Within the first hour of meeting him in person.

“When you meet someone for the first time, that’s not the whole book. That’s just the first page.” — Brody Armstrong

Meeting my biological half-brother Joey, for the first time was more than surreal. It was almost an out-of-body experience. I was there, but everything seemed to move in slow motion and high speed at the same time.

Joey’s wife Brandi, contacted me on February 14th and my life has not been the same since. At 37 years old to realize you have a sibling that you share DNA with is pretty amazing. After talking to him, I knew I had to meet him. It was like there was a missing puzzle piece that needed to be put in its place. I had been looking for it all these years and never even knew that my soul was desperately searching for it.

After talking to him on the phone I felt like it was all a dream. There is no way this could be my life. This was something you see on Dr. Phil.

“So, you have a half brother.”

“Oh, and you have other brothers all over the country. And you had a sister, but she passed away.”

“And oh, our biological father that left you at age three lives only two hours from you.”

WHAT?

That is me poking him. Yep, he is real.

It was so much to process and I truly think your brain does play tricks on you. I had to keep telling myself that this was really happening. That this was my life. That Joey was real. I remember talking to him about booking a flight and that I needed to meet him in person and hug him just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

Finding My Roots

I was born in Enterprise Alabama at what used to be called Coffee County Hospital on April 30,  1975. My first year of life was spent in the Aviation College Dormitory while my father went to school. I have no memory of my time in Alabama, but have heard bits and pieces from my mother through the years. I have always wanted to go and see all the places my mom talked about, but never had a reason more than mere curiosity.

I now had a very good reason to go back. I could meet my brother, my father’s brothers and sisters, my cousins, and see all the places that felt familiar, but I had never seen. I booked my trip to Alabama not even two weeks after learning I had a brother. I had to meet him. Anyone who has found out they have family they have never met knows what I mean. You have to see them with your own eyes… look them in the eyes… and make that very real connection.

I was originally going to surprise him for his birthday, but his wife said there was no way she could keep it a secret. He would want to know I was coming. It was far too big of a secret to keep from him. And so the plans were set in motion.

I was beyond nervous, I felt like I was going on a first interview or a first date. You know that feeling that you really want them to like you and everything you say and do matters. What should I wear? And the horrible, What if they don’t like me?, thoughts crept in. I just wasn’t sure I could handle another rejection from family. It was excitement and fear all rolled into one. I have found in these moments that your true courage is apparent. And these are the most important moments. The life-changing ones that you never forget.

I booked the tickets three weeks before I was supposed to visit and those three weeks seemed to drag on forever. I spoke to him every day either by phone or by text. We had some serious catching up to do. I missed not talking to him on the days we only texted. There was something comforting about thinking of him first thing in the morning and last thing before bed. My whole life paradigm was shifting, and it was certainly for the better. I wasn’t an “only” any more. I wasn’t alone in my pain and I certainly wasn’t alone in my joy.

The night before the actual flight, I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve. But I was getting something way better than a present. I was getting a brother. Someone who shared my DNA and the hurt of a father who never looked back.  Blessings do come from really horrible circumstances. We are real examples of that goodness.

The Dothan airport is tiny… I mean ti-ny. I stepped off the plane and through a small gate and there he was across the hall. I knew it was him right away. I was walking with my seatmate, whom I had shared my story with during the flight. She was so excited for me, too. Time started to slow down and I couldn’t wait to hug him. I can’t believe that I didn’t cry. I did well up a bit, but not the faucet of tears that had plagued me for the past month. I kept touching his face and hugging him. He was real. Although I did poke him a couple times on the ride from the airport. Just to make sure… he pinched me back. It was official. I had a brother. I don’t think until that moment was I able to really accept it.

The weekend flew by. I spent time with Joey, his wife, and their kids. I event got to meet his mom and dad. I got to play with their animals and see their beautiful home. It was all so normal and very quickly my nervousness turned into pure comfort. They gave me a tour of Enterprise, Dothan and Ozark, and their little town. I got to try fried corn bread, grits, boiled peanuts and loved them all. I got to see the famous Boll Weevil Monument. I even met several of my father’s siblings (they haven’t seen him in years either) and some of my cousins. They were all so gracious and welcoming. It was such a humbling weekend. I didn’t want it to end.

Leaving was the hardest part. Not knowing when I will see Joey and my new family again and feeling as though I needed more time to just be with everyone and get to know them better is a bit heart wrenching. Hopefully, he comes up this summer with his family for a visit. I am sure we will have many more visits in the coming years. I know that I want them in my life now that we have found each other.

I simply can’t imagine my life without them. I have a brother and his name is Joey!

This honors all women in a very special way. They are all mothers. Read the entire piece here.

To those who gave birth this year to their first child—we celebrate with you

To those who lost a child this year – we mourn with you

To those who are in the trenches with little ones every day and wear the badge of food stains – we appreciate you

To those who experienced loss through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away—we mourn with you

To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears, and disappointment – we walk with you. Forgive us when we say foolish things. We don’t mean to make this harder than it is.

To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, step moms and spiritual moms – we need you

To those who have warm and close relationships with your children – we celebrate with you

To those who have disappointment, heart ache, and distance with your children – we sit with you

To those who lost their mothers this year – we grieve with you

To those who experienced abuse at the hands of your own mother – we acknowledge your experience

To those who lived through driving tests, medical tests, and the overall testing of motherhood – we are better for having you in our midst

To those who have aborted children – we remember them and you on this day

To those who are single and long to be married and mothering your own children – we mourn that life has not turned out the way you longed for it to be

To those who step-parent – we walk with you on these complex paths

To those who envisioned lavishing love on grandchildren -yet that dream is not to be, we grieve with you

To those who will have emptier nests in the upcoming year – we grieve and rejoice with you

And to those who are pregnant with new life, both expected and surprising –we anticipate with you

This Mother’s Day, we walk with you. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and we have real warriors in our midst. We remember you.

You don’t know me. But I am your younger half-sister. I know it is all a little crazy. I know we have never met, but I miss you terribly.

How do you miss someone that you never knew existed and only recently found out about? Easy, because I do. You were taken away from this earth at the tender age of five. Appendicitis stole you away from your family and from me. You were born nine years before me and passed away the year I was born. One life taken and one life given, it doesn’t seem right.

The Questions

I found out about you on February 14, 2013 and I can’t stop thinking about you. So many questions haunt my thoughts. I wonder:

What were you like as a child?

What would you be like now if you were still alive?

And would we have looked like each other?

There is a bond that only sisters can have. I am sad that I won’t ever have that with you.

Not Fair

I have an empty space where you should live. My heart aches that you are not here.

The portrait was done of her around the age she passed.

It’s not fair that your life ended when you were so young.

It’s not fair that I will never know you.

It’s not fair that your mother had to lose her firstborn and only daughter.

It’s not fair that our brother, Joey had to live in the shadow of the pain of your mom losing a child on top of never knowing our father.

It’s not fair that you can’t be part of this reunion process. You should be with us.

It’s not fair that you can’t read this post.

It is simply not fair.

My Wishes

I wish we could meet.

I wish I could hear the sound of your voice.

I wish I could see your smile and hear your laughter.

I wish I could spoil your children.

I wish we could cook together.

I wish I could call you when I need the advice that only a sister can provide. I could really use that now in my life.

I wish we could tease and love Joey together.  He is fantastic.

I wish I could hug you.

I wish I could have the big sister I always wanted.

Sisters Forever

No matter what. No matter time and space. You will always be in my heart. I think of you often and hope you are at peace. And I look forward to the day we will meet. I know it will be joyous.

Love Your Sister Always,

Beverly

Infertility sucks and it is actually a nightmare that I wish I could wake up from. Infertility is called the quiet or invisible disease because no one talks about it. I understand why. It is so difficult to talk about and no one really knows what to say if you do get up the courage to share. It is an extremely isolating and heartbreaking process to go through. The burden is heavy, the grief is overwhelming, and there are not many who really understand.

You see, babies are everywhere and they are filled with the good stuff in this world. Everyone loves to fuss over “Life” and all the possibilities. No one wants to talk about the death of a dream. I get it. And I will get through it, but it is a tough pill to swallow.

I wanted to have a baby. I am sad to say, we can’t have a baby on our own. After more blood work, an HSG test, acupuncture, massage, reflexology, fertility sessions with a specialist, and meetings with three surgeons, we have decided that this is the end of our hope of having biological children of our own.

I have been through a lot in this life. I am strong. But I think this is one of my life’s biggest heartbreaks. I am not sure I will ever “get over it,” but I will not let it consume the happiness life does offer us.

At the beginning of this journey, we told each other three things.

1. We would love to have a baby together.

2. We trust in God and would leave it in his hands.

3. Adoption has always been an option.

We are at the trusting God part. We do have some options that are fairly invasive, very expensive, high risk, and very low chance of working. After a lot of talking about it and listening to two different surgeons’ opinions, we just feel at this point we would be messing with nature. And even if they did work after investing about $10,000, there is a very high risk to my life. We do not judge what others decide is right for them, but we know what we feel comfortable with and that means this is the end of our dream of having our own biological child.

I am mad.

It’s not fair that it feels like so many women can just be looked at and they get pregnant. Being an Army wife doesn’t help. It seems that every 22-year old on base is pregnant or has a caravan of kids. And it seems that so many of my friends are having babies and they are so happy. They should be, I just can’t get excited about baby clothes and all the hope wrapped up in those precious baby blankets. It only serves to remind me what we can’t have. The wounds are fresh and that is pure salt.

I have been sad. So very sad.

Words cannot describe the emptiness that this has left in my heart and my gut. I so wanted to have that special moment with my husband when you find out you are pregnant. I wanted to give that to him. I wanted to share all those special moments with him. The first heart beat, the first kick, the first moment you look in their eyes. The smell of freshly-cleaned baby. The feel of a baby on my chest as it falls asleep lulling me to sleep, too. The knowing that this little being is part me and part my husband and that our love made that. I touch my belly and ache for the feel of a baby that we simply cannot have.

This grieving process for what could have been, what biology and society says we all need, and what we wanted with all of our being is beyond heart wrenching. I don’t think you ever really know how much you want something until it is not an option.

Why God?

Why can’t I have the family that has alluded me my entire life? I finally feel connected to people in ways I never knew were possible and I wanted to share that with our child. Share the family history I only just discovered. I trust in Him, He has something bigger planned for us. It is just really hard to think about that in the middle of this emotional storm.

When one door closes, another one opens.

While we are having to say goodbye to one dream, we are not giving up. We have always said adoption was an option. Even if we had our own children. We know we can give a child a good home. How that child comes to us is yet to be determined. We have not given up hope. We have simply changed the direction of our hope. We do have to grieve the dream of having our own child and also be open to our new dream. This journey is not over. I look forward to the day when we welcome a very special child into our home and hearts. That will be a gift worth celebrating!

Brothers & Sisters

At age 37, I thought the only way to have brother’s and sisters was to marry my husband and inherit his six siblings: three brothers and three sisters and nine nieces and nephews. Little did I know that God had much bigger plans for me than I could have ever imagined and I do mean ever possibly could have imagined.

On February 14th, 2013 I got an email that would change my life forever. It was from my half-brother’s wife, Brandi. A half-brother I knew nothing about until I got the email from her.

I remember the day very clearly, I was home visiting family and friends in Michigan for block leave with my husband, Robert who serves in the U.S. Army. We were at my parents place and I was doing some marketing work for a client on my computer. Across the room my husband was probably playing a video game or checking Facebook. I saw an email come through that had the subject line: “Half Brother?” from an unknown sender named Brandi. I quickly opened it curious as to what this could be, but thinking most likely it was spam. This is what it said:

Hi Beverly– My name is Brandi and I think my husband, Joey, might be your half-brother. His biological father’s name is Joseph Aldridge Bradley Jr. and he left when Joey was an infant. Joey’s mother remarried (actually their 44th anniversary is today!) and her husband adopted him. Is your mom’s name Jean?

I verbally said out loud, “Oh My God” and began to sob. I mean really cry. The kind of cry that comes from the center of your soul. My world would never be the same. Immediately, Robert was very concerned and came over to me asking what was wrong. He thought my computer had crashed and I had lost all my work or something. I couldn’t even talk. I simply turned the computer around and let him read the email. He was stunned, too.

After a couple of minutes I got myself together and said,  “I need to write her back. I need to find out more, like NOW.” Robert stopped me and said, “What if this is a con or something shady?” You see my father is not a good man, so anything associated with him has always been negative. After a short conversation with him and more crying on the phone with my mom, I decided to write Brandi back and ask her questions only someone who knew our story could possibly know.

Hello -

I was a bit shocked to receive your email.

Yes, My mother’s name is Jean and my biological Father is Joseph A. Bradley.  I knew that my father had other children but did not know how many or by whom. I too was adopted by my stepfather. The last time I saw Joe was when I was around three.

How old is Joey? What is his mom’s name? Does Joey or his mom know if Joseph had siblings? And what his mother’s name was?

I am very excited and a bit skeptical of all of this as I have had zero contact with that side of my family. I hope you understand.

Thank you for reaching out!

I apologize for the shock…I can imagine it was quite a surprise!

I have put together quite a bit of information–you’ll have to let me know how much you want to know. My husband’s name is Joey Carr. He’ll be 45 in March. His mom’s name is Margaret and I think (HOPE) she was his first wife sine they were so young when they married. She and Joe had Dawn and Joey but weren’t married very long. I’m not sure when Joe left, but I know Joey was only 11 months old when his “daddy” married his mom. Joey’s sister Dawn died when she was five of appendicitis, Joey was 3. Bless his heart, he’s had a lot of hard times in his life, but he’s such a tender hearted person.

He and I both grew up in the small town of Level Plains, AL. I started dating him was I was 15 and he was 19. This May we will be married for 22 years. We actually met his grandfather, Joe Sr. about 15 years or so ago. He was a retired Lt. Col and lived near Dothan, AL with his wife Catherine. He died in 2002. I believe he and Joe’s mother, Rachel, divorced when Joe was younger. Rachel lived in Ozark, AL and I believe she died in 1998. When we went to visit Joey’s biological grandfather, he gave us some pictures and told us some of the family history. We only went back to see him once again, and we never heard from any of the rest of the family. I don’t know if he ever told any of them we came to visit or not. We learned that Joe and Rachel had three sons, Joe Jr. Bob, and Pat. then, if I’m not mistaken, he and Catherine had 3 daughters together, Daisy, Kaye, Carolyn and a son named Bruce.  We live probably within an hour at most, of all of them but have never met then.

Not very long after we made the visit to meet Joey’s grandfather, Joey’s mom got a call from Joe one night–I believe all he said when she answered the phone was “The old man said the boy was looking for me.” We had not told her anything about going to meet the grandfather so she told him “No, he’s NOT looking for you and don’t ever call here again.” What little she has told us about Joe was not good. Basically that he was a no-good drunk, who cheated on her and abused her. She gets the devil in her eyes at the mention of his name. Understandably I guess. Joey is open to learning about it though and I hope someday you and he can maybe get to know each other. I’ve always felt like his sister took a piece of his heart when she died –even though he was only three and he says he doesn’t remember her at all.

He’s had anger issues most of his life and we went to counseling for years which helped tremendously, but I think learning that he’s not the only child his father left behind gave him a little peace. I found you because one of the pictures that Joe Sr. gave us was of  ”Joe and Jean Bradley, 1974.” I kept goggling and digging and found information piece by piece. I found more information, but don’t know how much you want to know. Just ask if you want to know more and I’ll tell you what I know.

I’m glad you’re excited, and totally understand being skeptical. But thank you for having the courage to reply and feel free to ask questions if you want to know more!

Thanks!!

Brandi

Note: Just to keep things straight. Joe Sr. is my grandfather, Joe Jr is my father, and Joey is my brother.

Brandi sent over pictures and it was amazing to see him and his family. Once we got back home and I showed my mother, she immediately said, “He looks a lot like Joe.” What I could see was our skin coloring was similar. We had similar eyes and hair color. But they looked like normal people. This was important as I didn’t know if I could trust them in any way.

I then friended my brother and his wife on Facebook. And posted this:

Today has been very emotional. My half brother on my biological father’s (have not seen him since I was three) side found me. I have been crying all afternoon. Overwhelmed. Seriously deep stuff.

I proceeded to stalk his and his wife’s pages, posts, and pictures. I think I was on there for almost two hours going through their timelines. They seemed like really good people. Pictures of them with their kids (my nephews, YES I have nephews), notes to each other that were thoughtful and sweet. And stories about building their home in Alabama. I think I started loving them that night.

,

The last picture of us

My Story

My mother left my biological father when I was around two years old. I don’t have any memories of him. I only have three pictures of us together and a few stories from my mother about what kind of man he was. And it’s sad to say, but he was not a good man. As I got older the stories got a bit worse.

When I was very young, my mom said I used to make up stories about my father. I told someone that he was in jail once. My mother never told me that. One of her friends said, you need to tell her real stories, otherwise, she will continue to create her own. I was already trying to fill my empty room in my house, and I was only three years old.

The 10 Things I Knew About My Father Growing Up

1. He was not a nice man

2. He was an alcoholic

3. He was a gambler

4. He cheated

5. He was emotionally and physically abusive (my mother is partially deaf in one of her ears because he beat her up one night and caused her ear drum to burst, which caused severe scarring)

6. He was an airplane mechanic and worked for Fed Ex before getting fired

7. I was born in Enterprise, Alabama and that is where his family was from

8. When my mother remarried, they found him out west so he could sign my adoption papers

9. My coloring is like his and I am tall like him

10. I am named after his mother Rachel (my middle name)

What makes this story more interesting is my mother was adopted too. So the only blood relative I knew of was her. My idea of family has been about adoption and making your own family. Not about blood. In many ways blood meant bad.

The Clean-Up

As you can see there is not much I knew about my father and certainly not a lot of good stuff, but it says a whole lot about what kind of person my father was. He was someone you did not want in your kid’s life. And that is exactly what happened. He was never there. I never received a birthday card or a phone call. There was nothing. Nothing but curiosity, anger, sadness, and pain. Feelings of rejection and abandonment filled my early twenties. I needed to see a counselor a couple of times to work through some of my “feelings” about a man I don’t remember and never met. Seems a bit crazy.

As I began dating, I didn’t make the best choices. I found men I thought I could save, that were bad boys, or that I thought would never leave me. I did a lot of testing and I did a lot leaving, so they wouldn’t leave me first. My therapy sessions helped me work through why I kept making these poor decisions and what I really wanted from a life partner. I don’t regret anything about my process. It has made me who I am and I am thankful that I know myself so well. The best part is I am now married to a wonderful man.

One of the things I rationalized growing up, was that I always thought my stepfather who adopted me would leave too. I had to be the perfect child or he would abandon us, too. That is a lot of pressure to put on yourself at age six. What I know now is that I was so completely wrong. My dad has been there for me no matter what. In good times and bad. I am so lucky to have him and to have figured out he is not going anywhere. I am now very confident in his love.

The Empty Room

But no matter how much “work” I did on myself, or how much my stepfather loved me, there was still an empty room in my house. The 10 things I knew about my dad wasn’t much to fill but a small corner. I was always curious, but I knew that talking about my father brought up bad memories for my mom. I never wanted to hurt my mom after all my father did to her. And how much courage it must have taken for her to leave him and stop the abuse cycle. I think she is amazing to have left him with pretty much nothing to have a better life for us.

There were times growing up that I hated him and wanted nothing to do with him. There were times I cried because I didn’t know how he could leave his own child without looking back. And then there were all the questions I had.

Questions like:

Was it so easy for me to be out of sight and out of mind for him?

Did he chose alcohol over his own child?

How often did he think of me and wonder how I was doing?

Would he ever show up at my door wanting to be the father he could never be before?

Would I ever meet him and what would I say? No excuse would ever seem to make the hurt and pain go away.

I had a lot of “what ifs,” “I wonders” and “maybes” running around in my head. And lots of emptiness in my heart and mind when it came to my father. All I knew was his name was Joseph A. Bradley (one of the most common names if you do an Internet search.) And he had probably been married before my mom and there were a couple of kids from that relationship. Nothing much to go on to try to find a man you actually don’t even like.

The email that started it all

I came to terms about 10 years ago that I would never have that room filled. I was okay with leaving it empty and having it collect dust. I put the box called “father” on a shelf and left it there unattended until February 14th, 2013, when I got an email with the subject line: Half Brother?

My world paradigm as an only child turned upside down. I had a brother. One that wanted to meet me and get to know me. Not someone running away from me. I can’t even begin to tell you all of the emotions that ran through my mind and heart. Someone who knew exactly how it felt to be left by the same man. My father didn’t just do this to me, he did it to them, too. While that is horrible, I felt comforted to know someone else “got it.”

After a couple of email exchanges, I called my brother for the first time. We instantly hit it off and have become fairly close through this experience.  I am thankful everyday to say I have an older brother named Joey.

This story has so many parts. I will be sharing my journey as I can formulate the words to do so.

To be continued…

“I want to have a baby.”

Maybe I waited too long.

Why Now?

My past is filled with love, heartbreak, bad choices, and a slew of decisions that all led me to not even think about having children. That is until I got married last year. I am not a spring chicken. I am almost 38 years old and I am aching for a baby with my new husband. Before him, I never felt like I could think about the baby thing as I never found the right guy. My husband is a kind, warm, generous, and loving man. He is a great father to his seven-year old son, Eliott (from a previous marriage). I love how we are together as a family. I love that little boy more than I ever thought I could love anyone. And that helps me see how having a baby would be icing on the cake for our already happy lives.

Trying

Now that I have figured out that I do want a baby and that it is a good choice for our family, it has gradually consumed my thoughts over the last few months. You see, we have been “trying” to have a baby since almost the day we got married. Trying… yep. Some things I have noticed about trying:

1. Trying can be very fun!

2. Trying makes you experiment in ways you probably wouldn’t unless you were trying.

3. Trying can become very medical. Have sex this day, this way, etc.

Infertility Facts:

I didn’t realize that infertility effected so many people. As much as I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, I am comforted to know that I am not alone. That is really one of the main reasons for sharing my experience here is this post. If it helps one other woman, than that is something good that has come from all of this.

The following was taken from Resolve.org, the website for The National Infertility Association (with a few comments of mine thrown in):

Infertility is a major life crisis for 1 in 8 couples. This is especially true for women over 35 years of age.

There is a noticeable decline in the fertility rate starting at age 35 to a level of about 10% per month. A woman over 35 seeking to get pregnant should consult a fertility specialist after only 6 months of actively attempting to become pregnant. The pregnancy risk for a woman over 35 is higher, as well as evidenced an increase in the miscarriage rate and the incidence of genetic abnormality in pregnancy. At 35, the miscarriage rate is 25% and the risk of Down syndrome becomes about 1/350. It is also the age at which genetic testing in pregnancy is first recommended since the chance of picking up an abnormality is greater than the risk of the procedure used to find it. Scary!

For women and men fighting the disease of infertility, the infertility experience involves many hidden losses for the individuals, their loved ones, and society as a whole, including:

• Loss of the pregnancy and the birth experience
• Loss of a genetic legacy and loss of future contributing citizens to the next generation
• Loss of the parenting experience
• Loss of a grandparent relationship
• Low feelings of self-worth
• Loss of stability in family and personal relationships
• Loss of work productivity
• Loss of a sense of spirituality and sense of hope for the future.

Because infertility often involves major personal life issues and decisions, it is often viewed as a private matter and is not ordinarily discussed in public forums. The personal nature of the infertility experience contributes to the failure of the public, politicians, healthcare professionals and the media to recognize infertility as a disease. This causes a lack of sound knowledge and available resources about infertility.

The Hidden Effects of Infertility on Self-Esteem and Relationships
Infertility has a strong impact on self-esteem. Suddenly your life, which may have been well-planned and successful, seems out-of-control. Not only is your physical body not responding as expected, but it feels as if your entire life is on hold.

In addition, I read in my infertility booklet from my doctor that women who experience issues with pregnancy are under similar stress as to those who have cancer. I totally feel like this resonates with me. My life is dependent on my next cycle, my next lab result, or my next doctor’s appointment. And sometimes I feel like I am trapped in a holding pattern without the ability to get excited as I may just as easily be disappointed. I have tried talking to a few people, and some really understand, while others are just not sure how to relate. Let me explain all the things I have done over the last five months.

Tests

Warning: This could be a little graphic and too much information for those that don’t like to talk about the body.

I have experienced a few issues with my cycle and some very heavy bleeding, so I have been getting a ton of tests done to see if things are working properly down there.

1. Pap Smear/Regular healthy check up – All came back fine

2. Blood work for thyroid problems – Came back normal. I have had this done twice.

3. A transvaginal ultrasound where they fill your uterus with a balloon and blow it up so that it stretches to look for fibroids/cysts and abnormalities (It hurt! and I bled and cramped for a week after). All was good except I found out I have a tilted uterus. I had never heard of such a thing, but I guess about 20% of women have it and it’s really not a big deal. So that means we need to use a couple different positions that are better, but that has been a fun process.

4. Endometrial biopsy to make sure I don’t have endometriosis. Thankfully, I don’t have it. Whew.

5. More blood work to test my hormone levels. All are good during the first stage (follicular) of my cycle. I need to have them tested again during ovulation and post ovulation (luteal phase).

6. Tracking my basal temperatures to ensure I have a proper cycle. I do. And then the dance of timing intercourse accordingly. Some say have sex daily, some say every other day, and some even say every three days. Ugh.

7. Using at home ovulation kits. That means peeing in a cup and waiting 4 minutes for a result of yes you have FSH hormones present or nope, still waiting until that magical time to make the baby.

8. Even my husband had to provide a “sample” and he is quite proud of his results. So all is good there.

I still need further hormone testing and I will have the HSG test this month, which is an ultrasound and dye they inject into your fallopian tubes to make sure they are open. Also a bit painful from what I hear.

Just this week, after 10 months (and because I’m over 35) of trying, they have referred us to the fertility clinic on post in March.

Reading, Reading & More Reading

Access to information has been great on the Internet. I have read vast articles about the menstruation cycle, natural fertility options, and the actual pregnancy process. I have subscribed to blogs and joined online forums. Sometimes I think there is too much information and I can get overwhelmed pretty easy.

In the process, I have learned so much about my body. We are only taught the tip of the iceberg in 7th grade health class. A woman’s body is a very amazing thing and what has to happen physically between a man and a woman to get pregnant is beyond amazing. For all those things to line up and get pregnant is truly a miracle. One of the best books I have read is: Taking Charge of your Fertility: The Definitive Guide to Natural Birth Control and Pregnancy Achievement by Toni Weschler, MPH. I have read this book cover to cover and I have gone back and referenced it more times than I can count. If you are trying to get pregnant, I couldn’t recommend it more. I bought a used copy that was in excellent condition on Amazon for $3.99 including shipping.

Emotions

During this process there has been a lot of ups and downs. At first, it is no big deal as you are just having fun trying. But after a few months of no pregnancy and several early pregnancy test disappointments it starts to stack up. After the continued testing and everything coming back good, the wonder of why haven’t we gotten pregnant yet is getting stronger. The realization that we may have been pregnant three or so times and lost the baby very early is crushing. The latest is only last Friday. The emotions are high as I am sure my hormones are, too.

I have so many questions running through my mind:

1. Did I wait too long? After all, 38 is fast approaching and my body is feeling its age. I have lost a lot of eggs and they are aging too. Darn old eggs.

2. Is there something wrong with me? I have thought all sorts of really negative thoughts here. From do I have cancer to am I premenopausal and the list goes on. But the continued healthy test results are helping to keep these thoughts at bay.

3. I am a woman. This is what I as built to do, so why can’t I do it? I have even questioned my femininity. Seriously crazy thoughts.

4. Why are there babies and pregnant women everywhere I go? I am super sensitive to kids and babies right now – they seem to be everywhere. And on military bases I think the preggo genes are extra high. Something is definitely in the water. Too bad we live off post.

5. Does God not want me to have a baby? Maybe he knows something we don’t. I have faith that everything happens for a reason and I am trying to figure out the lessons he is trying to teach. Patience is not one of my virtues, so that may be part of it. I have been so blessed this last year, I actually feel a bit greedy asking for this, too.

6. How long will we try until we think about different options? We could start the adoption process now…

7. How much fertility treatment do we want? I know I don’t want to be a science experiment.

8. What if my husband gets deployed and we lose a year of options? Some of his trainings have conflicted with my ovulation cycle, which doesn’t help either.

9. We are married  – shouldn’t we start a family? Starting a family is a natural progression for a couple. It seems so natural to want that.

10. People keep asking us about having babies, “Ahhh so when are guys going to have a baby?” I am not even sure how to answer these questions any more.

Many of these are normal questions and thoughts. Most, I can logically come to terms with, but some linger and even gnaw at me. My husband is very reassuring, but I don’t think he will ever really understand how this feels. In many ways every month feels like a failure. And for folks who know me, failure is not an option. But I can’t control this process. Nature has to do its part, too.

If you have a friend or family member going through this, here is a link to help with what to say and do to support her. Please don’t tell her to relax. I think I might hit the next person that says that.

Infertility options

Now, we wait for a group class to go over all the fertility options available to us and then set up an appointment with the doctor to begin treatment. We are still about two months away from seeing the doctor, so we have a couple more cycles to try on our own before we go there. A couple more cycles of tracking my temperature and tracking our sex habits. A couple more cycles of possible disappointment. Or a couple more cycles to get pregnant and then start freaking out about miscarriages, chromosome defects, and the like. Because I am older the risks are higher. And that makes the worry more. I know worrying doesn’t solve anything, but I care very deeply about this and thus I begin to worry. Such a crazy cycle.

I am not even sure how much of a scientific experiment I want to be. I don’t think that pumping myself full of hormones can be a good thing. I try to eat organic and clean options so putting chemicals in my body seems counterintuitive. The idea of having invasive procedures and being cut open is not appealing because there are no guarantees no matter what we try. When we first started this process we said that we were going to have faith in God’s plan, but be proactive in the process. When is enough? And at what age do we think is too old to have kids? Do we want to be in our 60s and have a kid in high school? These are all decisions we have to look at once we have the information. We are still a bit away from having to make them for now.

Helping others

This baby making process is a lot to take in. I may go crazy through this process, but I know I am not alone. I have not opened up about this to anyone until this past week. It is very private the whole baby making thing. What is amazing is I have found I am not alone. Many of my friends have had fertility issues, miscarriages, and a couple have had babies die. And they all lived to tell about it. All have beautiful healthy children now.

Not feeling alone has helped me get through the darkest moments. And I hope by sharing my story it will help others. I also hope that my story ends well. Making a baby is such a special miracle and I wish those tiny miracles to all those that want them!

Migraine that made me so light sensitive I had to rock my shades in the ER.

I have had a string of health issues to contend with the last couple of months. Nothing that I would call serious, but certainly the results could have gone very differently and could have been life changing.

There have been CT scans (I even had a transient episode – reaction to the dye), MRIs, X-rays, blood tests (my arms are all bruised from all the needle pokes), ultrasounds, orb scans, and I have been to more doctors and specialists than I can count on one hand. I recently had surgery in the emergency room for an infected cyst on my neck that was giving me a migraine so bad that I was dry heaving. It has been crazy.

Lately, because of all of my health issues I haven’t been as active, but I am still trying to do the right thing for my body and eat right, take isotonic vitamins, and live a healthy life. Over the last year and a half I have lost almost 40 pounds, over 20 inches, and 10% body fat. I feel better than I have in years, but with all these health issues it makes you see that the body is a sensitive thing. One thing out of whack can cause so many other problems.

My very fast husband acting like he is trying to catch up to me at the finish line.

I try work out at least three days a week. Well, I like to do Zumba which is more like going dancing for me. I find such joy and fun in Zumba. You definitely need to find something you love to make it stick. In addition, I run, ok more like walk/jog 5ks about once a month with friends or my hubby, which is funny because I am so not a runner. I actually despise running and before every 5K I ask myself, why the heck am I doing this? But after each race, I am so glad I did it.

I am not going to stop investing in my future with my health. What are you doing to take care of you?

Who knew that such a little creature could show you what is really important about life? He teaches me so many things every single day. Below is my favorite six. But I may have to add to it as he keeps teaching me every day.

1. Start everyday as an adventure. “What are we going to do today?” he always asks in the most excited voice. Whether I say that we are going to camp, or the museum, or to the pool, it doesn’t matter. I get the same big grin and a, “Woo-hoo!” from him. His zest for life is contagious and brings me joy.

2. Learn how to play. When we eat we have fun games like staring at daddy, or the look over there and steal a chip from someone else’s plate, or the favorite of late asking, “Hey got any grapes?” from a funny YouTube video his uncle found. He eats slow and says food is tasty or delicious. And he doesn’t rush away from the table to get things done. He just enjoys the moment.

3. Always be curious. He asks about why the weather works a certain way and when his tomato plant will be ready, and how to tie his shoes. He is always asking questions and learning. He doesn’t feel dumb or shy about it either. He just simply asks. And it is absolutely adorable when the light bulb goes off and he “gets it.”

4. Conquer your fears.  He gets scared of the dark and is afraid to put his head under the water, but he eventually gets over it and doesn’t relish in his fears. He overcomes them almost every day. And learns that he is way stronger than he was yesterday. His bravery is humbling. He is never afraid to be proud of himself, too. He will shout his triumphs to anyone who will listen.

5. Love like there is no tomorrow. His enthusiasm for the people around him is amazing. He will run into your arms and give you the biggest hug and smile anytime you ask. He often shares that he loves us “too much.” Is that even possible? He says he loves us more than the solar system or the galaxy. His love literally is not confined by space. It is just a pure gift of acceptance.

6. Smile and wave. He makes friends so easily. Within just mere moments he has charmed the gate guards on base, or made two friends at church, or is playing ball at the pool. There is no wavering or wondering about that person, just, “Hey! You want to play?

What have you learned from your kids?

Because my mother left my biological father with almost nothing when I was about a year old, we didn’t have much for the first few years of my life. When I say much, I mean in the way of “things” and material goods. But as I was so young, I didn’t really know better. I just thought that is the way things were. My mom didn’t fuss or act worried. She made the best of the situation at least in front of me. I am sure she spent many a night fretting over paying bills and feeding me.

What we did have was a whole lot of love.

Hmmm, what does not having much mean? It means, I learned to value what was really important, like relationships and love. My mother taught me to be thankful for what we had, to appreciate each and every blessing along the way, and to never take things for granted. I know that this was super important to her as I was an only child and she never wanted me to be that stereotyped spoiled brat kid. She took me to some of her patients (she was a visiting nurse) houses to provide a home cooked Christmas dinner, we bought presents for their kids and wrapped them. We took in stray animals. She was always showing kindness to others and giving in ways that most people who had way more than we did had never even thought about doing.

I don’t remember lots of presents or being lavished with gifts and toys as a kid. I remember hot dogs for dinner and having fun with my mom on the playground and baking cookies together. These are the memories and real gifts my mother has given me. She taught me to think of others, to have compassion for those less fortunate than myself, and to be thankful for the smallest things like rainbows and dancing in the rain.

We hosted exchange students and so many times we had people over for holiday dinners who didn’t have family around. Our home and table was always open. This is why family to me is so much more than blood. We have created “family” with people who don’t share our blood and they have graced our lives with special memories and real bonds of friendship.

Today, as I write this blog/book, I know she taught to me listen to other people’s stories. To value each person’s experiences and to provide a hug when needed. I know that she has guided me to this place and she supports my work here. I am so very thankful for a mom that has given so many people so much. I guess that is why so many of my friends and people who know her call her mom. That is OK, my mom taught me to share, too!