When The World Says ‘Give Up,’ Hope Whispers ‘Try One More Time.’

Hi, I once again have allowed fatigue and life to get in the way of my writing.  I didn’t write about the Boston Marathon Bombings.  There were plenty of news stories, blog posts, Facebook updates, tweets, and articles written.  Here’s what I have to say (the short and sweet version.)

I’m happy they caught the cowards.  I’m more than proud to be a Bostonian. I’m in awe of how the people from Boston and around the globe  validated that there are far more good people in the world than there are bad. I don’t care where the cowards came from, who their parents are, where they went to school, or how nice they were. I’d like to never hear their names again, or see their faces again.  I would like for all Bostonians to somehow always feel the sense of unity always display the courage, always offer the support, and always hold the pride that we have all experienced the last few weeks.

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“A heartbreak isn’t always as loud as a bomb exploding.  Sometimes it could be as quiet as a feather falling and the most painful thing is… nobody hears it except you.”

This past week was National Infertility Awareness Week.

Do you know the true facts about infertility? Chances are unless you’ve been affected by it yourself, you probably don’t. Even if you are affected, you may feel alone, depressed, or some how at fault for your condition when you are absolutely not to blame. Here are some basic data and statistics about infertility that you should be aware of (taken from Discovery Health and elsewhere):

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    In America alone, infertility affects over 6 million women and their partners – that’s about 10 percent of the reproductive age population. One in six couples will encounter difficulty getting pregnant and experienceinfertility to some extent.
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    Infertility is not always “the woman’s fault” – indeed, infertility affects male and female reproductive systems nearly equally. In approximately 30% of all infertility cases, there are both male and female factors causing difficulty in achieving successful pregnancy.
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    In approximately 30% of cases, the causes will remain “unexplained infertility” despite full medical work-ups and extensive diagnostic testing. This only points out the complicated nature and many causes of infertility, and how even today medical science cannot provide all of the answers.
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    There is no such thing as a “miracle cure for infertility”, despite thousands of websites and unscrupulous individuals promising such. The causes and reasons for infertility are far too numerous and different to all be “solved” by one single approach or drug product.
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    Infertility is a disease. Albeit it took until 2009 for the World Health Organization to officially define infertility as a disease. This was an important milestone in recognizing the serious medical nature of infertility and helping to bring it more recognition and hopefully governmental and scientific support.
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    Infertility is a disability. In 1998, the U.S. Supreme court held that infertility is a disability under the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). However, most insurers in the United States still provide no coverage – or only extremely limited coverage – for medical treatment related to infertility. Many of those affected with infertility have to struggle in the workplace not just to afford expensive IF treatments but to receive fair treatment and understanding if they must take time off for procedures, testing, or rest during a difficult pregnancy.

Chances are you know someone who has suffered with infertility. You do, if you know me personally. I am not going to sit here and write my own story again.  You can scroll through my archives and find it.  I will leave you with some very powerful and thought provoking quotes.

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For every woman unhappy with her postpartum marks, is another who wishes she had them.

this sums up fertility vs infertility perfectly!

Everyone’s Got To Face Down The Demons…Maybe Today, We Can Put The Past Away

I haven’t written in a looong time, and I’m not happy about it. Unfortunately, sometimes it’s difficult to find the time to sit down and think!

I have agonized over writing this post, as it may be considered hurtful or offensive.  However, my intention is not to offend.  I hope it causes pause, and possibly sparks a discussion.

“All men are tempted. There is no man that lives that can’t be broken down, provided it is the right temptation, put in the right spot.  ~ Henry Ward Beecher

People like to throw around words like addict and junkie.  What most people don’t know is the person behind those labels.  Every addict is someone’s mother, father, son, daughter, sister, brother, friend.  It’s easy to judge people, especially people who appear weak.  But what makes a person an addict?  How did their life take such a different turn?  Is it genetic-do the actions of family  influence one’s addictive behaviors? Is it due to a mental illness? Can it be chalked up to just” bad” choices or “bad” friends?  Is is a  reaction to some type of trauma? Addiction is so complex, too many factors come in to play

I know many people who are addicts.  They are some of the most loving, caring, “nice” people…with a problem.  But, this post isn’t really about the addict, it’s about the people who love them.  I had a conversation with my cousin the other night about how from addiction, an absolute, all-consuming selfishness grows.  It’s not an “I’m a spoiled brat selfishness,” or an “I’m entitled selfishness.” It’s a feeling or desire that no one or thing can come between the addict and getting their needs fulfilled.  It’s not done out of hate, anger, or malice.  It controls the addict and leaves everyone in it’s wake destroyed.  It clouds the addict’s ability to see themselves how others see them. It distorts reality and their feelings of love and anger and support.  It tricks them into thinking that they aren’t the one with the problem, and that anyone who thinks otherwise is betraying them.

So what is one to do when this overwhelming selfishness starts to break down families and relationships? When this isn’t happening to you, it’s easy to simply say, “just walk away.” But for those of us who have experienced the gut-wrenching pain, the pain that makes you want to throw up, cry, hit a wall, and hide all at the same time, you know it’s not that easy.  So, you have offered acceptance, forgiveness, support, and love, and still the addiction and the selfishness continues.  Is walking away an act of defeat or abandonment?

I wholeheartedly believe the answer to this is NO!  It’s an act of survival.  If people spend their entire life trying to convince an addict that they are in fact addicted and require help, what kind of life will they have had?  You don’t stop loving or supporting, but you have to start living and growing.  And to be able to do that type of “living,” without an intolerable amount of guilt, is nearly impossible, but it needs to be attempted.

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So, be supportive, be calm, set limits, and be loving, and be brave.

And live!

Encouragement, A Little Push, And Letting Go

My soon-to-be 6 year old son is slowly driving my husband and myself to the brink. He wanted to learn karate. We took him to karate 2 nights a week for about a year and a half. He liked it, he hated it, he refused to go, he willingly jumped in the truck some nights with a huge smile. Then he wanted to quit. We were hesitant, but baseball was starting and he mentioned wanting to play. So, sayonara Sensei and hello little league. (By the way, he was quite good at karate.)

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First time up at bat and my little slugger walloped the ball. He ran around the bases with this huge smile on his face. He liked it, he hated it, he refused to go, he willingly jumped in the truck some days with a huge smile on his face. Then he wanted to quit. We didn’t let him. He was good, and baseball is a quick season.

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Then he begged to play football. Our city doesn’t have a pop warner league, so we had to sign him up in another town. He loved it until he had to wear a helmet and pads. My son has a big head, so the helmet was quite large. He’s also a “sturdy little fella” so his pads were big in some areas to accommodate room in other places. I should also add that pop warner thinks it’s absolutely necessary and acceptable to run mini camps for 5 yearold kids. My son went to football in the dead of August almost every week night for hours at a time. That’s not fun. That’s no way to introduce a sport to a fun-loving little boy. The battles to go to practices and games became epic. My son would cry and yell and make himself sick. My husband would plead, yell, and make himself sick. I would scream and cry and wonder how to fix everything. We finally decided that before we completely ruin football for him, ( by the way, this kid was made to play football) we would let him ‘quit.’ We had him speak with his coach and explain why he wouldn’t be back. It went against everything we wanted to for him, but the poor little guy was miserable. (Plus, the main coach was a wicked tool, and when my husband attempted to help coach, my son saw it as way to further complain. It was not a very positive experience.)

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However, we didn’t want him sitting at home watching T.V. all day. We signed him up for fall ball, because he asked if he could. This time around, there were definitely more smiles than tears. His coach was awesome and he finished the very short season happy.

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Then winter hit….he wanted to learn to ski. We are lucky to live about 3 minutes from a cute little mountain known for teaching kids how to ski. We signed him up. His first time out, he came down the hill and turned all on his own. The instructor was stunned. He did great. The last two lessons began with his “I don’t want to go tantrums.” But, he did complete his scheduled lessons.

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Of course, he has always stated that he wants to be a hockey player when he grows up! I think we’ll put skating off until next year, since I’m not sure how much more our hearts and patience can take.

So, how much is too much pushing? Is it a “waste of money,” when you’re trying to help your son find what he loves to do? If he’s going to be really good, shouldn’t he have started at (insert whatever sport here) already? How do you learn to force your own wants and dreams for your child aside, so they can choose for themselves?

I love watching him have fun, but why does it always turn to “not fun” so damn quickly? Why does he never feel like he’s “good enough?” Where did his confidence go, who stole it? We have always fostered it and supported him. My mom told me that I learned to read in kindergarten because “I needed to.” She also told me that I came home one day and was sad because my dinosaur didn’t look as good as the teacher’s. I locked myself in my room and perfected my drawing until my dinosaur was better than the teacher’s. I don’t want my son to give up just because he’s initially not “good’ at something,but I also don’t want him to be a neurotic perfectionist either.

PARENTING is HARD!!!!!!

I know that he’ll find what he loves, and I’ll be his biggest fan, as always!

and currently, I think he wants to be a DJ, who can play the guitar, and has a severe slap shot! IMG_5677

Said Woman Take It Slow, & It’ll Work Itself Out Fine…All We Need Is Just A Little Patience (and maybe a lil’ xanax)

I had all intentions of writing a blog about baldness, but that will be a different story for a different day.

As we all know, I have PCOS. On my journey to motherhood, there were billions of tears spilled, numerous sleepless nights, an abundance of self-doubt and self- hatred, too many invasive tests, a great deal of physical pain, and of course a multitude of prayers. Then my babies came. I have never once since my son has been born, questioned my ability to be a mom. Even when postpartum depression hit, and believe me, it hit hard, I never questioned myself. Yesterday that all changed. I actually told my husband that I think God may have made a mistake in answering my prayers.

I am not patient with my children or my husband for that matter. I am not patient with myself. I know that my PCOS is in overdrive right now. I know that I have to take better care of myself. I realized last night that I need to start taking some time for myself, and doing things for me. Lately, I can’t wait for my two amazing, funny, loving children to go to bed. I just want to sit on the couch and watch some mind numbing TV show, so I can for 30-60 minutes, lose myself in an alternate reality, or aimlessly scroll through apps on my phone until my vision blurs.

I am a member of a PCOS support group. I read daily posts from women struggling to either become pregnant or stay pregnant. Women and their partners who have been trying for up to 15 years to be parents. I read as they break down, give up, and refuse to stop fighting. I read and I cry. How did I become so lucky? Why was I chosen to be a mommy?

It’s so easy for me to say, “Life is full of stress, stupid shit is always going to happen, money comes and money goes, don’t sweat the small stuff, they’re only kids…” Believe me, I tell myself these things all of the time. I truly want to accept these words as truths, but some dark, unhappy voice inside of me won’t allow it. I’m assuming it’s the same voice that drove me to questioning whether or not I should be a mom.

So, back to yesterday. As I sat, tears welling up, my son grabbed a tissue and put one arm around me while blotting my tears. My daughter put down her mac and cheese and climbed onto my lap and kissed my tear-stained cheeks. They had no idea that those tears were for them; that I was angry with myself and heartbroken over how I have been interacting with them. All they knew was that their mommy was sad and needed a hug. That’s the moment when my babies made me realize that I was made to be their mommy.

I am going to start to take some time for myself and not feel guilty about it. I am also going to : allow for more time (start tasks a little earlier), “be all there” (no more multitasking,) take mommy time-outs when I’m overwhelmed, remind myself how small my kids really are and how much I truly love and cherish them, yell less, lower my expectations for myself, my husband, and my kids, and lastly smile more.

a great reminder to slow down and enjoy the blessing of your children... quotes, mom quotes, being a mom

*I didn’t write this post in attempts to acquire a bunch of reassuring, supportive comments about what a great mom I am. I know that I’m an “OK” mom, who tries her best, and just gets overwhelmed a bit too frequently. I wrote this because I needed to say it. I started this blog when I decided it was time to overhaul myself. I didn’t mean only my physical appearance. I have a shitload of work to do people!!! Thanks for listening.

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How Do I Keep Life From Getting In The Way? And Do I Want To?

I cannot begin to tell you how many times a week, I utter the words, “I hate my life right now!” I don’t really hate my life, I hate what’s happening at a particular moment in time.  I seriously need to get another catch phrase. I work with kids who have the absolute right to say, “I hate my fucking life.” I do not have that right.  I LOVE my life.  I just have poor coping skills sometimes.

For instance…there’s a blizzard a coming our way. My mind immediately went to: power outages, potential car accidents, and all sorts of unhappy thoughts. And for a nano-second, I caught a glimpse of the wonder spread across my kids’ faces as my daughter realizes that the snow will most likely engulf her entire body, and as my son’s imagination runs a muck as he envisions snow battles with my husband,complete with forts, tunnels, and copious amounts of flying snowballs! But then the dread crept back in, forcing all of the happy images out.  WHY?!?!?!? I understand that as an adult, I have certain responsibilities and with those responsibilities come certain worries/concerns.  How do other people keep those concerns at bay and enjoy life?

The other night, my husband hugged me and said, “I’m sorry there’s so much going on in your life right now.” I had to think about that for a minute.  Work is stressful at times.  It will always be. It’s work! My family has some stuff happening, but all families have their issues, and we’ll get through ours with some yelling, some crying, and a shitload of love and support.  I have PCOS, I will always have it. I need to control it better so it stops controlling me.  My kids are kids.  I need to let them be and worry about cleaning, laundry, and other crap when they’re asleep! I need to enjoy my children’s childhoods.  I’m not minimizing the stressors in my life, however, they could be so much worse!

Life is hard sometimes.  Some days it literally sucks huge balls. But isn’t that part of life? In case you’re pondering that question, STOP!!!! The answer is, OF COURSE!!

But not these big!   : )

    Unfortunately, I have allowed stress to interfere with my weight loss.  I haven’t gained anything, (except period weight, which always leaves when that angry bitch vacates my uterus!) but I haven’t lost any lb’s lately either.  Time to re-focus! And here’s just a reminder to all of you who are supposed to be yelling at me when you see me stuffing my face hole with unhealthy goodies; your silence is helping no one!!

Stay warm, and enjoy the blizzard!

Do Gingers Have Souls????

This post is so far off of the topics of weight loss, getting healthy, being a better mom, and PCOS.  This is going to be a semi pissy rant. You may want to stop reading if foul language insults you in any way.

I was born a redhead.  When my paternal aunt visited in the hospital she whispered to my mom, “Don’t worry, we can always dye her hair.”  Thus began my life as a “ginger.  I did a little research into where the term ginger originated. There is a lot of bullshit floating around Google and Wikipedia surrounding the topic.

The following are a few examples of what I found:

Contrary to most people’s experience, ginger root (Zingiber officinale) is not the only ginger plant in existence. The ginger plant of Malaysia, Alpinia purpurata, is a brilliant red. In the late 18th century and the 19th century the British occupied parts of Malaysia (among other countries), and started coming into regular contact with the Red Ginger. This is the same period during which “ginger” came to mean “red-haired” or “red-plumed.” Brits were not fond of the Gaelic Celts, many of whom had red hair.  The term “ginger or ginga” took on a derogatory tone. “

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“Those whose hair is red, of a certain peculiar shade, are unmistakably vampires. It is significant that in ancient Egypt, as Manetho tells us, human sacrifices were offered at the grave of Osiris, and the victims were red-haired men who were burned, their ashes being scattered far and wide by winnowing-fans. It is held by some authorities that this was done to fertilize the fields and produce a bounteous harvest, red-hair symbolizing the golden wealth of the corn. But these men were called Typhonians, and were representatives not of Osiris but of his evil rival Typhon, whose hair was red.”

“Describing a redhead as a ‘ginger’ is actually a very old tradition (unfortunately). In ancient times, people believed that red hair was a sign that you had ‘stolen the fires of hell’, and were a witch. Since witches were rumored to use a lot of ginger in their potions and whatnot, they called any and all redheads ‘gingers’. It went out of style for a very long time but has somehow found it’s way back to present times. So maybe people should rethink their use of that word, since calling someone a ginger could have killed them centuries ago, whether you were joking or not.”

To be honest, I don’t really care where the term came from.  I’m almost positive that I don’t like it though.  The word itself is actually cute.  However, I’m beginning to hate it.  And this is probably why:

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And my all time favorite!

 

SERIOUSLY??????????????????????? What the hell? If someone ever kicked me because I had red hair, I’d punch them in the throat! This isn’t funny. I find no humor in it what-so-ever.

Ok Wonka, let’s discuss the theories that women with red hair have fiery tempers and are over-sexualized. I am a bit on the bitchy side and quick to get pissed off.  I don’t know if that’s because my hair is orange, I have a hormonal imbalance, or if I was just born that way.  I’d lean towards that last reason, but who the fuck knows. As for being over-sexualized… I don’t kiss and tell.

and um, her hair is not naturally that color! The drapes do not match the carpet if you know what I’m saying!

All kidding aside, Martin Luther King Day is coming up and I hope that everyone can put their political, cultural, sexual and any other type of biases aside and be nice to each other.  Because if you don’t, I may come for you in the dead of night and eat your soul!

For those of you who truly know me, you know that this post was written with a bit of sarcasm.  The term ginger doesn’t really bother me, except for the kicking part.  Redheaded step child on the other hand……

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