Category: Choosing Brave

::THESE WOMEN::

There is something so beautiful about the unconditional love that comes from true friends. Not bound to loving you by blood or by law, the love of a friend is something chosen freely, over and over again, through the good and the bad. I think that kind of friendship is rare. I’m blessed to know it and claim it as mine.

I got to spend the weekend with some of my oldest friends, women I have grown up with. We talked and we laughed. We played in the snow, fell into fits of laughter from a ridiculous game of charades, drank good wine and ate good food. Free of the all the responsibilities we carry at home (kids and husbands and jobs and…), we relaxed more deeply than we had in a long time. This weekend we were able to just be. And I was reminded of how insanely important this kind of time is. Not just because we all need a break- we most certainly do- but because drinking deep from the well of true friendship is essential for my soul.

These women, these are people who know me in a way that no one else on earth knows me. Women who have seen me grow and struggle and succeed. They’ve walked with me as I’ve made every decision of my life since I was…14… when I am in a season of struggling to remember who I am at my core, these are the women who can remind me, my compass on a dark night.

I remember moving away from them for the first time. We all went to middle school together and by the time we graduated high school we knew we would be forever friends. I went to college with 3 of my best friends and most of us ended up back in our hometown after college. So, by the time my new husband and I moved to Seattle to start our marriage in an unfamiliar city, I had been living in the same place as at least 3 of these friends for over 10 years. I didn’t know life without them.  I found myself in that rainy, Emerald city…completely lost, unable to find myself in this new life. My friends had been the mirrors reflecting my best self back to me for almost half my life. Without them, I couldn’t see my reflection.

Of course, there was a lot of necessary growth that came from being apart from my people. Being able to hold the mirror up for myself is one of the most important skills I’ve learned as an adult. But, what I also learned in those early years of being a coach’s wife and living away from my people, was how much I deeply needed these women. Our friendship was more than girl talk and fun (mostly boozy) adventures. These friendships were deeply woven into the foundation of my life and who I had become.

These are the women who can read my heart and speak the words for me when I can’t quite form them. These are the women who know exactly what hard questions to ask to help me find clarity when I can’t see through the fog. These are the women who remember small details of my past that I can’t locate- even the ridiculous ones, like how I would always eat tuna sandwiches at lunch in high school. I have no idea why they remember that, but I love that they do. These are the women who hold my hand and sit beside me in silence, when words just don’t feel right. These are the women who bring out the silly, crazy, lighthearted me that struggles to show up most days under the weight of adulthood. These are the women who challenge me to be better, not because they think I’m failing, but because they see the potential in me that I haven’t seen yet.

Our lives are busier than ever these days. We still don’t all live in the same town – in fact, a friend’s upcoming move to Arizona is the reason we moved mountains to make this weekend happen. I wish we could do this more, but I know for certain the last 3 days have filled my cup reminding me once again how insanely grateful I am that God gave me this tribe of strong, beautiful women who love me just as I am.

Sitting at the airport waiting for my delayed flight home, I opened my laptop to start writing because a knew I needed to capture these feelings before they were swept up and lost in the week ahead. I committed to putting my friendships on the top of my priority list. It’s easy to let them slip down to the bottom when things like work and family consume so much of my energy. But I am a better mom, a better wife, a better employee- frankly, a better human- when I connect with to these women. Our friendship is a vital piece of a healthy, happy Nicole.

What are some ways that you find time to connect with your tribe in the midst of your busy life? Share in the comments below!

XO, Nicole

Coping with Infertility During the Holidays

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surviving infertility during the holidays

Lately, I have this odd inner rebel thing that happens on holidays. Everyone posts their obligatory  “Happy (insert holiday)” pic on social media and I’m like “nope, I’m not gonna do it”…I generally end up doing it anyway (because I have a damn cute family – hello!?), but that rebel is silently shaking her head at me. I haven’t  really understood where it came from, but it hit me today…it’s the pregnancy announcements. The holidays naturally lend themselves to be a great time for pregnancy announcements. Families are together and the cutesy phrases are endless and adorable. “Can’t wait to welcome our little turkey”, bellies wrapped in bows, and ultrasound pics fill my feed…

It hit me today, as I was watching my not-so-little man drift off to sleep, that it’s quite likely we would have made a similar pregnancy announcement this holiday season had our little embryo snuggled in tighter. But he didn’t and we aren’t. So my inner rebel, or maybe really it’s my broken heart, is boycotting the cute holiday instagram feeds because inevitably I’m going to see all the pregnancy announcements and inevitably it’s going to hurt. coping with infertility during the holidays

The holidays are rough when you’re on an infertility journey. Being surrounded by family is at the same time comforting and a painful reminder of what you’re trying to create that just isn’t happening for you. Without fail, someone is going to ask me when I’m going to have another baby, launching into a monologue about how you don’t want to wait too long or the kids won’t have a close relationship and you don’t want to be changing diapers forever… and don’t forget, you’re getting older! There will always be the cousin who got pregnant on accident, the aunt who feels comfortable telling what you really need to do to get pregnant, the uncle who makes a tone-deaf joke about your husband’s manhood, the long lost friend from high school who, after too many glasses of pinot, asks all the inappropriate questions …maybe it isn’t these specific examples, but you get the idea… the holidays are an infertility minefield.

I’m sorry to say, my fellow infertility warriors, but it’s pretty unavoidable. So, how do we survive the holidays…or even more importantly, enjoy the holidays… as we navigate the minefield?

tips for surviving the holidays with infertility

Here are some of the tips I’ve been working on. I’d love to know your holiday survival tips too!

  1. Take care of yourself first. There is no way that you can respond well to Aunt Ida’s probing questions if you are tired, stressed and overwhelmed. What is in your toolbox? What are you go-to things that help recharge you? Know them. Do them. Often. For me, I know I’m better with a good night sleep, some exercise and time spent focused on what I’m grateful for.
  2. Know how you are going to respond. For the most part, we can anticipate the kind of questions or comments that are coming. It’s so helpful to plan and visualize what you want to say and how you want to respond. Have a one-liner ready for when people start asking. It’s the hardest when we aren’t prepared to respond; we tend to respond out of our emotional rawness. I think it is 100% okay to respond with tears, or to express to that their words, though likely unintentional, were hurtful. But, when we find ourselves out of control of our emotions that is when things can spiral and head in a direction we don’t want to go. Similarly, know how you are going to respond internally. You might be able to brush off your cousins questions and change the subject, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t spinning on the inside as she blabbers on about her annoying coworkers. Find a word, phrase, mantra or prayer that will center you, comfort you and allow you to let go of the inner emotional storm. Repeat until you can breathe a little easier.
  3. Identify your safe spaces. Where are you going to go if you need to take a break, if you need to cry, or punch a pillow? Who are the people who you can talk to? Your spouse is a good one to start with, but they could be dealing with their own struggles, naturally. So who else can be your “person”? Know who you feel comfortable asking to hang with you for a minute. Maybe that person can play defense for you too if they see an awkward situation unfolding. Let ‘em know you need their help- heck, make up a code word that lets them know you need to get OUTTA HERE NOW!
  4. Focus on the parts you love. If there is anything I’ve learned it’s that we HAVE to find joy in the waiting, in the pain, in the fear and doubt… it’s the only way. So, what do you LOVE about the holidays? Do you love baking with grandma? Card games with your cousins? Long afternoon walks admiring the gorgeous fall leaves? Do you love visiting the houses that go all-out with Christmas lights? Or snuggling up by a fire with a good book? Fill your schedule with the things you love about the holidays and try to just get lost in them. Be in the moment as much a possible. When that wave of sadness arrives, let it wash in and wash out. Acknowledge it and then turn your attention back to the beautiful moment that is right in front of you. tips for surviving the holidays with infertility
  5. Give yourself grace. Like heaps and heaps of grace. It’s okay to not be okay. It’s okay to feel sad, and to cry and to think that your cousin’s pregnant wife was a total jerk for complaining about feeling fat- you’d give anything to feel “fat”. It’s okay if you need to skip your neighbors holiday party because what really feels good for your soul tonight is snuggling up with your hubby and watching Love Actually. It’s okay to put your needs first, to take care of your heart instead of worrying about offending someone else. Grace, my friend, lots and lots of grace.

 

How do you find joy during the holidays while walking with infertility? Let me know in the comments.

** for the record, not all of these examples have happened to me in this exact way, or on this particular holiday. It’s a combination of my stories and my fellow ttc community’s stories

{Three Years With You}

The moment they put you in my arms for the first time was hands down the best moment of my life. It’s a memory that will forever be etched in my mind- the weight of you, the smell of you, the peace and love that filled my soul. Pure magic.

Three years with you, my boy. You’ve been with us now for the same amount of time we struggled to have you, wondering if you ever would be. Looking back I can see so clearly how each piece of the journey was preparing me to be your mama.

You do things your own way, on your own time. Just like when you took your time snuggling in as an embryo, leaving us waiting with baited breath. Teaching us to rely on God for patience.

Or how you insisted on snubbing all of your mama’s birth plans, refusing to flip head down no matter what I tried- forcing a c-section when all I wanted was a “natural” birth. It was as if you were warning me for what was to come: “don’t make too many plans, mom. None of this is going to go the way you thought it would, I’m gonna do it my way.” Oh, my independent little boy. I can’t help but laugh because really, with us as your parents how could I expect anything different.

You have made me a fighter. Your very existence is proof that deep inside me is the heart of a warrior. I fought to have you, fought to breastfeed you when many told me to just let it go, fought through postpartum anxiety to make sure I am the best mom I can be for you. I will never stop fighting for you, my love. Never. You’ve made me a mama bear, fierce.

I put you to sleep last night explaining that magic will come to you in the night and when you wake up you will be THREE. But the truth is, the magic didn’t appear last night. The magic started the day you were created and was with you every single day since. There was magic in each new word, each new step, each belly laugh, each “I miss you, mama”. Watching you grow is magic. You are magic, my son.

Each year your birthday is equal parts heartbreak and joy. Sad to leave behind another year knowing I will never again have two-year old you, but so very proud of the boy you are becoming and joyful that I have a future with you in it.

You correct me now, each time I call you “baby” – “no, mommy, I’m a big boy”. But you will always be my baby, my love. Always.

Happy Birthday, sweet boy. May this year bring more magic than the last.

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::The Magic of Sharing::

brene brown courage owning your storySharing is hard. There isn’t a single day that goes by that I don’t second guess my choice to start this blog and be so open on social media and in my personal life about our infertility journey. It’s vulnerable. Imposter syndrome runs wild- Who am I to think anyone wants to hear what I have to say? Who am I to think what I share could help people? Who am I?

But this week hammered home the truth.

On Monday night I posted on Instagram about some of my feelings on Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. I couldn’t even believe what I saw when I opened my Insta the next morning. I had 300+ likes, a ton of heartfelt comments and a full inbox of messages. That only increased over the rest of the day. Every time I opened Insta I had dozens of notifications. Even my girl boss hero, THE Rachel Hollis had liked my post- what the what?! It’s not about the likes, that’s not why I’m on social media. But the response and the messages were proof that my story resonated. It touched people on some level. People were thanking me for sharing and telling me their own stories in return. I’m not sure if there is a more precious gift than someone sharing their heart with you. I’m humbled. And in turn, their stories and their kind words healed my heart just a little more.

But God wasn’t done making his point.

Today was Mass day at my Catholic school and the theme was “Speak Life” in honor of the Catholic “Respect Life Month”. Of course the topic of babies came up. Of course it hurt.

Remember that colleague who stopped me in the hall, pressing me on when I was going to give Little Man a sibling?…well that day in the hallway, instead of just brushing her off and saying “oh, someday,” I told her. I told her about IVF and I told her we had just lost one. The conversation was brief, and though she was kind I walked away wondering if I had said too much. I felt a little raw. Well, today at Mass she made it a point to come hug me during the Sign of Peace and tell me she has been praying for a baby for me. Cue the tears. If I had chosen to put my walls up and not tell her my story in the hallway that day, I’d be missing out on a prayer warrior in my corner. I had no idea that she has been praying for me all this time. What a blessing.

The Mass continued and at the very end they played a little video of two young children being told by their mom that “there is a baby in Mommy’s belly”. It was adorable. And it totally sucked. I took a deep breath to contain my emotions and as I looked up, another colleague was looking over at me, blowing me a kiss because she knew. She knew that that video, that this Mass, was hard and that it hurt.  She knew because she has seen my blog and my social media and we’ve talked about our shared experiences. To seal the deal she ran over to give me a hug before Mass ended. In an instant I went from silently shouldering my hurt alone, to being held, comforted and seen.

Sharing my life with others is worth it. Sharing builds community. Sharing helps others feel less alone, understood, in it together. Sharing allows the people in my life to show up for me and it opens up the space in my heart to receive the kind of love and support I need. Sharing helps me own my story and my life and gives me courage to show up as my authentic self. I’m sure I will still have moments of doubt on this journey. Times when I wonder if I’m just speaking into the black void of internet-land. Times when I worry that people are really just laughing at me, or rolling their eyes thinking “who does this chick think she is?” Maybe I will even be burned a time or two for being vulnerable. But I’m going to remember this week.

I started Brave Beauty Mama because God was YANKING (not just tugging) on my heart and this week He reaffirmed that I am on the right path. It might be super foggy up ahead of me, but I’m going to keep trusting this path that He has put me on.

Thank you for being a part of my community. For lifting me up and for trusting me with your stories too. What a beautiful thing to be connected to one another.

 

XO, Nicole

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day

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I didn’t expect the tears today. I knew it was infant loss awareness day. I knew I’d want to say something about it. Light a candle. Say a prayer. But I didn’t think it would hit so hard. I’m not someone who really gets caught up in themed days. ⠀

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If I’m super honest there is a part of me that doesn’t feel like we fully belong to this group of grieving parents. Our sweet embryo baby only made his home on my womb for a few short days. He tried. A chemical pregnancy is what the doctor called it. ⠀

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But I have friends who have lost babies at 10 weeks. At 22 weeks. At birth. After… ⠀

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So much of me feels like our loss just doesn’t touch that kind of loss. And in a way I still think that’s true. ⠀

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But then I saw this image. And then the tears. Because no matter how short lived. No matter how teeny tiny that baby boy was, he still WAS. He existed. He was loved and wanted and he is no longer here. I haven’t cried for our loss in a while. I’ve been focusing on positive things and gratitude, but I’m gonna cry tonight and that’s okay. ⠀

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I’m crying tears for you too, mama. I am 1 in 4. ⠀

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My Natural Medicine Cabinet :: what I use to keep us healthy

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DISCLAIMER: I am not a doctor or medical professional.
Everything written here is my opinion based on my own
research and experience. Please talk to your doctor and do
your own research.

Ahhhh cold and flu season is upon us again. As a working mom, just the thought of it ties a huge knot in my stomach. My first fall back to work with Little Man in daycare was a special kind of crazy. I can’t tell you how many meetings and workshops I had to cancel to stay home with my sick kiddo. The fall is my busiest time at work {college application season} so the lack of my presence is felt and it made me feel awful. By the end of the year I was clean out of sick AND vacation time and had to take unpaid days- which meant even less money in my already small paycheck. The feeling of being torn between taking care of my most precious gift and being present for work is maddening. Countless times I called my husband exclaiming “I quit! There is no way for me to work and be a good mom; I’m done!” Well, clearly I am still working and while the struggle is real, I do believe you CAN be a good mom and have a career.

All this to say, it is my mission this fall to take as few sick days as possible. So, I’ve been stocking my medicine cabinet with my natural essentials to get us through the season. I’m not anti-medicine, but I always prefer to reach for a natural remedy before I reach for over-the-counter medications. I believe that prevention is a way better strategy than treating symptoms once they arrive. Plus, the ingredients in most OTC medications are kind of atrocious and it feels like study after study is revealing that OTC meds are overused and not as safe as we’ve been lead to believe.

Let me give you the rundown of my “medicine cabinet”

First and foremost– a healthy diet, regular exercise and plenty of water is the baseline for your health. When the hubs and I started to focus on those three things we saw a huge decrease in how frequently we got sick. No amount of elderberry syrup can combat a diet riddled with fast food and sugar. Which brings me to..

Elderberry Syrup– this immunity booster is having a moment for sure. Studies like this one  suggest it has powerful protective effects against the cold and flu viruses. The elderberry syrup I use is semi-homemade 🙂 I buy a premade kit from Mama Mac’s Crunchy Kits on Facebook. You can find many similar ones on your local crunchy Facebook groups or Etsy or you can make it from scratch using a recipe like this one from Wellness Mama . I cook it up when we need it and keep it in the fridge. It lasts a long time. We all take it daily and we up the frequency when it feels like we are fighting something or when we know the flu is going around. It tastes yummy and Little Man never fights me on it. You can also buy some from the store, but I haven’t liked those ones as much.

yumm smells so good

 

 

 

 

Bee Propolis  – I just discovered this amazing product from Beekeeper’s Naturals and I’m loving it! Propolis is  a protective substance bees make to protect their hive walls. It basically acts like the immune system for the hive. How cool is that!? It contains over 300 powerful natural compounds known for to supporting immunity. I bought the BeeKeepers Natural throat spray a few weeks ago and it’s been amazing. Little Man and I have both been fighting a cold…it’s there, but so far we aren’t sick enough for it to slow us down. A few sprays every day is helping to sooth our throats and we have not gotten full blown sick! I’m a believer.

Probiotics– Our gut is where so much of our health and immunity begins. A good probiotic is a basic in my house. I use Plexus VitalBiome, but there are so many good ones on the market. Little Man takes the Plexus XFactor Kids multivitamin that has probiotics in it.

Apple Cider Vinegar– the hubs swears by Apple Cider Vinegar for all the things. I’ll be honest, I don’t take it regularly. But he takes a “shot” every morning and there is good reason to think its preventing him from getting sick since the man is never sick and he doesn’t really follow the rest of my “natural remedies”. He uses Bragg’s Apple Cider Vinegar Cleanse and it definitely goes down easier than pure ACV.

Essential oils– If you haven’t discovered the power of essential oils yet, you need to! I’ve basically replaced all the medicine I used to use with EO’s. I use DoTerra, mostly because that is what I was introduced to first and I trust that they are pure. It is super important to learn about using these powerful oils. They are incredible, but not always safe for use with kids, animals or various medical conditions. My favorite oils for immunity and illness are:

  • DoTerra Onguard products- this is the immunity blend and they have several products with it. I dilute it in a roller ball and rub on Austin’s feet and back daily. I will diffuse it all through the house to kill germs and boost our immunity. I also will take the internal capsules for myself a few times a week. I love the spray hand sanitizer too.
  • DoTerra Oregano- this is a hot oil and I would NOT use it on kids. If I know I am about to get sick, I will put one drop of this oil in a glass of water and chug- trying to not get any of it on my lips because it does burn a bit. But seriously, if I do this, the next day I feel great. I wouldn’t do it daily, but it’s a great pinch hitter for me.
  • DoTerra Breathe – Stuffy nose and coughs are no match for this oil! Think a natural version of Vicks Vaporub. I will dilute this one in my Beautycounter Soothing Baby Oil or Baby Balm and rub on the chest of whoever is sick. You can diffuse it while you sleep to help open your airways too. Instant relief.
  • DoTerra DigestZen- DigestZen helps all my tummy aches. I just dilute and rub it on my belly or my kiddo’s belly and within about 30 minutes things are feeling better.

Mullein Garlic Oil  – I get the craziest looks from my friends when I talk about this one, but seriously, Little Man hasn’t had an ear infection since I started using this (and he had a lot in his first year of life).I will do maintenance drops in both ears for prevention every few weeks. When cold and flu season hits I typically do it once a week. If I notice a stuffy nose or cough I’ll do it once a day. It treats infections that already exist too, but we haven’t used it like that since he hasn’t gotten any since using it. Warning: your kiddo will smell like garlic.

Detox baths– Once a week Little Man takes a detox bath and when I feel like he’s fighting something I will do it a few times a week. It’s just a mix of ½ cup epsom salts and 2 tablespoons baking soda dissolved in a hot bath (be sure they stay in there for 15-20 minutes to get the full benefits). Epsom salts contain magnesium sulfate which is a powerful detoxification mineral. It helps draw out and remove impurities in our bodies and also allows us to absorb the magnesium which supports so many of our bodily functions. The baking soda also promotes detoxification and helps balance the body’s pH.These baths also promote relaxation. Sometimes I’ll add a few drops of DoTerra’s Serenity blend essential oil to promote extra relaxation, too. You can double the recipe for a relaxing detox bath of your own. We sleep great after a detox bath!

One last thing…I know the fevers can be scary and there is definitely a point where they need to be reduced, but in general people are really quick to give a fever reducer like Tylenol when our kiddos have a fever. The thing is, fevers are our body’s natural way of fighting infection, If we don’t let the fever do it’s thaaaang then we often are prolonging the illness in our bodies. When Little Man is sick a really focus on letting the fever run its course and not medicating. I talked to his doctor about it and of course you should too, but there is value in a fever even though they are no fun, so don’t just jump to getting rid of it.

There you have it, my arsenal of natural remedies and immunity boosters.

What have you tried to naturally fight cold and flu season? 

Comment and let me know!

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Sand Paper Hands

{may 2016 :: baby hands}

I’m not sure when it happened. It feels like just overnight. But my little baby’s hands…they have lost their baby soft touch. No longer are his palms puffy and smooth. He holds my hand now and his palms feel rough…more like his dad’s. The palms of a boy whose been hard at work all day; busy discovering, making, doing. He’s a little boy now… my baby fading into a sweet sweet memory.

I wonder to myself as I snuggle him to sleep tonight, would I have noticed? If we hadn’t faced infertility, if I hadn’t gone through the years of trying and the pain of “what if I never get to be a mom”…would I still notice little things like that?

There’s no doubt that my experience colors my perspective on life, and more so, on motherhood. The mom I am today is 100% influenced by the path I took to get here.

Would I still be laying here snuggling him to sleep for much longer than I really have time for and feeling mostly gratitude? Would I still breath him in deep and kiss his forehead and whisper all the things I love about him, instead of worrying about the things I could be, should be doing around the house? Would I have fought through the impatience and the frustration to stay present with my child and savor this moment, if I had never worried that I wouldn’t have the chance to do it at all?

{first family portrait}

Would I have teared up earlier today, heart about to burst, when he beamed as he held out his first family portrait for me to see? His excitement as he showed me which scribbles were Mommy and Daddy and Sadie ripped my heart into pieces, happy happy pieces. I’m so acutely aware that this simple moment wasn’t promised to me, almost wasn’t mine.

I do know that the worrier in me is amplified by infertility. I see it in my need to triple check that his car seat is tightened correctly before every single car ride. I know it drives my husband nuts that I will recheck his work, making certain he did it correctly too.

The anxiety I feel every night now that he sleeps in his own room…triple check the locks…is the alarm turned on? Did I close every window, every door and the gate to the hallway? Monitor on? Check… And the several times a night I wake and zoom in on the video monitor, just to make sure I see the soft rise and fall of his chest… I’m pretty sure that is the infertility speaking.

I can see it in other peoples eyes, when my son is running a little too fast towards the street and though he’s still far from danger, there is a shrill in my voice that’s a bit unnecessary, a panic that I just can’t control… they must be thinking “geez, this mom’s is a tad overbearing”.  I know. I know it’s unnecessary, I know he’s like 50 feet from the road and I can calm down. But what you don’t know, judgy mom from the park, is how hard I fought for this little boy. Protecting him feels just a bit scarier, heavier than I imagined it would.

I’m pretty sure I can blame infertility for the tears I cried the other night, beating myself up for making him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner, when I knew he hadn’t touched a vegetable all day. See, when you fear you might be childless, you start to make promises to God… “God, if you give me a child I swear I will be the best-mom-ever-on-the-face-of-the-earth” …and that mom would obviously feed her child the most nutritious food…hello!

*sigh* infertility has also taught me to give myself grace, because Lord knows that PB&J is a childhood staple and there is nothing wrong with serving it for dinner. That “best-mom-ever-on-the-face-of-the-earth” stuff has gotta go.

I really do believe I’m a better mom because of my struggles. Not a better mom than someone else, but a better mom than I would have been. Pre-infertility me was pretty selfish, and kinda lazy. My biggest concern about being a mom back then was losing my precious sleep, because I looooved to sleep in (I mean really, ask anyone). I still catch myself feeling surprised when my son wakes me up early on a Saturday morning and my first response is a smile. No one ever got a smile from me first thing in the morning before infertility.

I’ll never know for sure if the reason I can (usually) have eons of patience with my son or the reason I light up every time I see him is just because I’m a mom, or if it’s because I’m an IVF mom, but either way, I’m grateful. I’m grateful that my heart is full simply by seeing his grubby face after a day at work. I’m grateful that I have found value in living in the moment because I don’t want to miss a single thing. I’m grateful that being his mom has pushed be to become a better human than I was before.  

I do know for certain that infertility has helped me see God’s gifts in everything. That our struggle to have a baby taught me how to find gratitude in all things, at all times. Infertility has shown me that I am made for more, and given me the drive and strength to pursue that version of myself, the one God made me to be.

I might not be the best-mom-ever-on-the-face-of-the-earth, but I’m on my way to being the best mom for MY child, the mom that God created me to be. Isn’t that what matters most?

I have gut feeling that pre-infertility me would have missed the point in many ways. She would have gotten bogged down in the day to day, easily dismissed a moment to connect when there was something that felt more pressing to do. I know she would have been a good mom, but I think she’d have a harder time seeing the bigger picture, seeing the blessing that she had in her hands. She just wouldn’t have known. I don’t know for sure, and I am certainly not talking about other moms. I’m not trying to say that infertility moms are better moms…not in the slightest. What I am saying, is that I am a better mom and and better person for the battle we face. That’s my journey.  

I’ll try not to cry tonight when Austin’s newly sand-papered palms reach for my cheek in his sleep. Watching him grow is as much heart breaking as it is the joy of my life. Maybe these tears are also because of infertility. Because the last three years have gone so fast and while I believe I’ll get to see another child through these early years, I know that isn’t guaranteed. I’d like to pause time for a bit, find a way to carve these small moments into my memory so they can never fade, never be forgotten. Sometimes I’m filled with panic about the swift passing of time, grasping at anything to slow it down. Motherhood sure does a number on your heart.

If you’re a mom, squeeze those babies tight tonight and take a minute to remind yourself how precious that gift is. Then give yourself some grace – you’re doing great!  If you’re not a mom yet, if you’re in the trenches of infertility, trust that God is using this time to shape you into the mom He created you to be for the child He’s got waiting for you. And give yourself loads of grace too!

Sending all the moms and moms-in-waiting love tonight. We’ve got the hardest and best job in the whole wide world.

XO, Nicole

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Comparison is the Thief of Joy :: Friendships & Infertility

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I have a superpower. I can predict when my friends are pregnant before they tell me. I just have a sense, and no joke, about 2 weeks later, I always get the call. I think God gave me this superpower as a way to protect me and help me be a better friend. See, I get to process ahead of time the idea that my friends are pregnant and I {save for the 9 months that I was} am not and will struggle to get pregnant every time I want to. So, by the time they actually tell me, I can be present for that conversation. I can give them the response they deserve, my joy. I can save the tears for later so they don’t have to be burdened in their time of happiness.  I’m not always great at that part, despite my superpower, but I can certainly respond better than if I hadn’t been predicting it when they told me.

But you know what is really interesting, during that time before they tell me, I often fear that they won’t tell me because they are afraid to upset me, knowing what I am going through.  I have vivid dreams of running into them at the grocery store, their belly clearly pregnant, and despite having spoken recently, they hadn’t told me. It’s almost a worse feeling than that of them being pregnant when I am not.

What would it say about me if the people I love don’t think I can handle hearing their joy in the midst of my pain? I want to be someone who can love my friends exactly where they are at, no matter where I am at.

Because here’s the thing, it always stings. It doesn’t matter if they get pregnant in the thick of my struggle or while I’m pregnant and in the height of joy. I literally was holding my newborn in my arms when I found out a friend was pregnant and even then, even when I had my miracle baby safe in my arms, it stung. Infertility never stops hurting. One of my older friends is 25 years removed from her fertility struggles and she told me it still stings when she hears of people getting pregnant. It’s not logical anymore, but it’s real. The sense of being an outsider, of missing out on one of life’s most anticipated, longed for experiences in its fullness; I don’t think that ever goes away.

It shows up all the time- when hearing a birth story, at a kids birthday party, in a memory of a time we were all together, but I was still not pregnant, in a passing complaint about how hard pregnancy is, or how hard motherhood is, or how “oops she’s pregnant again”.  It will show up on a random Tuesday in the hallway at work when a well meaning colleague presses you about when you’re going to give your son a sibling- time is ticking you know. The sting feels the same whether it’s a stranger or my closest friend. The mom at the park who’s pregnant with her 4th, all the kids are less than 2 year apart and she looks…tired…ya, that hurts too.

It is always going to sting; I have a choice in how I deal with it. It doesn’t feel good to wallow in “Why them? Why not me?” It feels better to celebrate with them. It’s okay to cry about it. It’s okay to feel the sting, to acknowledge the pain and the unfairness of it all. But really, what good does it do me to take away from them the joy that I wish was mine? None. It does me no good. In fact, it only makes things worse.

And the truth of it is, every single one of them has their own pain. Things I wouldn’t wish upon them in a million years. Things I am grateful I haven’t had to walk. Things I’m not sure I would be able to cope with as insanely strong as they have. So feeling jealous, feeling sad, feeling angry…that is normal and has its place, but I could flip that around and they could have felt that way about my joys, too. We all have our stories. They become more bearable, and perhaps more meaningful, when we can walk alongside each other through the good and the bad, the highs and the lows. Being strong when they are weak, letting them be strong for me, when I am weak. I’m lucky to have found friends like that.

Comparison is the thief of joy. The truth of that couldn’t be clearer than when you are walking with infertility. But if I focused on comparing my path to being a mama with everyone else’s, I would miss….everything. I would put distance between us at a time when I need their companionship the most. I would miss out on the depth and richness of friendships that I treasure. I would live my life with everyone at arm’s distance, suspended between the need for connection and the wall of my pain. That’s no way to live. I choose to be present in my relationships. I choose to be vulnerable. I choose to be brave.

{THIS TIME}

 

I had a “voice of God” moment last week. I was cleaning my office desk and glanced at the cork board hanging above. Pinned there is the picture of our embryo, the one that won’t ever become the baby we asked for.

“I gave you this time for a reason”

I heard it loud and clear (in my head of course). I knew instantly it was a message from above. I am grateful to have heard His voice like this before and could recognize it. I stopped in my tracks, took a deep breath and whispered “thank you”.

God gave me THIS time for a reason. The message was both reassuring, there is purpose to the pain, and heavy. It felt almost like a command, a challenge. I’ve been wrestling with what to do with this knowledge. How do I make the most of this time if it was given to me for a reason? What does that look like? I don’t want to waste it.

Two bible verses have popped up this week since hearing that voice. They seem to reaffirm that there is a purpose to this season. Urging me to be patient and to keep moving forward.

James 1:2-4  Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

Genesis 50:20 You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.

This time is preparing me.

This time is being worked for good.

This time is making me better.

I’ve been talking about my big dreams on Instagram a lot lately. Dreams to build a business that makes an impact in people’s lives. Dreams to write my story so that other people can embrace theirs. Dreams to quit my day job, but still provide financially. Dreams to be able to be more present for Austin and my husband. Dreams to be an example of bravery, authenticity and hard work for my family. Dreams to become the best version of myself- the one God had in mind when he created me.

Big, scary dreams. I’ve been asking for a lot.

So, maybe God is saying: “I gave you this time to prepare you for all those big dreams you’ve been asking me about.”

I don’t know for sure why this time was given to us. I certainly would rather it wasn’t given. I’d rather be pregnant and adding another baby to those big dreams.

But I am trusting that, just like God wove Joseph’s trials and heartaches for good (Book of Genesis), mine too will be used for good.

And what bigger dream could there be than creating some piece of goodness in this world?

Learning to Recognize Myself Again :: Overcoming Shame and Anxiety

I had pineapple for breakfast recently. It’s not a normal food in my house (although I do love it) but supposedly it helps embryos implant after transfer so I had stocked up for my post-transfer meals.

Smells and tastes have a powerful connection to my memories and the leftover flavor of pineapple in my mouth transported me right back to breakfast with my host family in Costa Rica {ten whole years ago}

And for the first time, in a LONG time I didn’t think to myself – “gosh, where did that girl go?”

See, “Costa Rica Nicole” was adventurous, independent, driven by passion and BRAVE. I set off all on my own to explore a country I didn’t know, to serve a community I could tangibly help and…to learn to surf. I spent 3 weeks traveling alone. Three weeks figuring it out on my own. And I was: fearless, confident… vibrant. I look at pictures of me on that trip and I know that was absolutely a “best version” of myself. In all honesty, for the last 10 years I’ve been looking back on those pictures wondering where that girl went and how I could get her back.

Not too long after that solo trip, I got engaged, graduated with my masters, got married, moved to a new state and…lost sight of that girl. My life got flip turned upside down {get it- hehe} and while it was filled with all great things, I struggled to find myself in that new season.

June 2010

I became fearful, unsure and deeply ashamed of myself because of it. I was SUPPOSED to be “Costa Rica Nicole” and I was so embarrassed that I wasn’t her anymore. My inner voice was loud and mean, but I struggled silently for years.  When our little boy was born, after an infertility diagnosis and going through IVF, the underlying feelings of self doubt, unworthiness and shame blew up into postpartum anxiety. I spent many days crying on the floor of my bathroom holding my newborn, who I loved more than life and had fought harder for than I ever thought was possible, asking what the hell was wrong with me? Why was it so overwhelming to take a damn shower? I didn’t tell anyone about those mornings on the floor- in my mind I was supposed to be this uber-capable supermom, and it killed me that I was struggling so much. No one could know.

Of course, the cracks showed and my husband was pretty aware that his wife wasn’t doing so great at this point. I wish I could tell you that one day a light bulb went off and everything got better, but it wasn’t like that. It was a painfully slow process. At one point I went to a therapist, but I didn’t continue…because I was too embarrassed to tell my family, who was in town helping take care of A while I went back to work. Oh the irony, a counselor embarrassed to go to counseling. As much as I didn’t want to go back to work, I have to admit that it helped. It reminded me that I was capable and valuable in at least one area of my life. I was good at work. I didn’t feel like I was good at much else in my life. In my mind I was a failure in so many ways. I recognize now that it wasn’t remotely true, but those lies are powerful when you’re in the thick of it.

Not long after I had Austin I had this crazy nagging in my mind for over a month that I needed to become a consultant for this amazing safer beauty brand that I had fallen in love with {enter Beautycounter}. I had no business adding more to my plate but I joined anyway. It plugged me into this community of empowered and encouraging women. And since they were all reading these “self-help” books, I figured I should start reading them too. So, I started listening to Audible and podcasts. Present Over Perfect was a balm for my heart. I’ve listened to it 3 more times since then and it always grounds me. One Thousand Gifts helped me see God’s gifts in the simple and the hard. The Power of Vulnerability gave me strength to break free from who I “should be” and just embrace who I am. Girl, Wash Your Face gave me the kick in the a$$ to finally start this blog and hustle for my dreams. Eventually, the voice in my head started to sound more like these amazing authors and less like…mean old me.

I started to eat right {most of the time} and take some supplements that helped get my gut health in order {shout out to Plexus}. Eventually I started working out and discovered I actually did like the gym- go figure. (Thank you Faster Way to Fat Loss.) I had been telling myself that lie for a long time (eye-roll).

I took up a morning devotional that I stick to about 75% of the time. Time spent with God and with gratitude is always the answer.

I made the choice to give myself grace instead of holding myself to a crazy supermom standard.

I am working on being intentional about slowing down and enjoying time with my family or time alone instead of always feeling like I have to be productive. The compulsion is real, y’all.

I made a promise to myself that I would never stop fighting to get back to a place of self-love. To get back to a me that I recognized and felt proud of.

And it worked. Little by little I started to see victories where I used to see failure. I still fight the “shame gremlins” as Brené Brown would call them. I still struggle and I still have anxiety. But, today I am able to make brave “Costa Rica Nicole” choices everyday, instead of hide, paralyzed by fear. Today, I can roll with the punches a little easier. I can laugh at my mistakes and learn from them, because GROWTH is my mindset. I try to greet each day with a positive attitude and believe I am capable of anything I put my mind to because I’ve seen it happen before. I cut myself some slack in the areas that don’t really matter to me (like having a perfectly clean home) but I’m determined to never again break a promise I make to myself or my family because those things matter most. I’m grateful that I did this work, especially as we face this failed IVF cycle. I can’t imagine how I would be coping if I hadn’t.

I’ve now realized that I was far from alone in my struggles, especially after birth. A staggering 50%-75% of women struggle with some level of postpartum anxiety or depression. Women who faced infertility prior to having a baby are even more likely to experience PPD/PPA.

And yet, I was so embarrassed. If only I had known. If only I had known someone else who was talking about it. So, I am talking about it now. If you can relate, know you are not alone and trust that you will get through this. It will take work and it won’t happen overnight. Reach out to people you trust. Feed your heart, mind and soul with positive words, images, and sounds. Turn off the negative. Start small and take it one day at a time. Little things add up to big things and one day you’ll realize the fog has lifted and you can breathe again. You can recognize yourself again.

If you don’t know where to start- read these books. I am literally forever grateful to Shauna, Ann, Brené and Rachel. They do not disappoint. I am praying for you sweet mama. I believe in you.

Present over Perfect by Shauna Niequist

One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp

The Power of Vulnerability (and literally anything by Brené Brown. She should be required reading)

Girl. Wash Your Face by Rachel Hollis

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