2014 in review

2014 flew right on by and we are now entering "the year of the hover-board".
I like to spend a little bit of time at the end of the year in reflection. The first time I did this was here, for 2012, helping me create and seal some precious moments in that I would otherwise be unable to recover years from now. So let's look back at some of the biggest moments of 2014.

2014

A year of Hope, Hope Lost, Gratitude, and Grace.

January was our first full month home with Little Man. Quite a chunk of that time was spent battling RSV at Texas Children's. We were thrown head first into parenting. It challenged me to let go of expectations and control. I made the decision right there to not take for granted one second of the new gig I have been given. No matter what. 

In February, we started at The Rise School of Houston. 

Game Changer. 

The teachers and therapists at this school are one of a kind, helping Little Man reach his potential. He loves it, I love it and they, of course, love him. 

We spent Easter weekend in Boston visiting Aunt Courtney, Crazy Uncle C and sweet Cousin Abigail.    

The Ducks were wearing Ukraine and DS awareness colored scarves. They must have heard we were coming to Boston.

Best Friends in the making!

Spring came and brought with us Little Man's first birthday. 

What many did not know, is it also brought us another pregnancy. As Little Man blew out his candles (Ok, you caught me, really we blew them out), I had sweat beads of morning sickness nausea dripping down my neck. The flame flickered out and I pictured us doing this again at his birthday next year, with a baby in our arms. We were the cliche - we were that story that always gets told to adopting couples - we got pregnant right after an adoption!

In the summer, I graduated as a Family Nurse Practitioner and some how passed boards. Grace! An adoption and grad school might be tricky for some, but not if you are surrounded by the incredible family and friends that I have. As family gathered to celebrate, I started to have signs and symptoms of a miscarriage and we ended up at the hospital instead of the ceremony. Instead of walking the stage, I was given a different gift:

I watched a baby's heart beat within me for the first time. 
Hope had been conceived.

 The next couple weeks we hung onto hope. Each appointment with a flickering heart made my hope grow stronger.

We lost Hope the end of May.

May, June and July were hum-dinger months for Little Man. We got our senses up and going! Tubes were put in the ears, glasses were prescribed and he got his undescended testes brought down! Then to really end the summer with a bang, we had a couple of health scares. Including a rushed ER trip with the car flashers on and me, embarrassingly, hanging my head out the window, flailing my arms screaming for people to get out of our way. Because acting like a maniac in tense situations helps. 
Kidney function concerns, frustrating MRI's, and a couple blood tests later we confirmed Little Man is healthy, happy and thriving. He just had a terrible kidney infection. Once we found the right antibiotic, he healed right up. 
He is tenacious and brave. 

We finally made it to Midland in August. A trip to Mimi and Papa Jack's house after a hectic summer was just what the doctor ordered.

Catching up with old friends. I still can't believe we are old enough to have kids. 

Fall brought pumpkins and teeth.  Little Man loves words that start with d and p and laughs hysterically at them. He brings such joy. He is a gift in so many ways and our lives are way better indeed. He also got a mouthful of teeth; it seems like overnight. We woke up one morning to a cute-giant-toothy grin! 

Fall also brought us an attempt at IUI.  The D's made it a family affair. We even awkwardly met up with Crazy Uncle C in the hospital lobby. 

All of us in the exam room right before the procedure.

 How funny would it have been to say Little Man was there for his brother/sister's conception? 
To be honest, I never really thought it was going to work, I just felt like I needed to try it so I wouldn't regret not having tried it later. Surprisingly, this failed attempt did not rock me the way I feared it might. It might also be because right after the Big-Fat-Negative-news we entered Winter.

Winter brought such a season of gratefulness. Thanksgiving 2013 was spent eating crackers on an orphanage couch with Little Man. To have him in our home, in our arms, crawling around, babbling up a storm this year was overwhelming. 

Thanksgiving 2013 vs. Thanksgiving 2014

Basically, everyday I had a "this time last year" moment that would almost move me to tears. Instagram followers were probably annoyed with all my #tbt cheesy posts. I couldn't stop myself. I was stuck in a sentimental cloud for most of November.
 We are a family. And on Dec 13, we celebrated with our friends and family that we are indeed "Forever a Family." 

His RISE teacher made it to the Forever a Family celebration.

Once again, we move into another year without the "gift" of pregnancy. There were a couple days of lost hope in 2014.  Literally and metaphorically. Our hope was due in December and due dates can be daunting with miscarriages. But Christmas came and reminded me Hope did come to the world. Our long awaited HOPE is already here.

At an Ellie Holcomb concert I was reminded: Hope is Alive

Thankful for Grace. During the last couple of years, there have been people in my life who have stepped up to the call. They provided resource, encouragement and friendship in astounding ways.  I move into the new year asking God to stir my soul, to make every bitter thing sweet as I hunger for him, and to open my eyes to how I can now be an encouragement those around me. 

We enter another year asking God to redeem our loss. And if you have read much on my blog, you know he does time and time again. 
2015 and Martin McFly, Here we come!

He is walking hand-assisted.  In 2015, we are definitely gonna be strolling or hover-boarding, either would be pretty cool.

what should we call it

Infertility
I googled a synonym for it and  the other options are worse. Trust me on this.... don't do it. So what do we call it.
I almost put a question mark at the end of that word. I simply do not think it fits. By medical definition, it just might. After two years, this word is started to creepity creep its way into my mind but somewhere along the way I have adopted an attitude that this label is not me/us.
"I am young. I've got time. I'm in grad school still. The timing actually might not have worked out right anyway. Some people have struggled even longer."
While the above statements are indeed truth. The underlying secret is for about one week EVERY month for TWO years I get excited that I might be pregnant. (of course, this excludes the months I was actually pregnant). When will a girl learn this is not a good idea?
This can make anyone start to tiptoe the line of insanity.
So what should we call this...........Process.
I have never blogged about this before. But after such positive feedback (hey thanks for that) from the last post I decided to brave forward.
I don't think I am there yet. Don't mistake my optimism for fraud. I still cried yesterday on our "Not this Month" date night of sushi, mango mojitos, and coffee; but I feel in my gut that there is a plan for the hubs and I. The day after the day I realize I'm not pregnant God fills me with renewed energy and excitement about the days ahead.  And while my mom and mom-in-law will hate this statement, the energy is not from the faith that I will get pregnant. I do not feel God has promised me that. It lies in this idea that if I never get pregnant; I can still be/do incredible things for the kingdom. Maybe even more than if I get pregnant.....
Which is why I will not call it infertility. Because I know my life will never be: unfruitful, unproductive, sterile, barren, or exhausted.  Jesus whispers something else to me the morning after:
I have come that they may have life,and have it to the full.

The reality of an over-sharer

My dad is not a fan of the "internets". I will never worry about him creeping my facebook page or writing an embarrassing twitter. I can understand why. Sometimes it is startling all the private things in our life we  choose to make so public. Almost seems narcissistic. I recently read in Reader's Digest (which my dad is a fan of and in fact renews my subscription to every year) that there is quite a bit of controversy over photos people upload on Facebook.  From what I understand, once you upload them, Facebook and the entities you "like" basically have the rights to them. Makes me reconsider my blogging and Facebook addiction.... for only a moment.
When it comes to blogging, I often laugh at myself for being egocentric enough to think the world wide web wants to hear from me. How I consider that my fascinating life, crafts, thoughts, and musings need to be shared. Sitting here sharing my life with strangers. I don't even know if they have kind faces!
And once I saw Julie and Julia, the fantasies began spiraling. Mr. Movie Director should be emailing me any day now to discuss the contract for a screen play based on my blog/life. OK... maybe not a movie... but for sure a publisher is going to want  me to write a book.
 I rarely even keep up with this blog. It has no direction, theme, continuity, or consistency. Why do I continue to get such a high from hitting Publish for a new post?
Pride.
Insecurity.
Probably both.
But I also think I have always been a chronic over-sharer. I spill the beans on secrets and sins usually the first night of going to a new small group.  Word-vomit regret is a daily emotion I encounter. That tight knot in your belly you get when you walk away from a conversation saying "why did I tell them that?" happens at this once a day. I am grateful that I have a thing for "awkward moments" since I classically create them daily.
I value transparency but do I cross the line into over-divulging.
Aaaahh. There I go over- sharing and over-thinking.

What happens when I try to study...

Running with style

Went for my first outside run of the season. Fall, for some people, is here when the pumpkin spice latte is back, or perhaps it's getting ready for Halloween, or these days you know its fall when Christmas decor hits Hobby Lobby. For me, its being able to run outside again.
Yes, I realize I could have been running outside anyway but I enjoy breathing, staying hydrated, not throwing up and avoiding heat strokes. In my head, where I am CEO of fantasy land, I am an incredible super-athlete with a resting heart rate of 40 and built of solid muscle. In the real world, there is NOOO way I can run outside if it is above 90 degrees. NO way. I would cry and have to call J to pick me up somewhere.
Lets go ahead and be real honest with each other- I did not do well. I have not run outside since spring and my body let me know that this decision was unexpected. But my body also loved it. As I started running, my thighs worked and as my muscles were waking up and they stared screaming "it's about time". My lungs stretched open and my heart pumped furiously to keep up and I loved it. And I hated it. I made it 3 miles and then almost threw up while waiting for the crosswalk to blink go on the way home.
At the "oh mercy alive- I'm about to throw up in front of all these cars" moment I thought to myself "WHY am I not doing this more". This is going to sound simply juvenile but I felt so good that at one point I even through my arms wide open while I jogged. Then I realized what I was doing and immediately pulled myself together. Only Jennifer Aniston and Lisa Kudrow can run like that and get away with it.
All day I felt better about myself- Like I was some magnificent Olympian for running (jogging) 3 miles. The getting up to do it- bummer, the motivating myself to do it- difficult, the actually working out part- painful, the post-work out feeling of accomplishment- TOTALLY WORTH IT.
Did I inspire you to set your alarm for 4:30 a.m. tomorrow? yeah..... I'm still trying to convince myself to do it again tomorrow too.

Faking it to Make it

I am no Rebecca Bloomwood but sometimes…..
I can’t tell if I am making it or faking it.
I do believe there is some validity to the silly mantra, “fake it till you make it.” While probably not ideal to pad your resume Bloomwood style, I am guilty of applying the fake it technique in a different subject area. When it comes to negative thinking (especially about yourself) sometimes you just have to find a way to make yourself stop. For my fellow strugglers, simply stopping doesn’t always cut it. You have to replace the thoughts and quickly take up all the extra room in your head with something else or negativity wiggles and squirm s its way back in.

Hence, start faking it. Some mornings I wake up feeling in a “poo on a stick” kind of mood. I can’t take my hair, my face, my acne, my outfit, my lack of skills at work, my, my…….. STOP. What a horrible way to start your day. This isn’t the mood I want to burden myself or the ones I love with. Spending my whole day obsessing over myself is not going to help. So I fake it. I force a smile on and go to work. In the car I dance extra crazy to a song I don’t even like on the radio. I greet everyone with a smile and hearty hello on the bus. I act like this is the best freakin day in my life. I say cheesy stuff to fill up my head like:
“I love my job!” “I am so blessed to have this job!”
No lie, I start listing positive traits about the people I work with. Ex: {Name} is so passionate about loving children, {Name} seems so sincere and down to earth, etc . This shifts my thoughts from me to others, but still the trick is to stay affirmative about others or you will find yourself back in a sour mood.

Before I know it, I am hanging a 10 o’clock medicine for a patient and sincerely investing in conversation with a parent. I am engaged in people, fostering relationships, doing my job the best I can, enjoying my job the best I can and have completely forgotten that I was faking it. I realize I have been cheerful and pleasant all morning. I don’t even know at what point the transition took place, but somewhere along the way I was no longer faking it, I was making it.

There are bad days too. Where you are tired, unfriendly, and really just want to simply get through the day. And that is ok. This isn’t really about BAD days. I am sharing how I a stop the Negative thought cycle from spinning all day. I am not advocating the idea to never be real with your emotions.

Some people will read this and think this makes me shallow or fake, or less deep and sincere. If that is you, I have a hunch that you are a) super hot and/or super confident :) so have never been sucked up into a Negative Tornado that has blown to pieces any possibility of a good day or b) probably misunderstanding me…. This is most likely due to the fact that I am not always the best at clearly getting out my point.

Without fear of sounding arrogant,(Ok that is a lie, I am a little worried that this will sound arrogant) I am proud of myself that these “poo on a stick” mornings do not come as often as they used to. I am sooo glad that they don’t.

Self Confi-dunce

A must read for us that have our struggles with confidence! Loved it...

Basically I love this website. I hesitated to share this link because this site is my secret obsession :) (co-founded by Zoey Deschanel how cannot it not be addicting)

but the article had to be shared.

Go...........

Self Confi-dunce

Embracing the "Betty" within

I have a 2 month break between jobs. This, for some, is a welcome rest. An anxiously awaited vacation to leisurely read, watch some desperate house wives, or sunbathe at the community pool. (I must admit I still am watching my share of horrible shows.) Immediately I start to stress. I begin to feel the need to "wife up". This pressure, I must stress, DOES NOT come from Jon; who keeps telling me to relax and simply watch The Bachelorette.

When I am working full time I have the ultimate excuse. I am not much for the household managing. I only do laundry once a week and I cook a maximum of two meals (usually crock-pot) a week at that is about it. And I do not feel guilty. I work hard at a stressful job and so does the hubs. Jon and I come home, grab dinner, and then cuddle on the couch watching Netflix or reading the rest of the evening. No pressure. We work hard, we relax.

When I am not working I feel the need to embrace the unfamiliar world of a stay-at-home-wife. "Everyone else is at work, I must be doing something!" my mind shouts to get me out of bed early.

Let me fill you on my new Betty Draper life:

1. Waking up early with the Husband for moral support. Does he really need me to cheer him on as he brushes his teeth or eats a Cliff bar? Probably not! But I feel great purpose here. :)

2. Work out appointments. I refer to working out as an appointment now. It makes me feel like I have something official going on in my day. "What are you doing today," one may ask. "Oh, I have an appointment at 9:00 a.m." (A crucial appointment to go to Zumba or bodypump with Amanda Scott my work-out buddy.)

3. Baking. I am determined to help Jon make friends at his new job by sending copious treats all the time. My husband will be the most popular one at work if I have anything to say about it! Two words: Cappuccino cookies! I am seriously stalking Joy the Baker!

4. Laundry. Daily. I go through Tide like a drug. It is very therapeutic to do this task. Such a sense of pride for getting that drawer full of plaid boxers. Once I start working I will drop this drug cold turkey though.

5. Vacuuming. I need there to be vacuum lines on the floor so that when Jon comes home it looks like I did something… haha. It’s quick easy and makes it look like I made some effort to clean the house.

6. Cooking. Not much though. Because the truth of the matter is we really enjoy eating out.

7. Visiting people. I will blog more about this later, but I have this rare opportunity to catch up with pals. Love that!

And I still find time to squeeze in some Bravo t.v. and good reading in! Now all I need are some cute A-line dresses and some petticoats to be good to go. I keep reminding myself to embrace this time. Enjoy the little things now because the 12 hr shifts are sneaking up around the corner. Who knows, by the end of this vacation I might be a self-declared Betty and Proud of it!