It's hard to even find words. How can you use such simple, uncomplicated things to express such elation? I am pregnant. Not only that, but I am 15.5 weeks along. To sweeten the deal there are 2 apple sized babies growing in utero. The miracle of life is a real thing and I still can't fathom that I'm able to experience it.
    We trudged through infertility for 3 years, a drop in the bucket for some people, but it was felt so fiercely throughout every single day. It has been the greatest challenge of my life. I've prayed for a baby to come into our family, knowing that he/she would be so, so, so loved. The incessant waiting and lack of answers made it unbearable at times. Last October, we decided to continue on with in vitro fertilization (IVF). In November we did an egg retrieval and I was swollen like a guinea pig from them gathering so many eggs. In January we decided to purse our first course of IVF and, thus, we met our deductible in the first week of the new year! It was successful and I fell pregnant, only to find out I miscarried unexpectedly. It took 6 weeks for everything from that pregnancy to naturally pass from me and I grieved more than I ever have before. I spent the next few months in a stupor. I carried around a positive pregnancy test in my purse to remind myself that it was real event, and not just something I imagined. Depression is real and I experienced it for myself; I still think of this baby almost daily. But life must go on. After enough time had passed we geared back up for another round, which we completed in May. I put my heart into it, I wanted to be a mother more than anything else. We found out that it didn't work. I felt so morose and begged for strength to continue on. I felt like I should time some time off but I couldn't rationalize it- I didn't want to put it off. We immediately began for another round in June, which was set to happen June 29th.
    July 3rd was only 4 days past my 5 days transfer- which means I was still 5 days away from when I was supposed to take a test that would accurately tell me the results. I woke up very early on accident and immediately began to google the likelihood of a getting a positive pregnancy test. Google confirmed that the chances would be extremely slim and that I should wait it out; I reluctantly decided to follow the instructions. That lasted about 30 seconds until my resolve took a nosedive, the itch was strong. I petered into the bathroom knowing that it was a bad mistake. I quickly took a test, covered it up, and continued with my morning routine. The limbo period is always a simultaneous desire to check it immediately and put it off until the last moment. Finally the time came, as I took the paper off the test my heart dropped. A very faint second line showed up on the test. I remember murmuring "I'm pregnant!" and feeling so happy, then I felt my heart drop and a lump swell in my throat. It felt so wrong to feel that way- it was not what I expected. I was elated. But then again I wasn't ready for the chance to lose another child. My emotions battled. Still, there was proof of a baby!
   I sat back down on my couch and googled incessantly. I tried to make myself more presentable, yanked out my camera and when it came time all the cutesy things I planned to use to surprise my husband flew out the window. Graham woke up for work and I could not hold it in. I extended the test to him when he began to pray aloud (not planned). The first thing he asked for us was that we could get pregnant soon and my heart soared. He opened his eyes and he saw that his words weren't just a request anymore. I think he was as dumbfounded as I was.
    I began to accept that it was real when my clinic confirmed it with bloodwork at 4 weeks pregnant. There was a teensy, tiny dot that was forming into a child, how insane! The next day I joined my family for a vacation, which made the secret both difficult and easy. They didn't really ask questions when I would leave them during the following week for bloodwork. They assumed it was routine, yet I knew it was to continue proving that my HCG levels were rising (the only way to know the pregnancy is progressing if you're that early on). My numbers steadily climbed and my heart lifted.
    After three times of proving my HCG was on the up and up, my bloodwork aspect was over. I was hoping to keep checking but my clinic pulled the plug, instead asked me to patiently wait for one more week to come in for a 6 week Ultrasound. It was a reasonable request. For anyone who has read my post about my miscarriage, you'll know that it was at that appointment when I found out I had a vanishing pregnancy. So suddenly, it wasn't all that reasonable to me. My anxiety was so, so high as I waited during that period. It was truly hell. I refused to follow the path that I experienced with the first baby, which included downloading a daily growth tracker, buying baby items or making too great of a mention of it. I downplayed it as much as possible because there was great fear in my heart. I hope this doesn't come off as my being unappreciative, but rather I felt so strongly that I had to protect myself, lest I experience something else devastating.
    The morning of my ultrasound was one of the scariest days of my life. I sat in my car with plenty of time before Graham was there and I watched my hands shake. I videoed a few quick thoughts I had and my voice quavered. It was so scary. Pregnancy after infertility is stressful, but pregnancy after loss is a whole new ballgame. You're worried about yourself and your child. You want to believe that it's okay but you're afraid to be too invested. You wonder if you made all the right choices along the way. It's the worst flurry of emotions.
    When I'm lost and can't bear it alone I have to seek peace. I prayed so fiercely that I wouldn't be let down. I prayed that a baby would be in there. I prayed that a heartbeat would be visible. I prayed that all of the heartache, all of the money, all of the wasted time would be worth it. I prayed that we could actually carry this baby home and make a family.
    Of course, by now it's obvious that it worked. But just a matter of 8 weeks ago, it wasn't this way. There was fear and excitement then, and at times there still are now! Even after exiting my first trimester I worry more than is probably necessary. After telling both of our immediate families, I didn't feel like I wanted to share it further. Of course the nervousness was a factor, but it was enough to have a few people know and send me their well wishes. They were thrilled for us and it raised my spirits. Thank you, family! Experiencing this with you has been sweeter than I imaged it would be. I'm so happy to know our babies are coming into a home with love.
    There is so much that people say about a mother's love that I know is true: I loved them even before I knew of them. I hoped and prayed for them when they were microscopic embryos in petri dishes. I pleaded with God to send them to me and it never will not astound me that he finally did so. They are truly the inspiration of my delight

    I also know that at times I battle with the guilt of getting to experience pregnancy and motherhood. I know so many other deserving women who I wish so desperately could do the same! As happy as we can be for someone else, it's always, always a slight blow to yourself. There will be absolutely no hard feelings if you can't speak to me about this, need to remove me from your newsfeed or have to take other measures- I've been there and I've done it all. Please, please know that I haven't forgotten you, that I know your plight and that I honestly pray for you.

    I started writing blog posts up weekly after my first Ultrasound. I'll share them on the blog when I can :)

5 Weeks + 6 Days Pregnant: There's Two!

    Today was the most incredible day of my life. Graham and I both watched a screen and we saw heartbeats. YES, plural! We watched on the screen as we saw two separate babies, our babies, in their own little yolk sacs. There was magic as we saw the flicker of beating hearts. Amazing, inspiring, breath-taking, there isn't enough words to describe those moments. We are having two! Two different and surely wonderful spirits. I don't even know how exactly to feel other than elated beyond belief. I can't believe it. I honestly can't believe that there are two little peas-sized babies inside of me. What a miracle of all miracles!
     Of course, leading up the appointment I was a maniac. Every other day I either told Graham a new symptom I was feeling or either that I knew it was going south. The buildup to the ultrasound was so difficult; horrendous flashbacks of the first pregnancy taunted me. The journey has felt so bleak and so devastating. Hearing that my own babies were thriving filled me with overwhelming love and gratitude and happiness. I'm only 6 weeks, so there is definitely a long way to go but we have already came this far. I've never been this far!
     There were just two of us for so long. It felt so hard to wait for our family to expand. It was the most frustrating, devastating event for us to constantly feel so stagnant. It's been just me and Graham, but we wanted more. And now our family is going to double. Two of us and two children. Is that hardly crazy? I'm in awe.
    I don't know what else to say. There are babies in my belly and they have left me filled with pride. They are working so hard right now to grow their eyes and spines and livers. To follow along their story is a wonder. I can't believe that they are actually growing into tiny people. One day they'll be tangible. Soon I'll be able to identify them with a gender and a personality. That is spectacular to imagine. My sweet, precious babies. I pray that they continue to develop and grow in all the right ways. I am so desperately in love with whoever is listening to my heart while growing their own.

July 4th, 17

    I would say I'm smiling too large in basically every single picture, but what can you do, ya know? Any day I get to spend sleeping in, grilling out, hanging with family, watching a processional of fireworks and on the beach is a good time to me.That was basically the gist of it- lots of lounging. At one point I was sitting outside in the shade alone with my thoughts while listening to some tunes and knitting and I felt so amazingly at peace. Just so peaceful. It was a great day.

Sometimes, I talk too much too. 

Post Mother's Day Blues

    It was really hard and emotional, and I'm still coming down from the emotional affects of Mother's Day. I debated sharing on the actual day, but I felt too guilty because, like, motherhood isn't easy and Mama's do deserve some time to shine!
    The past three years I have dreaded and dodged this holiday- I have to totally take myself out of the equation. I've come to realize that many people do and I appreciate the camaraderie, honestly. It makes me wanna ban together so we can all yell it out.
    One of the most difficult moments of my life was over Mother's Day weekend (of course it was, amiright?). I was told my IVF #2 failed, to my utter shock, and I couldn't do anything but feel devastated. We had big plans to hear Graham's favorite speaker and I just couldn't get out of the bed to get myself put together. I laid in the bed and I couldn't stop crying. That night I quit all my injections and pills, in disbelief that it didn't work. I was so determined that I would get pregnant again that I didn't spend too much time worrying about what if it didn't work. When I got hungry enough I drove to DQ for my ultimate pick me up meal while blasting Lil Wayne's "I Feel Like Dying." And I felt like I could die of a heart that just won't quit breaking.
    The next morning Graham forced me out of the bed to get lunch. As soon as we sat down we heard our table neighbors, it just so happened that we were adjacent from a large family gathering for Mother's Day. This group's most favorite member of all was their brand new baby. I'm serious, I thought my family fawned over babies, but we don't have anything on this one. They coo'ed and awe'd and kissed and played and passed around and complimented and adored him more than ANY child I have ever seen. He was so deeply loved and idolized. His Grandpa kept snatching him back so he could make funny noises while he searched for a little smile on the tiny angelic face. Finally I just couldn't hold it back and, just like in a bad quality movie, I had to run to the bathroom sobbing, in the desperate search for a tissue. And so I stood in a locked stall with wadded up paper as I sniveled and wondered why do I need to go through this? I get it, no child for me, but why do I constantly feel the deep anguish that comes from everyone else's babies?
    I think it hurts worse because I try SO hard to be a supportive friend and shrug off the way that I truly feel, because I know it's for the betterment of all around me. And I am so happy for my friends that can expand their families and that get to tell tales of their little ones- it's no one's fault that I can't. But then I think of the baby that was in my belly this very year but now isn't. And I recognize that this was meant to be the first Mother's Day where I would celebrate the life I was bringing forth. Except, I'm not doing that anymore and that things are as stagnant as they always have been. It made Mother's Day so much harder, when I couldn't just be happy for myself.

    We didn't share with anyone this time that we were doing another IVF- it was wedged in the week of my sister's wedding and I felt crazy balancing so many things that week. If anyone asked me what was up I evaded the truth and I don't regret that because I needed to keep it private for myself. It is such a stressful process, and it leaves you feeling so elated and scared and dejected and optimistic. It's one of the most challenging things I have ever done.
    What's next you ask? Please don't ask. I don't know. I'm not ready to go there yet. I truly feel pulled in so many directions that I can't really separate which one is the course for me- I'm lucky to have so many options but it's also a bit of a struggle to decipher what to do. It's now my constant source when studying and praying.
    I really should have taken more time off from my miscarriage before jumping in to the next thing. That is still such a major stressor for me. After some therapeutic venting sessions with friends, I've come to understand that if I'm not being proactive in "solving" this then I feel severe guilt and disgruntlement. I wish I didn't feel this way because after years of this, I need a break. My body, my mind, my marriage, my friendships, my calling- it would all benefit from a couple month's of down time. I wish it was a break with a baby in the belly, but it looks like it won't turn out that way just yet. Eeeeeeep.
    Other minor things have been going wrong (like missing work because my car won't start and locking myself out of the house and feeling like I just can't get on top of things that I really need to be on top of) and it's being blown out of proportion because of the weight of everything. This deep sadness I feel is really, really getting me down. I feel silly getting to this point, there is a huge portion of me that knows how much I have that I am/should be happy about. I shouldn't dwell on this one small aspect of my life, but it has a way of magnifying itself.
    So why am I here? I guess to write about the difficult subject that is Lacey. I'm in such a weird place in my life and it has taken a great deal of time to process everything. If you've stuck with me, just know that I LOVE you for it. It was told to me that I could find comfort and strength from my social media community and I have! Thanks for that :)

Miscarriage after IVF #1

    Originally I had written a piece, in the midst of deep hurt and anger, on the day we found out. It's very raw and doesn't mince words. I'm grateful that I wrote it, despite it being hard to read at certain times, because it reflects me at that moment. But I don't want to share that, it's something just for me. And so I present to you: a less emotional, shortened (to a degree) spiel on the most taxing chapter of my life.
    Graham and I went in the office for our first IVF on January 30th- which means we had implanted 5 day old embryos into my uterus to be considered pregnant until proven otherwise. I didn't hold much stock that it would work, so I resisted testing for almost a week. One morning I decided ample time had passed, then I quickly took one, covered it up and kept about my daily routine. After a few minutes I remembered to check it. On a beautiful Sunday morning at 8am on February 5th, just 3 days after Graham's 30th birthday, I stood in shock over a POSITIVE PREGNANCY TEST. Positive! The first sign of life for OUR BABY! FINALLY, A BABY!!!
    When I shared the news, Graham was stupefied (like myself) and we hugged for the longest time before staring at the test again. Euphoria ensued. It was real; my clinic called a few days later to confirm through my bloodwork. We were congratulated and asked to come in at 6 weeks for a ultrasound to check up. The happiest days of my life commenced- Graham and I were gifted the most wonderful, sought after thing imaginable. I'd put my hand over my lower abdomen knowing that I would give all of myself to the tiniest member of our family. I tried my very best to keep it as discreet as possible, our little poppy seed, bubbling with pride and love.
     February 22nd we walked into the clinic, camera in tow. I couldn't stop crying before they even started. After careful checking we were told there was no sign of life, that I'd likely miscarried before coming in. My heart, freshly mended, broke once again, but in an indescribable way. How I grieved in the unfairness, the misery and the downright terribleness of it all! My desire to keep trying, my faith in the process dwindled. I felt like I had reached a point where I couldn't return from. It was so hard. It IS so hard.
     I am so sorrowful for this lost child of mine. I am so sad to know that we will never know one another. I am so disappointed in the fact that my struggle is not over. Learning of possible chromosomal abnormalities, knowing that I can now get pregnant, being asked to get past this experience in lieu of a better one to come- these are made up of empty words. I wanted that baby.
    I am coming around to the idea that it will be okay. Not that I will miraculously get over it, but that I can live with this. There are still many relapses, which may be an eternal consequence, but I'm pushing through with as much clarity as possible. I am coming to understand that comfort comes in so many different forms and from so many different people. I am learning that I can use my experiences to wallow in the pity that I feel or to benefit others, in any capacity. After all, to have this baby I have went through unassisted help, Clomid, Letrozole, IUI and IVF. I have had successful and cancelled cycles, Ovarian Hyper Stimulation, egg retrievals and embryo transfers. I have taken birth control, pills for ovulation and uterine lining thickeners and to suppress my ovaries. I have taken injections full of stimulants in my rear, stomach, back and arm for weeks without end. I have went in for blood draws for days in a row and more than forty ultrasounds. I have went through important tests and several minor surgeries. I have taken many negative pregnancy tests and one positive test. I have experienced being pregnant and losing that pregnancy. We have literally done it all in the realm of infertility. There must be some good that can come of this. I have to believe there must be. I will make it so, as to the best of my ability.
    I, once again, need some down time and will not be updating on this part of my life for awhile. It's too demanding emotionally to share the ups and downs. I am so grateful for the love and compassion that has always been extended to us. It's that much easier to make it through, so thank you. Yet, there is no one who cheers me on and makes my days worth living like my Graham- my love for him knows no bounds. He will make the most wonderful Dad, partially because we have truly went through hell just to make him one.

    To my sweet baby: You were mine, and that made you some kind of special. I don't have the adequate words to express how much I miss your presence. You made me want to be better in every sense of the word. Thank you for inspiring joy in our lives. You confirmed the belief, that I had always feared wouldn't be possible, that I could actually become a Mother. You made everything worth it. Your father and I loved you yesterday, love you still, always have, always will.

3 weeks, 6 days pregnant

Psychotic and Emotionally Driven

    When I was a little girl I had a specific fear. Like most bizarre phobias do, it had snowballed from a scene from a Lifetime movie. The plot was based on a man who would lure young, beautiful girls onto his boat and when he was finished with them he'd tie a cinderblock to their leg and let them sink to the depths of the ocean. Lately I'm the young girl and my life is the cinderblock, only I'm still trying to decide if there is only one man trying to axe me off or a few.
    I've been dealing with a ton of emotional baggage, my face broke out from stress, a fever blister showed up only to be gone one day for another to take its' place only to be finished for another to take it's place, I keep one red eye because my last contact has a tear in it, my allergies caused my sinuses to be clogged, I have little to no motivation to go to work and leave the sanctity of my home, I was asked to do something that I feel drastically underprepared for and my husband is stressed to the max himself. I'm drowning in things that I can't control. Add the fact that I need to be in control at all times and you've got yourself one psychotic, emotionally-driven gal.
     You know how sometimes it just happens that way? It's bad bad bad bad bad bad then finally out of nowhere it starts getting good? Yeah I'm somewhere in the 'bad' stage waiting on the 'good.' It, for sure, forces me exercise my patience and my faith- both of which I should get better at.
    Well that about sums it up. I'm just waiting for better days, and traveling in between. In all honesty, that is the only thing that makes my life seem fun. Everything else is incredibly mundane, but I know we all go through periods of that. So in short, I hope you weren't prepped for a great story of heartache followed by a solution, I wish I shared more of those- my only advice is to have a great person as a friend to help when times are tough and do something fun when you're down. That's as deep as it gets, sorry ya'll. For now, here is a bunch of recent pictures of Graham and me at Walt Disney World. My gosh, I love and miss that place.

Graham is 30, flirty and thriving

Happy 30th birthday Graham. It's silly to think you've lived three whole decades. I am grateful for each one of them as they have molded you. To think of each phase as you have grown in your own way: your bug eyed baby stage, sweet little slugger stage, teenage years with an afro stage, young missionary just trying to figure it all out stage, devoted and adoring boyfriend stage, and this latest hard working, intelligent and genuinely funny adult stage. There is no adequate words to express my admiration and love for the man that you are. You are so full of life, so determined, so faithful. You see people in a special light and appreciate them for who they are. You serve effortlessly and tirelessly. You inspire me to want to do better and be a better person. You make me laugh when no one else can get through to me. When the world seems to be crumbling, I know I can turn to you and that you alone will help me. I hope you know that I could not do it without you at my side. You are exactly what I wanted in a spouse, you truly do complete me in all the ways that a person can. I hope this year is filled with more of your laughs, your triumphs and your happiness. I want the world for you, as you deserve it. I love you, I love you, I love you 30x over.