The Story of Praying

Well, you almost had me fooled

Told me that I was nothing without you
Oh, but after everything you've done
I can thank you for how strong I have become

He and I were separated the majority of our marriage, either by choice or because of his incarceration for various reasons. At one point while he was in jail, he would call me collect on my cell a lot, promising changes, a different life, how much he realized he loved me, how he would change. He wrote letters, sent them to my office. Some were love letters, and some were more threatening letters where he would address the letter to me using my maiden name opposed to my married name, his last name. It was just another way to mess with my head, my heart, push me like only he knew how.

As a Christian, I struggled with getting divorced and if I would be sinning. I read verse after verse in the Bible late at night as I lay in my childhood bedroom in my parent's house. Some nights convincing myself that it was ok to get divorced, other nights convincing myself it was ok to stay and what I SHOULD do. I did not want to sin against God, I didn't want to be considered an adulterer if I got remarried one day. I prayed daily, nightly, sometimes hourly - "GOD - WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO???" I would ask for signs. Play mind games with myself. If he says such & such tonight, I'll stay. If he doesn't say such & such I won't. If we go a week without him calling me a crazy bitch, if he hurts me one more time, if he comes home by 9pm, the list goes on and on. I just needed an answer, and I wasn't strong enough to make that decision for myself. Obviously, one day I made that decision, and that's for another story. 

I do believe that part of forgiving someone, or the real attempts to, involve praying for them. Praying for you. So sometimes I do pray for him. I pray that he turns his life around. I pray he quits drinking, that he realizes he is a child of God and he is loved and he is worthy of better. He may act like he is IT, but deep down I know he is a broken soul. Unfortunately it doesn't seem that way as of right now. I pray for the children he has had and left fatherless in the biological sense, for the women he's left to support children without the child support they deserve. I don't think I'll be able to ever completely forgive him. I just was telling Brian yesterday about how I was going to write this, and said - "How can I forgive someone who after 11 years of being divorced from, I'm still blogging about, having nightmares from, still healing from?" That's why Kesha's new song and her lyrics are so powerful - some things only God can forgive. 

I hope you're somewhere prayin', prayin'
I hope your soul is changin', changin'
I hope you find your peace
Falling on your knees, prayin'

Oh, sometimes, I pray for you at night
Someday, maybe you'll see the light
Oh, some say, in life, you're gonna get what you give
But some things only God can forgive

The story of the unused razor blade

I was so stuck...do I stay? Leave? Can I fix him? I'm his wife...reading "Power of a Praying" wife. I could pray so hard that he would remember that he loved me and why he married me. Surely he didn't mean all those things he said. Those things he did. He's just tired. Just hungover. Just stressed. I don't love him enough, I don't show my love enough. What am I doing wrong?? Constant back and forth. I couldn't go on like this. There is so much shame. You feel so alone. You can't tell many people, or rather, you feel like you can't. It's such a lonely, lonely place.

I decided to try and get his attention. If I died, or almost died, then he'd feel so bad and straighten up. He'd really love me then. He'd feel bad...you see how sick this position makes you think. That it is your fault. 

I don't remember the specific day...but all of a sudden I found myself sitting on the toilet, with the lid down. The door locked - he was "recovering" on the couch. Razor in hand. I was sitting there, imagining how bad he'd feel - hopefully. I never made a cut, not even a scratch...but the point is that it drove me to that point. You can have so many people in your life that LOVE you...that if they knew what was going on, they would drag your rear end out of there. 

I know that now...but you're in a bubble. And only those that have lived in that bubble, can understand what I mean. Physical, verbal, emotional, mental abuse - alone or all together have such power. It's almost as if you become addicted to something you never meant to try. 

I know a lot of this post was just rambling, but I was back at that state in my head, where it was a bunch of scrambling around. 

If you are living that bubble right now, and feel like you are alone - you are not. First of all you're never alone because God never leaves your side. But I'M HERE. Even if you don't know me, I'M HERE. I've lived that bubble. Call me - 615-509-1539 - or text. 

The story of the jail cell "tenant"...

I can't believe it's almost been a month since I wrote out a story! A busy few weeks with moving back into the house, a sister-in-law's wedding, deadlines and several sicknesses! I've thought about what I'd write next. There is still so much to write out. And I'm happy to report that writing these stories have proven to be very therapeutic to me. I especially hope by now one of these stories has reached someone that led them to help.

What to tell...what to put out there...

How about the story of the jail cell "tenant"...

One of the times that he got out of jail, I picked him and his new friend up to bring them both home. He had said he made a friend "inside" that really was a good person just needed a starting place. I remember those jail cell phone calls. Every few minutes you get a ding to put in another quarter so you can keep talking.

Where did these 2 want to go eat? Amerigo's downtown Nashville. I took them. I took them both, and I paid for both. Of course his friend didn't have anything. No clothes, shoes, boxers, toothbrush. I bought it. We had an extra room he could sleep in; my stepson's, since we only had him every other weekend.

They were going to look for a job together. The first week was about resting and "recovering" from being in jail. Second week was scanning the classifieds while watching a little TV. Third week was to decide which places in classifieds they were going to actual apply to. You get the idea.

The original agreement was that he could stay up until a month, maybe 2, just to get back up on his feet a bit. I like to think of myself as a giving person. I want to help others, always. Everyone deserves a second chance. We're all one decision away from having a totally different life. 

He ended up staying for about 3-4 months - as my memory serves me. 

So, they never got jobs, but they got along just fine in the 3400 sq. house with a bonus room TV and sectional we had that I was struggling to keep the lights on for. I picked and chose each month the bills that were going to get paid. I finally told our new friend he had to leave. I couldn't afford to feed him anymore (he was a very muscular, large guy!).

He moved out. He really was a kind guy. I don't remember if I took him somewhere or if someone picked him up. But I got the silent treatment for at least a week. Or little "crazy bitch", or "cruel ass bitch" every here and there. But I was made felt as I had done something wrong. I housed a homeless guy for a month - who I didn't even know his real name! Who knows what he could have done... But there was no way I could actually say "no" to - what did I say I was going to call him? Ha! (Do I have the right to use his real name because of freedom of speech???) Didn't matter he still didn't have a job and still managed to have cigarettes to smoke. Sigh...take a guess at who drove to the gas station to buy said cigarettes for him. 

Belittled. Deceived.

The story of the high speed chase

He had been missing, gone, for at least a week this time. He wouldn't answer the phone. Wouldn't text back. Not even an "I'm ok". The timeline of our marriage in my head is so blurred I don't even know what month this was. I'm pretty sure it was after tax season though, so possibly May of 2005. But those are just minor details.

I took the day off of work to stay home and attempt at focusing enough that I could study for the part of the CPA exam I had coming up. I was sitting at the dining room table. We had a bay window & the house sat up on a hill so I could easily see down to the culdesac. I remember the sound of the garage door opening and I looked out the window and there was his truck. That damn truck I had to pay the note on because it was in my name.

However, he wasn't expecting to see my car when he opened the garage door - he thought I'd be gone to work. I ran out the door and they were backing out of the driveway & closing the garage door. The girl he had been sleeping with. I had never seen her face. AND she was driving! Driving THE CAR I PAID FOR. I saw red.

If you can imagine, you see your husband, who you haven't seen or heard of in over a week, finally show up. Then he tries to run away. I flew down to my car as fast as I could. I don't even think I put shoes on. I flew down my driveway, it bottomed out at the pavement, and I started chasing them. Out of the neighborhood, down the street and up to the on ramp of the interstate. I'm honking the whole time. We get on the interstate, and I pull up next to them, and I see her. Why her? What is she doing that I'm not? What is so wrong with me?

I'm yelling PULL OVER! PULL OVER NOW! They're both flicking me off and I see him laughing. We get up to almost 100 mph on I-24. She's mouthing "CRAZY BITCH" at me. Who knows what lies he told her about me. But she was right, I was crazy. It makes you CRAZY. Do things you would normally never do.

After a few miles I just let them go. What was I going to do? Wreck us? I went back home. Cried. Yelled. Screamed. I felt crazy insane and completely alone and helpless. I don't remember when he came back after that. 

But apparently I forgave him and believed his "I'm sorry"'s, because this story continued on for at least another year. That's one of the things about domestic, emotional, psychological abuse. It's a cycle. A vicious cycle. And so so hard to get off the merry go round. 

The story of the 1 year anniversary

As I stated in one of the earlier posts, our mind has a way of protecting us from painful memories. Just blocked. I know that within 6 months I was already staying at my parents house, which luckily was only about 3 miles away. But for some reason, I took him back and we tried to move forward.

It never crosses your mind to ask the person who is driving, if not you, if they have a legal drivers license. I mean, you'd just ASSUME if they're an adult driving a car, they are legally allowed to do so. Well, I didn't ask Bart when we were dating if his was legal. Much less ask how many DUIs were on his record. He never even had a car while we were dating. He just always had a ride. I did end up signing for him a very nice black SUV. But, that's for another story.

Anyway, back to this story. Bart was in jail during the last few months of our first year of marriage. Apparently he got pulled over driving a friend's car while drunk. Apparently he had a very long list before I met him - mostly DUIs. After several weeks in a way-too-nice-and-expensive-for-me home all alone I picked him up on the day he was released...our one year anniversary. I was SO EXCITED. Y'all. I was under his spell. I was EXCITED - to pick up my husband for our anniversary from JAIL. I should've been so pissed that I let his ass walk home from the jail that day.

But, I didn't. Instead, a friend loaned him money for us to have an anniversary dinner. We had like, NO MONEY. I was the only employed one. Y'all know where we went...THE PALM. Ha! We looked so good too. I remember sitting there feeling so special. My husband took ME to THE PALM for dinner the day he got out of jail! I'm sure he would've rather gone out with friends or just sleep in the bed, but he humbled himself to borrow money from a friend so he could TAKE me to dinner... (it really makes me gag now)

That's what the emotional abuse does. I mean, it takes away so much of your self worth! My worth depended on whether or not he WANTED to sit by me on the couch at night instead of sitting on the back deck, in the same clothes he slept in the night before, drinking Captain and Coke, on the phone smoking cigarettes.

I didn't feel like a domestic violence victim. That was the women whose husbands punched them every day. We'd make it days that he wouldn't abuse me in any way! It was fiiiiiine. I could make him better. Nicer. Get a job. If I love him harder, he'll love me more. "He was just tired today." "Just hungover today." "Just stressed today." I can change him.

Even another big slap on the face like this one, wasn't a big enough, flashy enough sign for me. I still went back. And HOPED he'd CHOOSE ME.

The story of the missing newlywed

If you knew my ex-husband in real life, you'd understand that "to know him is to love him". He had one of those personalities that just draws people in. He's funny, charismatic, life of the party, and knows how to make everyone feel at ease. As you've read in previous posts though, that's not the same behind closed doors.

For our honeymoon we took a cruise to Mexico. I was 23, about to turn 24. Very young! We were ready to have a good time -  drink, lay out by the pool and party. We made some friends, as he always easily did, with a group of guys that were on a guys trip I suppose. I mainly remember just hanging out at the pool with them.

One of the nights we went to their cabin to pre-party. We had dinner as normal then went on to the clubs they had on the cruise ship. Next thing I know, I wake up in our cabin and he's gone. I yelled his name, no answer. Not in the bathroom. No where. It was like 3am I'd say.

I got out of our cabin and went up to the deck where the pool and hot tub were to see if he was up there or possibly passed out on one of the lounge chairs. Nope. I remember stumbling around yelling his name. I was so afraid he had gotten drunk and fallen off the side of the boat. Terrified. I probably walked that ship for over an hour.

I don't remember what time he came back to the room, but he refused to tell me where he had been - "just hanging out" - is what he said. I never did find out where he had been. Yeah, he could've just passed out in the guys' room, or he could've been in another girls' room. Who knows.

All I know is that my new husband didn't come "home" during our first week of marriage, and I was just supposed to accept that. That was the first of many nights I would spend alone, wondering where he was and who he was with.

The story of the twins

Saturday, October 4th, 2003. I went into the ER with severe pelvic area pain. They did a pelvic exam (which I had never had by the way), and an ultrasound. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but your baby is ectopic. We have to do emergency surgery right away. Tonight"

Let's go back about 2 weeks prior though. The last story, where my car was stolen. You can read that post here Stolen Car entry.

After that night, I started to have really sore breasts. My friends convinced me to get a pregnancy test. Positive. Which is ironic considering my infertility issues I dealt with later in life. You can read about that here Infertility story.

I was going to take care of the baby myself. I decided that day. Then my friends chipped in and said they'd help me raise it. I had just turned 23. Junior in college. I could do this.

A few days went by, I decided to tell him. He deserved to know. I told him. He wanted proof from a real test. He knew I was coming to pick him up for the test. He was still passed out when I got there that morning. I had to pull him out like a child and get him dressed. We went to a free clinic somewhere in a small town. Or maybe, it was in town. I don't know. But I felt far away from myself.

After that confirmed test, I went back to my car and smoked a cigarette. I knew it would be my last one in 9 months or more. I just needed one more.

We told my parents that weekend. Looking back, I'm really surprised my dad let him in the house. After we told them, I just remember Daddy saying, "We'll see if the cream will rise to the top". My parents let him sleep on their couch for a few nights. He had no car. No job. When I look back and think about this time, you know what he DID have? ME. F*cking me. Y'all, DO NOT be a door mat. Do not be the girl that falls for the boy then does EVERYTHING. You are worthy. Worthy of much more.

I had a job at Cingular (the cellular company that turned into AT&T) part time while I was in college full time. I had moved back to my apartment, and he followed me back there. It was Friday night and I have having the worst cramps I had ever had in my life. I got in the shower and let the hot water, as hot as I could stand it hit my stomach while I lay on my back in the tub. He never got up once to check on me. I went in to work Saturday morning and told my co-worker about the pain. She had 2 kids. Of course she'd say, oh that's normal! But I was sore! I felt like I had done an intense workout on my abs. She told me to go to the doctor. The ER. That wasn't normal. She texted her nurse friend.

I went back to my apartment to get him. We drove to Southern Hills hospital. Next thing I was having my first "girl" exam by a red headed ER doctor whom I had never met. I was scared to death. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but your baby is ectopic. We have to do emergency surgery right away. Tonight"

He hugged me. Told me it was going to be ok. He was here for me. He had to call my parents. My parents and sister got there right before surgery. If an ectopic pregnancy ruptures you can die. Hence the urgency. I remember my sister crying.

Next thing I know I'm waking up to Daddy and him trying to get the UT game on in the hospital room. It was probably the only thing they had in common. Ever. That was another HUGE SIGN. Donitka came. Donitka always came. She was always there. Erika came. Bless her.

We were released the next day. No sex for 6 weeks. He made me anyway THAT DAY. "I'll be easy. You'll be fine". Bastard.

I had to keep going to get my blood drawn to make sure the pregnancy hormone, HCG, was going down. It wasn't. "Ma'am, we need to do more tests"

"Ma'am, I'm sorry. They didn't check your other fallopian tube. The baby has already passed though, so we don't need to do surgery. We can just give you some chemo shots in both your hips to kill any remaining living cells." Cells.

Those babies weren't meant to be. I have another baby in heaven too. We had a miscarriage between Kenna and Everly. We don't understand God's way in the moment, sometimes decade. But we just have to trust he knows what he is doing.

This story's picture is of me and Donitka at a UT game. Seemed fitting :)

The story of the stolen car

You know...sometimes God flashes HUGE signs in front of us that we either ignore, or simply don't see because, you know what they say about love. It's blind.

It was my 22nd birthday, September 16th. Daddy had bought me one of those awesome CD changers where the face comes off. I was so excited. It was for my beloved Honda Accord coupe. 

I didn't go out that night, I was in school and I had a test the next day. I was living with a roommate and both our dogs. *Ben (actually, let's call him Bart, Ben is too nice of a name) was staying with us most nights at this point. I should add that this is a year before I married Bart. Bart wanted to go out, so he took my car. He didn't have a car.

I was woken up around 3am to loud laughing in the living room of the apartment. I went out there to to find 2 thug looking guys on my couch who I had never met, along with Bart. They were clearly trashed. I told Bart to the side to get them out of my house, I had no idea who they were. He told me I was crazy and just to take my crazy ass back to bed. I knew I wasn't going to win this battle, so I grabbed Toby, my dog and laid in bed until it was quiet and I went back to sleep. 

I woke up at like 5, all was quiet and I went out to the living room. Bart was passed out on the couch. I looked around and saw my purse on the kitchen table. All my cash, my debit card, MY KEYS were gone.

I ran outside to the parking lot. My car was gone. I ran back in and tried to wake him up, asking him where the F*CK my car was. He was no use. He couldn't even talk, still too drunk.

My roommate drove me to my parents house and I told Daddy what had happened. Daddy drove me back to the apartment, his gun with him. We had no idea if these guys were coming back...what we would come back to. We walked up to the door to hear a blaring noise. It was my alarm clock. He was still passed out, no budging. Daddy banged on the door until he finally unlocked it. Remember, I had no keys. I don't know how he managed to get up and lock the door. 

Daddy told him to get his ass up he was taking him "home". I don't even remember where that was at that point. Maybe his brother's. It was over, it was done. I couldn't be with someone who would bring random people to my house without my permission. And they had STOLEN my car. Luckily, my car was found 2 weeks later abandoned in a parking lot. Of course it had been stripped, along with my new CD changer. 

I had decided the relationship was over. Of course it was. Until about 3-4 weeks later when I discovered I was pregnant.

That story will be next...

The Story of bar hopping

*Ben had a knack for just not coming home at night. This is before iPhones. Before you could "track your friends". These were Blackberry days. He worked downtown and a lot of his line of work would be to wine and dine. Funny I was never invited to these events.

One night we were supposed to actually have dinner at home. Together. A rarity.

5:30 came. Then 6. So I called. No answer. 

7 came. 8 o'clock passed. No calls. No answers.

It MAKES YOU CRAZY. They warned me. There were bets on how long the marriage would last. 

We lived almost to Nolensville. I was tired of being the waiting wife that night in particular. A lot of nights when he did come home, I'd be lying there just waiting into the early morning hours. When I heard the garage door, I'd turn out any lights and get still as a mouse. I didn't want him to know I'd been waiting. Pathetic he'd say.

So this one night in particular I was determined to find *Ben. I went alone on a Friday night downtown Nashville to at least 7-8 bars. All these happy, dancing, laughing people. Couples. Friends. They had no idea. I'd search every room. I probably looked like a crazy woman. Crying. Just desperate.

I never did find him that night. He never came home either. One of many. So so many. Not counting the nights he was sleeping in a jail cell. But that's for another story. 

The story of the unfurnished room

Our brain has a way of protecting ourselves by keeping us from remembering all pieces of a traumatic experience or time in our lives. A lot of parts of my first marriage are blurry, just glimpses of time that sometimes pop up, just little bits of certain moments. Not knowing when it happened, why or where along that part of my life it was. Some of it is such a blur...but there is one moment that is played over and over.

We had this nice house, with almost all of the rooms furnished but one. It was to the left when you walked in the front door...I guess what you might call the sitting room. It was carpeted, with a railing around the wall. The rest of the house was furnished with little decor but nice furniture. 

I don't know what I did to set him off in the middle of the day, but I was thrown against the wall in that unfurnished room. My whole body going up in the air and across the room until I hit the railing on the wall and then slid down. Before I could get up I was being kicked. In the stomach. In the back. I fought for him to stop, but he just yelled "crazy bitch" at me and some other things I don't remember.

The next moment his hands were around my neck, choking me. I do remember thinking, this is it. He's going to kill me. I fought and I scratched for what seemed forever. I don't know why, but he let go. Walked upstairs and went to bed. 

I was too scared to call anyone. I may have not been able to. One time he broke my phone on the kitchen floor - but I don't remember if that was this same day.

I went upstairs and laid on the bonus room couch, blankly watching TV. After he woke up, he came in, laid his head in my lap with his pillow, like nothing ever happened. I was too scared to move. The only thing that lingered were the bruises on my neck.

Talking my stories out

My dear friend Amanda McNeal took these photos of me a few weeks back. She drew the sketch out and had her art in mind and I had no idea what she would create from the images. After looking at the picture and studying it, I see how it was perfectly meant for me. The current Carla has a healthy and happy life moving forward in time, but she also drags the old me behind her, looking over her, trying to save her. I have nightmares, a lot of them, so my subconscious cannot escape my past. The present me carries the past me on her shoulders every day. My psychiatrist told me that I haven't "talked them to death" - meaning I haven't shared my painful stories enough to just get them out.

I have struggled with depression and anxiety for years. Thankfully there is medication that helps me with these mental sicknesses. There are several reasons I believe I struggle from both - one genes, and the other the events of my life so far. I have decided to change the theme of this blog to being pieces of my story. I hope that one, it allows healing for me, and two, that it opens the door for others to also talk about their story, common experiences, or current struggles.

A lot of these stories I will use fictitious names to give others privacy. I hope that whoever reads this will benefit in some way, or can share it with someone else who may just need to hear that they are not alone.

Time to let go,

Carla

A Miracle In the Making

If you go back a few blogs, you'll see that over 2 years ago we were told we only had a 5-10% chance of ever having another baby. That is why I call this baby our Miracle #2. Actually, if you actually learn the ins and outs of what REALLY has to happen to make a baby...ALL babies are miracles. I've been so open with our journey so far - infertility and adoption - I shouldn't stop now. So, I'll share this baby's story.

In December/January, I decided that I had to do the most extensive of fertility treatments so I knew we had done everything that we could to have a biological baby. So, we started down the IVF road. You have to attend a class and pay lots of money up front. (In some states, infertility treatments are covered by insurance; Tennessee is NOT one of those states).

We got started on injections, and for me this consisted of up to 3 shots in the morning in my abdomen and 3-4 shots in the evening. I took the highest dosages for egg stimulation as possible. They want you to have at least 5 mature eggs for you to continue the IVF cycle, so there is a better chance of conception.

The spread...

A friend took half the dosage I did and got 27 eggs! Me... after 10-12 days of shots, I had ONE. So, our nurse asked us if we wanted to cancel this cycle & try again. I knew that this was our only go with all the medications and the cost, so we did cancel the IVF (no choice since only 1 egg) and instead did an IUI - intrauterine insemination.  This was our 4th IUI in about 2 years. A week after the IUI you give yourself another shot to help the uterus to sustain a viable pregnancy, and then you have to wait another 3 weeks after that to take a pregnancy test.

The night before I was due to take my test, it took forever to fall asleep. I knew in the morning I'd have to test and see the same negative sign I've seen for the past 4-5 years. I dreamed I dropped all my tests in the toilet by accident - very stressful! When I woke up, on February 5th, Brian was already gone to the office. I took TWO tests, laid them on the sink, then got back in bed. Kenna woke up and got in bed with me then I had to get up to take Abby out. I walked into the bathroom - and I was frozen to see 2 tests with 2 pink strips! I could NOT believe my eyes. I just stared for what seemed an hour with Abby whining at my feet. I go outside and call Brian...I say "well, I took my test..." He said "yeah...are you ok?" I about yelled "IT WAS POSITIVE!". I don't think I worked a lick that day.

Doctors don't always know the answer. 5% is STILL 5%. Have faith.

As for the adoption, they had to close our case after we were past the 1st trimester. We didn't get any of our fees that we paid in back, but we do get a discount if we decide to adopt in the next 3 years. I was sad the day the closed our case. We still have a heart for adoption. It was just a little over a  year ago we thought a baby was coming into our home in just 3 weeks, but then the birth mother changed her mind. We may have our plans, but God has the master plan! 

Why does God...??

"Why does God want my cousins to have 3 kids in their family?" Kenna asked me on our way to church yesterday morning.

She first asked "Why are there 3 kids in my cousins family?"

"That's how many babies Aunt Jess had."

"Why?"

"Because that's how many God wanted their family to have"

...

"Mama, can we have 3 kids in our family?"

"Yes, if that's what God wants. We have to wait and see how many kids God wants in our family. But we know he wanted us to have you!"

...

Kenna - "Waiting is no fun".

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She is right. Waiting is no fun; especially when you are waiting on something you want SO BADLY.  It is so hard to comprehend why God chooses our struggles specifically for us. I believe God has chosen me to go through certain trials in my life so that I can share them with others; so that they may have a soft place to land by confiding in me their own struggles. I was physically, verbally and emotionally abused and cheated on in my first marriage. I have suffered the loss of 3 unborn babies. I lost my best friend, my Daddy, almost 5 years ago to lung cancer. I suffer from depression and anxiety. And now we are trying to have a 2nd child, for 3 years now. I have had so many conversations with people because I have been through these things. I can empathize, understand, and listen with an open heart and mind. I don't always comprehend at the time "why me", but God has a way of showing his perfect timing in the end.

We are still waiting to adopt and still trying to have a baby "naturally" despite our odds. Our view is that "whatever God brings us first". I take NINETEEN pills a day for fertility boosting. (Don't worry - they're all safe). These include various vitamins, supplements and antioxidants, along with Chinese herbs. I have been going to a fertility acupuncturist once a week since last fall. So...I guess I am trying to "assist" God in bringing a baby! ;)

It was fitting that Kenna asked me "Why does God..." yesterday, as it was Daddy's birthday. I question so often why God took Daddy from this earth before he met Kenna, a child that would have made his whole world! But God also brought us Kenna at a time in our lives that were the hardest - we found out we were pregnant with Kenna just 2 weeks before Daddy passed. He has His perfect timing.

So, we wait.

Simultaneously Moving Forward

In a week from tonight, Brian and I will be attending an informational meeting at an adoption agency we are leaning towards - Bethany Christian Services.  I am excited and scared.  There are so many questions, yet, I don't know how to put the questions I have into words.  

Lately there have been a lot of "signs" pointing us towards adoption, which I feel we are destined to end up.  I met a lady at Kenna's gymnastics class who just adopted a baby boy, a precious baby boy, who is HER SON.  She is HIS MAMA.  Just seeing her hold him and love on him...there is no doubt.  She also has a biological daughter, but after finding out she had a chromosome issue, they decided to adopt instead of having another biological child. We happened to run into her and her family out to eat one night - completely random.  I think it was a sign. At the mall, at church, at preschool, at the Y today - I have seen so many parents with children that they have adopted (obviously).  AND, I received an email from a client with a link to his wife's blog about the story of adopting their baby girl after the wife struggled with secondary infertility after their first child because of endometriosis...ring a bell?

One of my biggest concerns with adoption is the nature vs nurture issue.  However, just because I didn't know all of Brian's ancestors (or mine for that matter), it didn't keep me from having a baby with him.  Plus, I know I have certain issues (anxiety & depression - which I take medication for and it stays under control, lung cancer runs in my dad's side, and horrible vision to name a few), but that didn't stop me from having Kenna, or trying to have another one.  EVERY family has their "issues", right?  We ALL have problems we have to deal with.  So, what is the difference in raising a child whom's genes I don't know exactly?  We are ALL God's children.  We are ALL different.  I think I just answered my own question.

So, the title is "simultaneously moving forward" - that's because I'm also taking medicine for fertility treatments.  Daily right now I take prescribed Estrace and Progesterone.  This is a certain protocol that is supposed to trick my body into doing what it should do on it's on, then try and get pregnant before it figures out that's not how it normally operates.  I also take recommended supplements and vitamins daily that make my purse sound like a walking medicine basket - CoQ10 (3x day), DHEA (3x day), prenatal vitamins, fish oil, and L-Arginine.   After this cycle (or the next) with all these meds, we are planning on doing one more IUI with Clomid.  I have come to terms that IVF is not for us.  

So, with all that said - WE ARE MOVING FORWARD.  I no longer feel stuck.  God is with us in our journey.  We are not alone.  I make a conscience effort to remember this every day, but it does bring some peace to some extent.  I also have a cute blonde headed green eyed little girl that makes things brighter :)  Thank God for her. 

The Continued Journey - Decisions, Decisions

Today, I am feeling stuck, yet all over the place with my emotions and thoughts.  I just need to write to get them all out, and pray at the same time.  

We did an IUI 2 weeks ago with Clomid - but, a negative pregnancy test this past Monday.  I kind of expected that, as in I didn't feel pregnant, but still, heartbroken.  

Today we had lunch with our Pastor to talk about the infertility and adoption.  He had some great insight, and some special stories to tell.  Talking to him was helpful, just to get some feelings out helps. This is such an emotional journey, with the only answers coming from yourself and God.  I think I'm a little bit in denial.  I mean, I've gotten pregnant 3 times in my life!  Granted, only 1 baby survived (a miracle apparently).  Sometimes I think maybe God gave my whole family Kenna at a time when we needed her most.  We found out we were pregnant with her 2 weeks before Daddy passed away.  It gave us joy in the midst of sorrow.

We know we want to do another IUI - the NP has a different protocol she wants to try with the 2nd one - some different medicines.  Now I'm trying to decide if I want to do an IVF too if the 2nd IUI doesn't work, even with the low chance I have been given that it would work (10-15% chance - but that's still a chance, right??).  The thing that holds me back from the IVF is the cost.  And we discussed that with our Pastor today too.  He said to think about it this way, either way you won't lose - you'll either have a baby at the end, or resolve that you did everything you could.  Either way, that is a lifelong purchase.  And if you amortize it out (like accountants do) not even a dollar a day for the rest of your life for that.  

Then part of me would be sad if we didn't adopt because I got pregnant.  Maybe somehow, by God's grace and a miracle, we do have another biological baby, would we still adopt anyway one day?  I wanted to be pregnant again...we were not going to find out the next time, wait until the baby was born to see if it's a boy or girl.  How exciting would that be???  And I loved being pregnant, BUT, a baby is a baby.  I don't love Kenna because she grew in my belly and she has my DNA.  I love her because we raise her. We love her.  We take care of her.  She is ours.  

Do we try the IVF, after another IUI?  Do we just move on if the next IUI doesn't work?  Can I completely shut the door emotionally on "doing all we could" for another biological child?  I don't know.  I need to pray about it.  Think about it.  Please pray for us to have clarity over the next few months, and patience with ourselves.

5-10% chance

We were told we have a 5-10% chance of IVF working, and even if it did, only a 10-15% chance of sustaining a pregnancy. All this boils down to the fact that my ovarian reserve (egg count) is extremely low. "I have nothing in my bag of tricks" he said. Such a blow. Such a heart break. I bawled as we left the office. I thought they would say "we'll just do this, you take this medicine and BAM! You'll have a baby!" My heart is broken.
We are going to do 3 cycles with Clomid, but after busy season because of the side effects. He also suggested some vitamin supplements which I'm going to try.
Right now, I'm still in shock and still trying to digest the news. I'm having a hard time accepting that at 32 I may not be able to get pregnant again.
Adoption is an option. But, I have to close the door on infertility before I can emotionally move forward with adoption. That is a long emotional road all in itself.
I walked in "the baby's room" in our house yesterday for something. The crib, bassinet and baby toys are all in there waiting. It hurt all over again.
Don't get me wrong. I know how blessed we are with Kenna. She is such an amazing child and I'm so proud she is mine. I think about how much I love my sister, how much Brian loves his siblings, and I want that for Kenna too.
Thank you for your sweet messages and your prayers. They are needed and so appreciated.
Love,
Carla

Gray Hair & "Old" Ovaries

I found my first gray hair at 17 years old. I would now estimate about 40% of my hair to be gray. Thank goodness for hairstylists and hair color that hide it. That's an easy fix.

However, being told this past week that my ovaries look older than I am, well, that isn't an easy fix. Apparently my ovaries look like I'm 40 based on an ultrasound that was done last Wednesday - and I'm 32. I also had some blood work done which the results came in yesterday and confirmed the original prognosis. They tested my AMH (Anti-Mullerian Hormone) level, which came back at a "very low" 0.3 ng/mL which, according to the Nurse Practitioner, they want to be at least a 1.0. Simply put, this test measures the number of eggs you have left.

Needless to say, I'm blind-sided with this new information. I mean, I knew there was something probably going on, like my endometriosis causing the infertility issues, and we could do a simple IUI (intra uterine insemination) and all would be dandy and I'd be pregnant! The NP said that there is hope but they would want to be very aggressive with my fertility treatments if we choose to do any. I asked if it was something that I did, and she said no, that sometimes it's genetics and sometimes they just don't know the cause of low AMH levels.  

We will go back in about 2 weeks and have another test done that will show if there is any scarring in my uterus from my C-Section with Kenna or from my endometriosis. This will give light on whether or not a baby would be able to attach itself to the lining.   

I do encourage anyone who is trying to get pregnant, and has not gotten pregnant in 6 months of actively (ovulation tests, charting, timing, etc) trying to consider getting a fertility consult done. It will not hurt anything to just know if there is something going on. I thought I had to at least 35 until I'd have to worry, but now, at 32, time is of the essence for me.  

I know deep down we are not done growing our family, I'm just not sure which path we will take to get there. I am so thankful to have a wonderful & supportive husband, a loving family,  and great friends and co-workers to talk to and lean on. But most of all, an almighty God who knows what is best. We will have some BIG decisions to make in the next month or so, so I ask for prayers of guidance and peace for us. 

Nashville Fertility Center - Here we come.

Part of me secretly thought it would never come to this.  I really thought that it would happen on it's own.  However, it hasn't! We had some tests ran. My thyroid is normal. And Brian's test, well, his results were "phenomenal" per the nurse who gave him his results ;)
So, we have been referred to the Nashville Fertility Center. Lots of paperwork has been completed, and now we wait to schedule our consultation. There are so many questions in our heads...how far will we go?  How much money will we spend? We have decided to take it one day at a time, that's all we can do anyway, right?  I'm anxious for the consultation and to see what our steps are.  I feel better just knowing that there is help, and that we are asking for it.  For anyone who has really had to "try" to get pregnant, you know the emotional toll it brings.  After a while, that roller coaster starts to bring you down.  So, we are moving forward!  Here we go...

Our Ongoing Journey to Baby #2

I have decided to share our experience in hopes that I can encourage someone else, and receive encouragement.  I have learned in my life that when I share things I have gone through, or that I am going through, I can open the door for other people to have someone to talk to when otherwise they wouldn't.  I have been through a lot in my 32 year old life, and I am willing to share with others in hope that I can help someone else.

So, here is the story of our current journey...

It only took 5 months to get pregnant with Kenna with no complications. We started in December of 2010 trying to have another baby and a sibling for Kenna.  6 months later in May of 2011 we learned we were pregnant!  We were so excited!!  I had to have early blood work because in 2003 I had an ectopic pregnancy which left a damaged fallopian tube and increases your risks to having another ectopic pregnancy.  To learn more about ectopic pregnancies, click here.  The blood work showed that my HCG levels were not increasing as they should be.  We had an early ultrasound that showed the baby was developing behind schedule.  We continued with blood work for a few weeks, which still showed my HCG was increasing, but not at the rate it should be.  However, I had started to experience nausea and felt like things were going to be ok!  We had another ultrasound on July 19th, 2011 that showed the baby had not developed at all and that there was a 99% chance the pregnancy would miscarriage.  We had a D&C the next day.  My heart was broken.

We tried again, month after month, for a year without any success.  I feared something was wrong, and went to see my doctor because I had been diagnosed with endometriosis with my ectopic pregnancy in 2003.  I had laparoscopic surgery on August 30th of this year to determine if it was back, and it was back, along with findings that my left fallopian tube is almost completely damaged and not "usable" from the ectopic pregnancy.  Also, the scar tissue from my c-section with Kenna was excessive and was causing my uterus to be moved up and against my abdomen - in a place it should not be.  My doctor fixed what he could, and told me after surgery he was optimistic we would be able to get pregnant.  We were told to try 6 more months, and if we are still not pregnant, we will be talking to a fertility specialist.  We have been trying now for 3 months post surgery with no baby on the way...YET.  We just crossed the 2 years of trying mark...which for anyone who has really had to "try" to get pregnant, you know the emotional roller coaster that each month brings.

We consider ourselves so blessed with Kenna who is perfectly healthy and happy.  My goal was to have Kenna and her brother or sister 2 years apart, and we are getting closer to 4 years apart now if we were to get pregnant anytime soon.  We just continue to pray for a healthy and happy baby in our near future, and continue to thank God for the beautiful little girl we have.

I wanted to share our journey, because there is such a thing as second child infertility, which not many people have heard of.  For those of you that are still trying for your first, please try to be patient with yourself, and talk to your doctor if you feel you need to.  Trust me, I know being patient is much easier said than done...and hearing "just relax and it will happen" gets really old!  Please share your story with me or share my story with someone else, and we can encourage each other.

Love,

Carla

Kenna Turns One!

Our baby turned one 2 weeks ago on November 7th. In one moment I think it has gone by so fast and it feels like I just had her a few days ago. In the next moment, I realize how much has happened in her one little year of life, and it feels right.
I am so proud to be this little girl's Mama. She is just so SWEET! I love when she sees me across the room after a few minutes of playing alone, and she comes over just to give me a big smile and hug, then goes off to her merry little way to play some more.
We got to have her party on her actual birthday at our house. We decided to keep it "small" with just family, but that included a lot of people! We're blessed to have so many family members that we are close to.
At one, she could walk about 6-7 wobbly steps. She was saying the words "uh-oh", "thank you" (in her own way), "da-da", "easy" and tries to say "itsy bitsy" for the itsy bitsy spider song. No "Mama" yet, but I'm patiently waiting... As patient as I can to hear those sweet little syllables!
Here are some pics from that very special day:



Good morning big one year old!



Kenna's Great Grandaddy & Grandmother



Brian with his dad and stepmom


Kenna and her Aunt Cici


Us with our birthday girl


Kenna loves her cousin Teaghan & giving hugs!



Big one year old!


Reading birthday cards


Yummy ladybug cake


Grandmother and my pretty Mama


Opening presents


Family of 3!


The aftermath of the cake!