fertility cycle due to an unexpected early visit from Mother Nature...

So in the exciting, controlled chaos of planning a Thanksgiving meal and entertaining out of town family, I had to begin 

The blood work
The sonograms
The getting prescriptions filled.

 In all honesty, I don't mind at all.  What's a little bump in the Thanksgiving plan?  It was totally worth it to see beloved family that we rarely get to see!

Plus, we got to indulge in the pepper green bean casserole that Jeremy made.

He accidentally put 1/4 cup of pepper in the casserole instead of 1/4 teaspoon
But as I said, what are the holidays without a bump in the road?

We only ate one bite of the casserole, actually.

On a more serious note, the holiday season is not easy for me.

The phrase keeps playing over and over in my head...
(sometimes accompanied by the enthusiastic melody of the children's song)


Things such as putting up the Christmas tree, hanging stockings, putting presents under the tree...
They are all a reminder of the child I want so badly.  And I constantly envision my husband and me with a child...

Putting up the Christmas tree, hanging stockings, opening presents.

It is all a painful reminder of what I don't have.

Don't get me wrong, I am not trying to complain.  
Just being transparent.

Jeremy keeps asking me what I want for Christmas. I cannot think of any tangible item I need.
I can only think of one thing.

I was touched the other day when he again asked me,
"What do you want for Christmas?"

"A baby" I said.  And he could sense the yearning in my voice.

He lovingly responded, "Babe, if I could give you that, I would."

I will say that this journey has made me be more thankful for the here and now.  As stated above, my husband cannot change the future.  I cannot change the future.
We cannot change the future.

But I know Someone who has a birthday coming up that can

Change the  future, change us.