Why today is so important

You know, when I started this blog, I had every intention of keeping it up. At least for a year. But if I followed through on every intention I've had, I'd be a blonde Zumba instructor meteorologist turned gourmet cook with an impeccable singing voice and concert pianist capabilities living somewhere that actually has four seasons. 

Today is a very special day. It's not my birthday or anniversary. It's not anyone's birthday in my family either. Today marks one year since I conceived this precious angel.

No, I don't actually keep track of every time the hubs and I...ahem...you know. (You can read all about our journey to parenthood here.) One year ago today, Eric and I nervously walked hand-in-hand into the reproductive clinic to do what I thought would be another failed attempt at conceiving. I admit I didn't want to do it again. The new school year had started (and all teachers know how chaotic that time of year is), the procedure was expensive, and frankly, I didn't want to deal with the heartache of another negative result.

So, why did you go through with it?

Great question! I'm a very religious person. I've been a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormon!) my entire life. Well, on the day I found out the insemination failed (Aug. 9, 2013), I fell on my knees to try and find comfort and understanding. I didn't really get an answer. So, I furthered my efforts by opening my scriptures, more specifically, the Book of Mormon, and read a verse about having abundant fruit after planting all of your seeds. The word ALL really stood out to me. I didn't feel like I could give up until I'd planted every last seed I could possibly try. And since the good Lord blessed me to start my period that day (betchya never thought a girl would say that), I felt like it was a chance I had to take.

The result?

The most beautiful baby in the world!

Whether it's religion or something else, we all have our ways of coping with tragedy and finding answers to difficult questions. And it breaks my heart into a million tiny pieces when I hear of other couples struggling with infertility, or perhaps even worse, losing their baby (and thanks to social media, I feel like I see a headline for a different tragic story every. single. day.). But I guess what I'm getting at is that you should never give up. 

Hm. Such a cliche, isn't it? And the truth is, sometimes we want to give up. Sometimes we want to feel sorry for ourselves. Sometimes we want a reason to be mad. I know I did at times. But if I hadn't let go of all of that negativity, I wouldn't be waking up (multiples times) to such a precious, perfect face every morning. So, whatever hardship befalls you, please persevere. Please find someway to push through it. The reward waiting for you is worth it. 

Now, to take my own advice. I'm going for a run, followed by some writing/brainstorming time (I'm looking at you, TA fans...more on book 2 later). It's time I did all I can do to make the changes I want to make. 

Our bumpy, chaotic road to parenthood

(Just a warning: This post will probably be lengthy. If you choose to read it, get comfortable.)

This will probably be the first and last time I delve into the details of our journey to parenthood, and that's only because infertility seems to be more and more common, and if I can remind someone who's going through/gone through what Eric and I have over the last three years that somehow you'll still make it out in one piece, well, then, I'll consider this post successful.

Our journey to parenthood officially started on August 9, 2010. That was the day Eric and I decided to take active steps to becoming pregnant. In my naive mind, once the decision was made, it was practically a done deal. In another month I'd be pregnant, then I could announce it to my parents, whose anniversary is August 9 (what a great gift, right?), and my new niece due in November would have a cousin close in age. All was perfect! 

Except it wasn't perfect. The next month came, not pregnant. The month after? Not even close. That disheartening pattern continued until January when I went in to see my doctor. 

FYI: I'm going to get kind of personal here about my infertility issues, so readers beware.

The reason I wasn't getting pregnant was incredibly obvious. I wasn't having a period. Simple fix. Doc gave me some progesterone to get that sucker started, so surely within a couple of weeks, conception would occur. Only it didn't. Not the first time, not the second time, not the fifth time, not anytime after. At this point I was growing more and more discouraged. It was getting close to 9 months since we decided to have kids. WHY WAS IT NOT WORKING????

Back to the doctor we go.

"Oh, you're just not ovulating! We can fix that! Clomid!"

Didn't work.

"Easy peasy. Double the Clomid!"

Still didn't work.

"Let's try Letrozole!"

Infertility: 413. Meds: 0.

"I think it's time you see a specialist."

Those words...Those words made me feel about two inches tall. So many questions ran through my mind: Why can't I get pregnant? Why is God making this so hard on me? Am I just not good enough for motherhood? What am I doing wrong? But the most tormenting question was one I was scared even to consider. 

If I'm supposed to have children, shouldn't it happen naturally? Am I fighting against fate by taking matters into my own hands?

Because let's just be honest here. Fertility treatments aren't cheap. They're not only expensive, but time-consuming, emotional, distressing, NOT FUN. Did I really want to go through all of that if it just wasn't meant to be? Or at least meant to be right now?

It took a lot of prayer to come to the conclusion that it was worth it, that I needed to do all I could to make children a reality in our lives, and once I did, God would handle the rest. And let me just say, marrying the right man to help me get through this made all the difference. At times I forgot he was going through it just like I was. I was so focused on me, me, why me, that sometimes I neglected to remember he was suffering emotionally like I was. But ever the patient, loving man that he is, he held my hand, stroked my hair, and reminded me of how loved and adored I was. I'll always love him dearly for that.

So off to the the fertility clinic we go. After a couple of exams and preliminary testing, a diagnosis was reached. Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS), which apparently is quite common. We opted for daily injections to help me ovulate, and when the time was right, to inject a megashot to release the egg. And just to give it our best chance, we decided to do an insemination. Everything was going to plan, and everything was working out. The day of the insemination came, and the procedure went beautifully! Two weeks later, I get a call, on my planning period as a matter of fact, and learn it didn't work. Whatever sadness and worthlessness I felt before was minimal to the agonizing heartbreak I felt then. I couldn't even stay at school. I wanted to go home, curl up in a ball, and cry, cry, cry, which I eventually did. Having to tell Eric was the worst part. We mourned together, but in our attempts to remain optimistic and faithful, we made a decision to move on. It was the only thing TO do. 

Interestingly enough, three weeks later, we found out we were moving to Florida. God apparently knew something we didn't when he didn't allow us to be pregnant then.

Fast forward to March 2013. Our fertility journey was going on 2.5 years, and I was growing more and more anxious. After several long months and several back-and-forths with insurance, I was able to return to a fertility place just down the street from where we lived. On our first appointment, we told the doctor everything we knew and that we wanted to take our best shot at being pregnant. She asked me if I'd heard of the drug Metformin. I told her I had and I was anxious to try it. (It's a diabetic drug that's been shown to help people with PCOS). In addition to the Metformin, we'd triple the dosage of Clomid and cross our fingers. I was a bit skeptical of doing Clomid again since we had no luck with it before, but I trusted in the doctor and the success stories I'd heard about Metformin, and we went with it. 

FINALLY in July 2013, we were ready for insemination #2. Everything was perfect! But then, on August 9th, we learned the results. Negative. 

I didn't want to do this again. At least, not anytime soon. It was just. Too. Hard. And emotional. Plus, school was starting and the pain of not being pregnant was just not something I wanted to deal with. 

But then something happened. Something that hasn't happened in YEARS. Later that day, August 9th, my period started. What the what??? That hasn't happened without being medically induced since long before I was married. At first I thought it was a sick joke the universe played on me. Not only are you NOT pregnant, but now you must suffer with bleeding and cramps and moodiness and discomfort! Muahahaha! I could hear it mocking me. But later that night, as Eric and I discussed the events of the day, he helped me realize that maybe the universe wasn't intensifying my pain. Maybe it was helping me understand that now was NOT the time to give up, but to press on in faith. I mean, how could I waste a perfectly good period by not doing everything I could to make children a reality in our lives? Again, the thoughts echoed in my head: Do all you can do, and God will take care of the rest.

So I called the doctor. A baseline sonogram was taken and everything was healthy. The medicine I ingested. The day of insemination #3 came. It was a sunny Sunday morning, August 25th, 9:15 AM, when my appointment was scheduled. With mixed emotions, a strange blend of hope and fear, we walked into the clinic with heads held high. The procedure was completed, quite painfully actually, and now the wait game began. I was fortunate enough to be thrust into a chaotic school year that helped ease my mind of the worries of possible pregnancy. Two weeks later, on Sunday, September 8th, I decided to take a test.

I never thought two pink lines could be so magnificently beautiful.

It was simply the most surreal moment of our lives. What we've wanted for so long was finally here. Could this really be true? Is the test accurate? It was. The blood test confirmed it. I was pregnant. Finally.

Today it's so easy to say the fertility journey was worth it, but I won't lie and tell you it was a walk in the park. It was a hard, painful road that eventually led to our happy ending, but I realize not everyone reaches the same ending. If I could go back to the beginning of my journey and tell myself a few things, it'd be this:

1. You are not worthless. You're inability to get pregnant is not due to not being good enough.

2. People are going to tell you that it'll happen when it's supposed to happen, and that God has a plan. While you may know in your heart this is true, you're not going to want to hear this. In your mind, it still registers that God isn't blessing you with a child because you're not worthy of one. In the words of Professor Umbridge, THIS IS A LIE.

3. Spend as much time getting to know and date your husband. The stronger the bond, the easier the journey.

4. Continue writing. To produce a work of art after months of labor is such a great reward. While it doesn't compare to making a baby, it is still joyous and wonderful, and you will find great happiness in doing what you love. 

How grateful I am that Eric and I pressed on midst the pain we felt year after year. It took us three years to hear Baby Mitchell's heartbeat, and it was the most glorious sound in the world. My heart is heavy with the thought of how many people go through what we went through and not have the same outcome. I hope you find happiness somewhere in life. 

And I hope you never give up, no matter how badly you want to. No matter the outcome of the journey, you will be better in the end. Somehow. 

Not-so-common things to be grateful for

Thanksgiving week. The time people publicly announce for what they're thankful. I've never participated in the Facebook frenzy of posting something to be grateful for every day in November, but I see a common trend: family, faith, children, talents, health, etc. It is true that these are the things to be most grateful for, and I for one am not an exception. My religion, my husband, and my family certainly round out the top three. But when I was a teenager, my mom had us do an activity where we had to list out 100 specific things/people/places/talents we're thankful to have, and it opened my eyes to how many life luxuries I'm surrounded with. I've done this exercise a few times since, and I thought I'd share ten of my not-so-common things to be grateful for.

1. CHAPSTICK - Seriously, words can't adequately convey how overwhelmingly grateful I am for this in my life. Some say using Chapstick is an addiction. Eh...maybe. But for someone with dry skin (and obviously dry lips), I'd be lost without it, especially after facing tropical-storm-like winds in Rexburg on an almost daily basis. At any given point I have access to at least three tubes of the stuff, and heaven forbid I leave it at home. Should that tragedy befall me, a stop at the nearest drug store will become a priority.

2. NETFLIX - More specifically, Psych. Remember the days when you had to go to Blockbuster/Hollywood Video/Movie Gallery, cross your fingers they had the VHS you wanted, and then rent it for 1, 2, or 5 days? Plus a damage fee? And then when DVDs came out, you were faced with an even greater dilemma. Is it worth the extra money to walk out with a disc instead of a VHS when it's still the same move? How lucky I am to press a few buttons and be presented with a myriad of choices! And Psych. Ah, Shawn and Gus. It's my go-to when I'm in need of a laugh. It doesn't matter if I've seen the episode or not. Shawn and Guster are always there for me.

3. LOTION - This item piggybacks Chapstick. There isn't much other explanation needed. Anyone with skin as ashy as mine can be understand.

4. HAIRDRYER - I am fortunate enough to have hair that can be dried in three minutes (yes, I've timed it) and it's ready to go. No need to straighten, though of course it doesn't hurt. Within minutes of getting out of the shower, I can be ready to go. This allows for extra sleep, a longer breakfast, or whatever else I feel like doing. It's magical, really.

5. GOOGLE - I'm only 26, but I still remember having to go to the library or a set of encyclopedias if I had question about something. You want to know the altitude of your state? You want to know the zip code of your great aunt? You want to win a bet about what else an actor or actress was in (thank you IMDB)? History, sports, music, math, science - Anything you can think of is just a search button away. Sure, not everything on the internet is legit, but there are still smart ways to search for whatever you're looking for. Having that much information at your fingertips is powerful, and while I enjoy the funny cat video as much as the next person, I still remember that because of modern technology, I hold the world in my pocket.

6. TENNIS SHOES - The hardest part of working out for me isn't the actual working out. It's actually lacing up my kicks, but once I do, I feel empowered. There's just something about putting on tennis shoes. Maybe it's because I only wear mine when I'm about to do something physically demanding, so my brain goes all Pavlov's dogs and thinks it's time to go sweat. Most of the time, that's the case. Also, my tennis shoes are incredibly comfortable, and who isn't grateful for comfort?

7. WORD - As an aspiring writer, this one should be obvious. I can type oodles faster than I can write, and can you even imagine a world without copy and paste? I'm sure I use that more in a day than I realize. 

8. PANDORA - I love that at any moment I can tune in to some genre of music or make a playlist that combines multiple genres of music. I love the variety, I love the diversity (and if you saw my Pandora lists, you'd find great diversity). Though the commercials grow tiresome, it's a small price to pay to have an instant music selection at my fingertips.

9. WII MARIO GAMES - The hubs and I have spent countless hours playing games together, and the common theme is Mario. Mario Kart, Super Mario Brothers (new and original), Mario 3D, and many more. I love playing with (and against) him. I attribute my love of Mario to my mom, who used to put playing Mario on our chore lists when we were kids, and my brothers, who always made me be Luigi but I was just happy to be playing with them. Years of happiness and excitement and family togetherness that is continuing on.

10. FACETIME/SKYPE - I can see my family at anytime, particularly my three little nieces. What else is there to say?

So, that's my list. There's plenty more luxuries I'm blessed to have in my life, and I have a feeling if I really look, I'll find even more. Simply put, life is good.

Don't pay the ransom!

I swear I just blogged yesterday, but according to the website, it's been close to six weeks. My bad. Quite a bit has happened these past few weeks.

Another trip home to Bama.

Annual family vacation to Pigeon Forge, TN (DOLLYWOOD!).

Move to a new apartment (one of the best decisions Eric and I have ever made).

New job for Eric.

FINISHED MY LATEST MANUSCRIPT!

And that, my friends, certainly warrants the need for all caps. Finishing my latest project has actually been one of the biggest milestones of my adult life. I can't wait to tell y'all more about it, but the time isn't right yet. I can say it isn't a sequel TA, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm not working on one. No news yet on a potential release date.

No news yet on a completion date either.

This is also my last week of freedom before I go back to school (as a teacher, not a student, though I did love being a student). I started it off with a-whole-lotta Pinterest. Just thought I'd briefly share the results:

Crock Pot Fiesta Chicken - This was so simple, as most crock pot recipes tend to be. It was a keeper for sure. I should mention that I used brown rice instead of white. In the future, I might substitute black beans for pinto beans (personal preference) or a combination of both. The corn made it for me. It added the perfect crunch. I also used chicken tenderloins instead of chicken breasts. I would also add something to give it a kick. Maybe using hot salsa would do the trick. Not sure. But even though we liked it as is, we thought it might be better with a little extra umph.

Strawberry Cream Cheese Bread - DELICIOUS! I made it exactly as is, and I don't think I'd change anything other than letting it have time to cool before I jump in. Well, now that I think about it, I might use refrigerated strawberries in the light syrup just to give it a bit more berry flavor, and this would also be a good idea for when strawberries aren't in season. I also might sprinkle sugar on the top before I bake it. I just like a little crunch to it. So maybe I would change something, but the bread is still good just the way the recipe is.

Amish Cinnamon Bread - This bread was worth making just for the smell that radiates from the oven as it bakes. MOUTH-WATERING! The combination of sugar and cinnamon has always been a weakness of mine, something I rightly blame on my cinnamon toast diet as a child. This recipe was very easy. One change I made was to add a cap full of vanilla BECAUSE WHY WOULDN'T I? I can't help taking a whiff of that stuff whenever I open the bottle. In the future, and there will be a future for this bread in the Mitchell household, I will add two cap fulls of vanilla. I didn't taste enough of the flavor this time around. 

So. That's that. If anyone else has any Pinterest recipes successes (or failures), please feel free to pass them along!

Living at its finest

The following event occurred a little over a week ago, and I've pondered on this incident every day since. Actually, the entire concept is something I've pondered on awhile, but after my little trip to Holly's gas station in Not-Even-On-The-Map, Alabama, I've wanted to share it with all three of my non-family readers.

My family went to one of my dad's client's land to pick blackberries Saturday morning. Near the end of our little adventure, I volunteered to drive up to the local gas station to buy us some cold drinks. (Ok, I'll be honest, my bladder had other intentions of my side trip.) My entire experience, which lasted maybe five minutes, will stay with me for a long time. 

I parked the car near the front door. As I approached, an older man was exiting, and, like a true gentleman, stood a moment longer to hold the door for me. I thanked him enthusiastically (I always make a point to put a little spirit in my voice when I do in hopes the person providing the service really knows I appreciate it). He simply replied, "Yes ma'am," and tipped his head in my direction. He went his way, I went my way. After providing my bladder with much-needed relief, I perused the wall of refrigerated drinks to find exactly what each member of my family wanted. While looking through one particular door, another man stepped beside me and joined in. He asked, "Do you mind if I get one?" I answered, "Of course not! Go ahead!" Again, with enthusiasm. I appreciated him asking before he stepped right in front of me, blocking my view. It was a very simple gesture, but it reflected his good manners, and I certainly noticed. After he left, I grabbed all the drinks we needed and walked to the counter. Here, I was met with more kindness. The cashier said to me as I placed everything on the counter, "You did some things right and some things wrong." I asked what he meant, thinking he was referring to my Bama shirt and Georgia hat (thanks Eric), but he said he'd tell me in a minute. I should mention that before that, he wished me a good morning through a wide smile. He rang up four of the six drinks, leaving the blue Powerade and purple Gatorade last. 

On a side note, does anyone ever identify Powerades or Gatorades by their actual flavor? I thought not.

He told me that I was right in getting the Powerade because they were on sale, but I was wrong because the Gatorade was not. I informed him that my husband preferred Gatorade, and my brother preferred Powerade. He asked if I was sure, and I replied yes. It was simple, but I greatly appreciated his attempt to save me 50 cents instead of just ringing it up. By the time I walked out of the door of Holly's, I felt profoundly different. Inside that station, there were people of different races, different socioeconomic status, and different ages. But one thing was common among all of us - We knew how to respect each other. We were polite to each other. We all seemed to understand that we were human beings with our own stories, our own backgrounds, and maybe that day could be a little easier if we just showed a little bit of kindness. Every act was simple, nothing that drew attention to the respective individuals, and certainly nothing I'm sure they thought would have such an effect on me. But it did. 

I know I'm not perfect, but I always, always, always try to be kind and respectful of everyone I meet. I smile at strangers, I hold doors open for others, I say thank you and please, I say ma'am and sir no matter their age. Sure, it means that I will probably get taken advantage of. I know how true the saying "nice guys finish last" really is, but I wouldn't want to be any other way. 

I vowed to myself when I left Holly's that I would try harder to be that source of inspiration someone else might need on another day in another situation. 

As I left Holly's, I thought that this was living at its finest. Not with money or fancy cars or having the latest tech gadgets. It's just one person being nice to another person. 

Four

No, this isn't some post about the dreamy love interest in Divergent. Though, the book has been on my mind a lot, even though I read it over a year ago, so I might write something about it later. 

I titled this "Four" because that's how many years I've been married as of today.

Four years??? Sheesh. Wasn't I just going on my first date yesterday?

I know four years isn't really long (except by Hollywood standards), but at the same time, my mind is having a hard time wrapping around the fact that Eric and I promised to spend eternity with each other 1461 days ago. It's just that I remember that day so vividly that it could have been just last week! And yet, it's hard to remember a time in my life that Eric wasn't there. It seems we've always had each other.

Anyway, I decided to recap the last four years of bliss - where we started, what we've been doing, and where we are now.

YEAR 1

Eric and I got hitched May 22, 2009, the same year we both graduated college from Brigham Young University - Idaho. I used to have people ask me why I didn't go to BYU in Utah since I was accepted there as well. The answer may seem weak to you, and maybe it even did to me at the time, but it's very simple: I felt that I should. Lo and behold, in my senior year, who comes bouncing into my life? Several awesome roommates I still love to this day! And, of course, my sweet, sweet Eric. After marrying, we moved to Ringgold, Georgia, for a couple of months until we found employment, which took us back to my hometown in Montgomery, Alabama. 

YEAR 2

Eric has opened so many new doors for me since we got married. I've tried so many new things I never thought I'd do because of him! Like, say, running a half marathon. I know, right? A NeSmith, running an actual race? Don't hide in your bomb shelters. The end of the world isn't nigh quite yet. Technically, the half happened right at the end of year 1 (Mar 2010), but I'll loop it into year 2. I also finished writing my first novel with Eric's sister and another by myself several months later. HUGE milestone for me! I've since completed The Acquisition, currently on sale, which would make an excellent read for anyone wanting to celebrate mine and Eric's anniversary. This year also brought some disappointment. Eric wasn't accepted into PT school, for reasons we could never figure out, and we found out having children wasn't going to come easily for us (but that's another long, long, personal story). Since PT school never worked out, we stayed in Montgomery.

YEAR 3

Nothing too monumental happened during our third year (until the end). I continued working as a math teacher at one of the magnet middle schools in town. Eric continued working at a PT clinic. We still weren't blessed with any children. In fact, that whole process was very time-demanding and, oh, the emotions involved! I pray no one ever has to go through infertility treatments. Thinking our life was meant to be in Montgomery, we started looking to buy a house. Eric was promoted at work and was making more money, I still had a solid job with great benefits, so we felt comfortable settling down. We even found a really cute 3 bed/2 bath home that had me drooling! Days away from deciding to go for it, a major light appeared at the end of the tunnel. Days before our third anniversary, we learned that Eric's dream was finally going to come true! He was accepted into PT school, and we were moving to Florida.

YEAR 4

Florida is hot, humid, and wet. And lots and lots of bugs. A plethora of lizards. And home to the biggest dragonflies I've ever seen. Yet, the beach is 30-45 minutes from our home, I've met some wonderful people, and I've found even more time to write! This move has been very emotional and hard and wonderful and every other emotion you can think of, but it's all been worth it. We even survived a Georgia/Alabama football game, which, let me tell you, was NOT fun! Recently, Eric just completed his first year as a PT student (which means I only have to work for 3 more!), we have wonderful doctors who are helping us become parents, and most importantly, moving away from our families to such a foreign place has brought us so much closer. I love this man dearly, and I can't wait to see what year 5 (and forever) has in store for us!

Ok, I just threw this one in because it makes me laugh every time I see it. 

Throwback Thursday

I've been thinking a lot about my childhood lately. Maybe it's the homesickness, the longing to be surrounded by people and places I love, or maybe it's the fact that I can now say I have clear memories from twenty years ago.

TWENTY YEARS AGO.

Only adults can say that. But wait! I am an adult. And sometimes, I wonder how that happened. I swear it was just yesterday that I was getting my license and taking to the road all by myself. And by yesterday, I guess I mean ten years ago. I mean, I know twenty-six isn't old by any stretch of the imagination. I certainly don't feel old. In fact, I still feel like a twitterpated seventeen-year-old. 

Thus, I decided to dedicate Thursday as my Throwback day. Remember the good times. To kickstart this endeavor, I present to you one of my all-time favorite shows as a kid. Ladies and gentlemen, Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego?

Remember this show? I adored it. But I there was some serious anger coursing through me when the final map wasn't the United States. How the heck was an eight-year-old girl supposed to know the countries in the Middle East? Even still, this was a personal favorite. 

What TV shows do you remember from your childhood?