Tag: gratitude

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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I Still Believe in Miracles

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I learned a long time ago that sorrow and joy can coexist. That they are really two sides of the same coin. That you can’t know the depths of joy without having known sorrow. And we only know sorrow because we have known joy.

{The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.- Khalil Gibran}

I’m grateful for that long ago learned lesson. Grateful that the truth of it has shown up enough times in my life that I can face today’s news with the hope and certainty that while today I feel deep sorrow, I know I will again feel deep joy.

This cycle did not work. Our embryo did not implant. I’m not pregnant.

The air around me feels heavier as I write those words. A weight hangs off my shoulders. I knew that was a possibility when we got our first pregnancy test results last week. On Monday we heard that my HCG levels had decreased when they should be increasing, but still we hoped and prayed. God works miracles everyday. This morning we tested one more time. Our sweet baby just didn’t make it. There is no rhyme or reason. Nothing we did wrong. It is just how things happen sometimes.

I still believe in miracles, though. I am a mother to one.

I am a firm believer that emotions are meant to be felt to their fullest. We will continue to grieve this loss. More tears will be shed. More anger. More “why didn’t it?” If I try to deny my feelings they will only fester and become bigger.

I am also a firm believer that we get to choose how we respond to the things that life brings us. I can choose to let this sadness take over or I can choose to face each day with hope. I choose to find moments of joy in the midst of our sadness. I choose to believe in God’s plan, even though it doesn’t look like my plan. I choose to still see our many blessings and be grateful. There are a million things that I have to be grateful for. I am grateful for the short time I got to hope for the promise of new life growing inside me. It is a privilege not everyone has.

Our baby boy {yes, it was a boy} was just not meant to come earthside. He is forever in heaven with our God and our grandparents and heavenly family who love him as much as we do. I know we will meet him someday.

I can’t begin to tell you how much your prayers and kind words and messages have meant to us. Please continue to pray for us and for our baby boy in heaven. We aren’t sure when we will try again. It is a complex conversation. But, we are confident that our family will continue to grow in God’s time. At the beginning of our infertility journey, God spoke to me through Isaiah 41:13; He is holding our hands today, assuring us to have no fear, for He will help us.

I leave you with one of my favorite poems by a favorite author: Kahlil Gibran

On Joy and Sorrow

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.

And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.

And how else can it be?

The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?

And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”

But I say unto you, they are inseparable.

Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.

Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.

When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

When the answer is “maybe”

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This morning I had my first blood test to see if Baby #2 has decided to stick around. I woke up really early so we could get on the road and make the hour trek through LA traffic to get there right at opening. I had to head right to work after, another hour away, and get Austin to daycare on the way. Suffice it to say, it was a potentially stressful start to an already stressful day.

Walking back to the car after my blood draw, I spotted the adorable breakfast cafe that I’ve been telling myself I’ll try “one of these days” every time I have an appointment with Dr. K. So, today, instead of rushing back to work after my appointment and letting the anxiety of the day take over, I chose to slow down and take my little man to breakfast. Nothing fills my heart and reminds me of God’s never-ending provision like some quality time with this guy. ⠀

Should I have headed straight  back to work? My boss would probably have said “yes”. {actually, my boss is amazing and probably would have told me to grab her a pastry on the way back, but HER boss probably would say “get back to work”) And certainly the “people pleaser” in me had to wrestle with that one for a minute. But…

I am so glad I chose to listen to what my heart said I needed over someone else’s expectations. I left our 20 minute  breakfast detour feeling immense peace and gratitude. If I hadn’t stopped and slowed down enough to see and feel and enjoy my many blessings…I wouldn’t have been in a great place to hear … “maybe”…

Maybe you’re pregnant. Maybe you’re not.

My HCG levels came back positive, but lower than they want to see at first. I’ll have to retest next week and see if those numbers are increasing. This is exactly what happened with Austin, so I’m less worried than you’d think. But still, now I am living in limbo land a little longer, wondering if every cramp, every twinge, every spot of tiny pink blood is just our baby settling in or the end of this cycle.

Gratitude is the antidote to anxiety. Gratitude is playing defense to my fear right now. Gratitude is keeping me hopeful when I could turn to doubt. Gratitude is a the coziest warm blanket of peace wrapping its arms around me right now. Well, gratitude and Jesus 🙂

Today was a reminder of God’s instruction. He tells us to “be still and know that I am God”. Be still and know His presence. Be still and know His peace. Be still and know His promises. Be still and know His love and goodness and provision. But first, be still. Slow down so I can see Him and all the ways He shows me who He is.

Will I be taking deep breaths all weekend as I remind myself to choose gratitude over anxiety? Yes. Will I cry a little? I already have. Will I wonder what will be next for us if this baby isn’t meant to join us earthside? Of course.  But I won’t doubt that God has a perfect plan for us, because I have seen His promises come to life time and time again. No matter the outcome, we are blessed and my life is good and beautiful.

 

{Thank you for all your prayers and baby dust- it means the world}

 

What I Know For Sure :: Gratitude

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I spent the morning crying. And when I say crying I mean ugly faced, red cheeked,  tears pouring, bawling my eyes out crying… for a good 45 minutes. 

My tears  weren’t from sadness or fear or anxiety. They could have been since we are transferring baby #2 soon and I should be a total mess. But no, it was gratitude. Deep, heart bursting, skin tingling, joyful gratitude. The kind of you feel deep down in your bones. 

It started with my morning devotional. I decided to play some music and chose my favorite worship song of all time- Oceans by Hillsong United.

“Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You’ve never failed and You won’t start now”

It’s a song I listened to over and over during our first round of IVF. And as I listened to the lyrics and remembered that season of our life while watching my crazy, wonderful toddler running circles around me, I was struck with the most profound joy and feeling of gratitude. For the blessing of this life I get to call mine. For God’s unwavering provision. For His promises fulfilled. For His unending hope.  He has never failed me… 

Last night we had a family date night. It was a special night because we also picked the gender of our future baby. See, with IVF, you have the ability to choose the gender, since we know the genetic makeup of our embryos. I don’t love having that choice in my hands and a HUGE piece of me wants to be surprised {like all the other normal parents who get to do gender reveal parties and such}. So, we are making it a surprise as best we can. Last night at the beach, we prayed over a little bowl full of folded white paper strips, each labeled boy or girl. Austin reached in and grabbed a piece and put it in an envelope. We sealed it and threw away the other strips so neither of us (ahem- my dear husband) would count the remaining papers and figure out what Austin had placed in that envelope.

This morning, in the midst of my grateful tear-fest, I had this beautiful vision: my grandparents in heaven sitting with our future child. The one God had already chosen for us. They are waiting with him or her and helping to prepare that child for their earthly home with our family. 

If I wasn’t crying before, you bet your booty I was crying then. I have often felt my grandparent’s presence since their passing and have had some really cool experiences where Austin has recognized them without me having told him about them before, so I 100% believe they are angels in heaven. It was the most comforting, peaceful image I’ve ever had.

Austin eventually noticed that mommy was crying. It took him a surprisingly long time; I think children are so much more comfortable with emotions that it didn’t even register until he heard me choke back a sob.

“Mommy, you sad?” he looked at me with the tenderest eyes and came over to pat my knee.

In that moment I got to hold his angel face in my hands and tell him I wasn’t sad at all. I was crying because I was happy. So very happy that God had given him to us. He smiled and nodded like he understood. Then he went back to playing.  He probably won’t remember this specific instance in his life, but I hope he always remembers and feels the love we have for him.

What this morning’s emotional melt down revealed to me is this, the truth I know way down in the deepest parts of my soul:

Whatever the results of our embryo transfer, God is good. God promises that He has good plans for us and I trust him. Because He has always, always provided. He has always, always been good. Even in the hardest parts, He has been good. He’s blessed us beyond anything we deserve or have earned. 

It is a gratitude that leaves me speechless. A gratitude that I am blessed to know.

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Foreboding Joy

I’ve been on an infertility rollercoaster lately.

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We’re scheduled for our embryo transfer for baby #2 this summer and I’ve noticed lately that I’m feeling rather disconnected from this reality. Like there is something in me that is blocking out the anticipation, excitement, joy, even the fear. Like, I’ve been numb to it. Gah, so frustrating. I’ve slowly been peeling away the layers of why and I spoke it out loud for the first time to my girlfriends this weekend. Thank God for girlfriends, right?
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So here’s the thing I am SO DAMN BLESSED, like, beyond comprehension. And I look around and see so much heartache. Fellow TTC Sisters who are still struggling to have their first child. Friends who have lost babies before they even saw the light of this world. Friends who have lost children who were just getting started. Friends who have endured tragedy and trauma…and here I am asking for more blessings? Who the hell do I think I am? I have it so good…
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And at the same time, it feels like by asking for more that I just might tip the scale..and all those things, those “in my worst nightmare” things, will happen. Because there has to be such thing as too much of a good thing, right? Everything comes crashing down at some point, right? Maybe if I just ..don’t move…don’t change anything…don’t ask for more…then maybe I’ll be protected from all those scary scary what-if’s?
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Of course my friends gently reminded me that I have lived through some of my own nightmares. And that I have zero control over when, or if, another bad thing will happen. The only thing I am doing by not allowing myself to feel all the things that come with trying for another baby, is robbing myself of the joy that I have been blessed with.
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Everything about infertility and motherhood is vulnerable. It’s so easy to try and put up defenses. But I don’t want to lose the joy of this season in my life. Because it is so, so sweet. Brené Brown calls it foreboding joy, and I am the queen. She also says gratitude is the antidote. So, I am focusing practicing gratitude and savoring all of the sweet blessing of living in this moment, right now.

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