Footsteps for Fertility 5K

Dear Family and Friends,

Most of you probably are aware that Nathan and I have been trying to conceive, but may not be aware that this journey has been a three year struggle. We’ve waited, prayed, hoped, taken various medications, and have undergone surgery. We’ve been to two fertility doctors and just this year received a disheartening diagnosis. It would be an understatement to say that this journey has been difficult and disappointing.

This year we’ll be faced with a heart-wrenching decision to end our pursuit in conceiving naturally and begin looking at other options that might be available. Before we go down that path, we will be participating in the Footsteps for Fertility 5k.

It takes place September 25, 2015 at 6pm in Eisenhower Park. We have created a team (Team Nerd Herd ) during the registration process so that our friends and family can participate with us.

It would mean the world to us if everyone would join us that evening to walk or run for the baby we hold in our hearts. With every registration each person will receive one complimentary ticket that may be entered for us to possibly be awarded a fertility grant. The process of awarding the grant is by random selection, but regardless of the outcome having the support of our friends and family is the most important award we could ever receive.

If you are out of town, busy that night, or dislike walking/running for a 5k you can still support us by taking part in the “Sleep-in for Fertility” option. And even though you are not participating in the event you will still receive a registration packet which will include a ticket for the fertility grant.  

To support us all you need to do is go to http://footstepsforfertility.org/events and register for the event in Texas, our team name is Team Nerd Herd. If you have any questions please feel free to ask either Nathan or myself.

We love every single one of you and thank you for your prayers and love.

Much love,

Mal and Nathan

Mother's Day is coming up very quickly and I am sitting in another batch of emotions from another failed pregnancy attempt. 

Today I was thinking once again about how this might be my new reality. The reality where I never get pregnant and never get to experience everything I've dreamed of. The reality of where my friends will get pregnant and have babies and I'll have to be "happy" for them. The reality of those uncomfortable conversations that result in the "I'm pregnant and I didn't want you to find out from somewhere else.". The reality where all my sister-in-laws have had and are having the experience of providing grandchildren to the grandparents.  The reality of when family pictures are taken there are new babies every time except for mine. 

I don't like these realities. 

They just make me hurt inside. 

I want a happier reality.

Maybe someday I'll get a better reality, but until then these are the only realities in front of me. 

TWLOHA's Run For It 5k

This past Saturday I completed TWLOHA's "Run For It 5k". The actual 5k takes place in Florida, but thankfully they know not everyone can make it over there for one day so they facilitate a virtual 5k for everyone to participate in their own hometown.

I've been walking and working on running these past two months.  The walking part has been easy for me, but the running has been pure evil. I hate it. Either my legs give out on me or my lungs. After a month of trying to get a slow run for just 0.5mi, I finally did it! Well, just for one day. Everyday after that I couldn't seem to get the endurance back up. It's been exhausting and frustrating and discouraging, but I keep working on it.

The day of the race I woke up at 7:30am, hoping that it wouldn't be raining during my walk/run. I crawled out of bed tired and blurry eyed from falling asleep at 3am, slipped into my clothes, pulled on my shoes and stretched. I selected my "You Can Do It!" playlist and quietly exited the house.

It seemed to be a sleepy morning for everyone that Saturday. Usually there are folks out mowing their lawns or kids playing outside, but the whole time I was out there I saw maybe two cars driving by and one person grabbing their mail. With the cool, cloudy weather it felt mysteriously enchanting.

That day I decided to push myself and really run like I hadn't run before. For every two to three minutes I walked I would need to run for exactly one minute. It wasn't easy, but I did it regardless. Before I knew it, I had hit the 3.1mi mark at 42 minutes! I marked it down and kept going... I wanted to see if I could make it to 4 miles. As I rounded the corner on the last street, I looked up at the big hill (more like mountain!) I had to go over before I could run downhill straight to our house.

Each step got harder to take and my breathing wasn't as well regulated as I had been maintaining it so far. "Afterlife" by Ingrid Michelson came on and tears formed in my eyes. I was almost done. I had done the race and had kept going. My body had carried me this far and was going up the big, dreaded hill without faltering. The same body that had accomplished this so well was the same body that is dealing with infertility. This body of mine suffers a heartbreaking loss every month without fail.  This body that has a 6% chance of getting pregnant is the same body that found the strength to run bravely. How is it possible? I was thankful for what it could do in that moment and grieving what it hasn't been able to do these past three years.

That day I was running for two things: my (and other women's) journey with Infertility and my journey with self-harm. Two very big things that I have been fighting.

In those 4 miles I wasn't able to suddenly get pregnant or have absolutely no desire to hurt myself, but in those 4 miles I was able to remember that the fight to stay alive was worth fighting.

This year I'm going to try fighting for me. I have a 10k, another 5k, and a half marathon to complete this year. And in July, I'll be purchasing my ticket to participate in Disney's Princess 10k for next year. There is so much emotionally tangled with the Disney one. This fight is hard and it's exhausting and most of the time I have to struggle to believe that I am not fighting a losing battle. One way I'm "guaranteeing" my entry into next year is to plan something big, different, and exciting. Disney's Princess 10k is perfect for that.

I don't know what the rest of this year will look like, but I know that I'm a little stronger and I'm just trying to take it one day, one race at a time. It's all I can do right now and it'll have to be enough.

Some of My Favorite Things

26. Watching Hallmark Christmas movies while my dogs are keeping me warm

27. Wrapping Christmas presents

28. Watching Doctor Who with Josie

29. Preparing my Christmas Eve dinner menu

30. Turning on all the Christmas lights

31. Doing random acts of kindness for people

32. Leggings

33. Being able to curl my hair with a straighter (big accomplishment for someone like me!)

34. White Chili

35. My "Be Yourself Unless You Can Be A Unicorn" phone case

36. The smell of Christmas trees

37. Playing Super Mario Bros. with Nate

Griefsgiving

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I know most people celebrate and acknowledge this holiday, but I've never really understood why. It's a food holiday. It's the day when all your family gets together and pigs out on good (and sometimes strange looking) food. Some families even gather around the TV to watch football. But at the core of this holiday it's always about the delicious food coma.

Oh.
And giving thanks.

I always hated that moment right before the prayer over the food where everyone was required to go around and say what they were most thankful for this year. We give thanks or as I like to call it: Humble Bragging.

Now I don't want to take away from the people who actually are giving thanks for the good in their life. Their genuine gratefulness while sitting in the tension of life is always a breath of fresh air, but most of the time I find myself listening to the "truly blessed' going on and on about how "thankful" they are for this thing and that thing and how much they have to brag be thankful for this year. And of course we all know if it's said with a sweet smile and a "Praise Jesus" it's not at all bragging.

I'm curious about what it would look like to have a Griefsgiving instead of a Thanksgiving.

Haha. I know, it's not a good "happy holiday" name and really, who wants to be apart of that lame, tear filled holiday.

Well.... I kinda do.

I'd like to be apart of a circle where we aren't desperately grabbing onto things to "feel" thankful for or humble bragging. A safe, circle with real people with real problems who say "This year has been a real shit storm because of... And today I am thankful that I didn't scream at my wife/husband/kids/dogs/cats/hamsters, or reduce myself into a pile of shameful lies about my body, or drink myself into oblivion or cut myself."

How would it be to stand in a circle where we can literally be thankful for the huge life-changing moments we  have, but don't share with people for fear of revealing our dark secrets and having judgement passed on us.

A friend of mine texted me this past week and asked me how gratitude felt amidst my grief and sorrow.

I sat staring at the message for awhile surprised by the question. I wasn't surprised that she had asked the question...she's one of the few people who would be brave enough to ask that question. It was surprising because of how kind that question felt to my heart. Here amidst all this shit of infertility and grief and one beautiful person stood up in that mess and offered my heart a chance to breathe. A brilliant glimmer of kindness. Someone had been loving enough to address the elephant in the room.

I responded that while I knew that there were things to be grateful for, it all felt forced and fake when I try to name anything.  

Forced and Fake.

I don't think that's what giving thanks is supposed to look like and yet all too often it does. I feel like I can't stand up and say that I am thankful that I had the energy to clean the house, or didn't pressure myself about the future or what the holidays are supposed to look like, or that my battle with self-harm isn't winning, or that I am even breathing at this very second because I don't want to die. But guess what? That's exactly what I am thankful for this year. Those things are real and brutally raw and honest.

Infertility has stolen so much from me these past couple years. My heart breaks every freaking day. I can't go to the mall and not run back into my car sobbing because I saw a beautiful mother holding her tiny baby. I struggle every day with fighting for my life, finding worth in myself, and figuring out what is real and true. It's a battle I was sure I would lose and yet, somehow, I'm still here.

So while everyone celebrates their Thanskgiving, me and my husband will be wrapping our arms around each other, taking a deep breath before being surrounded by everything our hearts ache for and we'll be having a private Griefsgiving in our hearts.

It might not catch on as a real holiday, but if you want to sit in the grief and be genuinely honest I'll be here today, tomorrow, and hopefully every day after that. We'll give a tearful thanks for what's been lost and what we're fighting for today.

What I Grieve Every Day Because Of Infertility:

Seeing a positive pregnancy stick

Telling N that I'm pregnant

Hearing my baby's heart beat for the first time

Feeling N hold my hand while we look at our baby for the first time

Having a sonogram that showed us a tiny baby growing inside of me

Getting lots of sonogram pictures to post on the fridge and one in a frame for our wall

Finding out the sex of the baby

Sharing the news with all of our families

Picking out new names for the baby or using the ones we already have in mind

Having the cliche pregnancy announcement pictures taken. I always liked the one with the parent's shoes and then the tiny little shoes with the "coming soon" underneath.

Going baby shopping

Planning a nursery for the room upstairs

Dragging my pregnant body to baby showers

Feeling my baby move inside of me

Being annoyed that people feel it's okay to touch my pregnant belly without asking

People asking me about my pregnancy

Getting to talk about being pregnant

Capturing each month of my pregnancy in cute pictures

Deciding whether to breast feed or use formula

Holding my baby inside of my body for 9 months

Having N touch and talk to my big belly

Just being pregnant and all that it involves physically

Lack of sleep

Going to classes

Knowing that my family has all gathered together in the waiting room while I'm in labor

Labor

Holding my baby for the first time

The Fight For Life...

Choosing life and fighting to stay with that choice is hard. It's a battle that never seems to find an end.

In the past 2 years I've fought for different things. I've fought to dream, hope, believe, and trust. I've fought to keep going with trying to get pregnant even when there were no positive results. I've fought to stay calm during scary procedures and surgery. And finally I had to choose to fight for me. Fight to stay alive. I've had to put dreams in a cardboard box and place them in the storage room of my mind so that I can fight for life and not death.

I've put a lot of pressure on myself these past two months to heal quickly. I've fought against my grief and pain so that I can "get a grip" and "cope" better. And then I fought to stop numbing out to every single goddamn thing so that I can name truth about how I am really feeling. 

It's just one big fight that never ends. 

And all I can think about is how tired I am. 

How tired I am of fighting....especially when I have to fight for good things. 

N always reminds me how strong I am...that I've been fighting a long time...and I'm still here. 

I've been fighting in my late twenties to stay alive and not self harm. 

I've been fighting since my mid/late twenties to get pregnant. 

I've been fighting since my early twenties to deal my childhood/teenage baggage and fight the glorious fight of just being who I am. 

I was fighting in my late teens to believe that fairy tales did exist even though I was scared, lonely, naive, and just got a guy who wanted to get off and use me. 

I was fighting since my late teens to stay alive and not take the final exit. It had to get better, right? 

I was fighting in my late teens with an eating disorder, self-harming, and extreme self-contempt. 

I was fighting my whole childhood/teenage years to know if I was really loved and worth anything. 

I was fighting my whole childhood/teenage years with knowing I deserved to be seen and noticed and respected even thought no one else seemed to think that. 

I fought my whole childhood/teenage years to keep from drowning in the noise and chaos of parents who were fighting and screaming constantly. 

I was fighting when I was a little bitty girl to keep from remembering something horrible and traumatic that occurred because everyone trusted this person to be alone with me. 

I was fighting when I was born to stay alive and not die in NICU. 

My whole life has felt like one fight after another. Since the day I came into this world I have been fighting. And more often then not I wonder whether it's worth it to keep fighting. 

My heart is tired and broken, but somehow it's still alive and beating. 

It's strange. 

And I guess astounding.