That Magical Day

From the time some little girls realize that boys don’t actually have cooties, they start dreaming of their wedding day.

It’s a magical day where they get to be the princess and everyone waits hand and foot on them.  Beautiful dress.  Gorgeous shoes.  Amazing Flowers.  And of course, Prince Charming.

They get to pick their favorite colors and flowers and people to create a fantasy moment.  I know, for some, simple is perfect.  And for others, extravagant isn’t enough.

But for me – I was somewhere right in between.

I still remember as a young girl (in fact, I’m certain I have pictures SOMEWHERE but I’ll probably never see them again) being decked out in a wedding gown that was far too big for me and having a mock wedding, with a little boy whose mother was my mother’s best friend.  I’m certain I was just as bossy possessed just as many leadership skills then as I do now.

Somewhere along the way, that dream day became just that – a dream.  I started focusing more on a career and less on finding Mr. Right.  Boy, am I glad that God had other plans for me.

J&D kissing

Our wedding wasn’t quite as big as I thought it was going to be.  If I’m being honest, there’s a few things I’d change about it.  But there is ONE THING I am absolutely, positively sure of.  And that’s my husband.

It hasn’t always felt that way.  We have our moments where I’d really just rather he leave me alone – forever.  He knows EXACTLY what buttons to push and I’d love nothing less than to physically harm him in some way.  (Relax.  I never would.  I don’t think.)  And I’m sure he’s thought the EXACT same about me!

The one thing about my dream day that had always remained the same was that I knew how I wanted it to look.  I had ALWAYS wanted everything to be black and white – with only red roses.  And I wanted an evening wedding with twinkle lights and candles.  It really did turn out BEAUTIFUL!

Wedding Program Wedding Eiffel Tower Wedding Tables Wedding Cake Wedding Rings






We picked out ALL of our own music.  J even remixed a song for our walk down the aisle as a married couple.  It started as the Wedding March, and then faded into ….. Ready for this?  “Another One Bites The Dust”.  Yup.  We were that couple.  I loved hearing the shocked gasps turn into laughter as people realized that it wasn’t just the music messing up, but rather us expressing our personalities the best way we knew how.

One of my very good friends from high school was the photographer.  We have some AMAZING pictures from the wedding.

You May Kiss The Bride

I had so many people tell me “Make SURE you video record the ceremony!!  Everything will go so fast that you won’t remember it and you will want to see it someday!!”  So, I checked many different places out.  In the end, I was convinced to let some very long-time family friends record it for us.  We’ve known them forever, what could go wrong?

Imagine my disappointment as we fast-forward (see what I did there?) two and a half years later and not only am I still without a wedding video but FINALLY received a response to my multiple requests stating that they don’t even own the camera anymore and that the video was on the internal memory and never saved to a disc……….  That’s earth-shattering stuff to me.  I’ve been sick to my stomach all day.

You know how when someone loses one of their senses, all of their other senses are heightened?  I kind of feel like that’s what infertility has been for me.

It’s a loss.  A devastating, emotional, heartbreaking, everyday loss.  That reminds me that life is precious.

While longing for what I don’t have and mourning it, it reminds me to look at what I DO have and be grateful for it.

While our friends and families attended the wedding (of which I have no recording),  we are attending the marriage.

He still dances with me in the kitchen while I’m cooking dinner.

He still looks at me sometimes like I’m the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

He still tells me he loves me at the most random moments of the day.

He still makes me laugh at some of the most inappropriate moments.

So while we may have empty arms, we have full hearts.  And it all started on that magical day.

J&D hugging


NOT the Best Day Ever

Well, the suspense was short-lived.

Patience not being my strong suit, I checked my email first thing upon waking up this morning only to find an email from the foundation we applied through. I found this…


I know God knows. I know His plans are best. I know in my heart that we will be parents. I’m just not sure how.

Today will be hard – as will many days after – but thankfully I have an amazingly supportive husband and great friends that are feeling my pain with me and we will continue to be surrounded by encouragement and love.

I felt pretty peaceful after reading it. Then as I read my devotional this morning, I was reminded that God wants me to fully trust in Him. So, I’m going to do that. I just wish it didn’t so often feel like I’m being left behind…

So, it may not be the best day ever, but it’s not the worst either.


Good Friday. Great Sunday.

Today is Good Friday.

The day that made Easter Sunday possible.

Without the pain and heartbreak, we wouldn’t have hope and expectation and excitement.

Christ knew what He was headed towards.  He knew that He would suffer unbearable pain and a brutal death.  He even pled for it not to happen.

But He knew.  He knew it was His Father’s Will.  He knew our eternal lives depended on it.  So He bore it.

He took the whips.  He took the crowns.  He took the nails.  He thirst.  He breathed his last painful breath, and then turned his Spirit over and died.

three crosses

His mother wept.  The soldiers mocked.  The criminals argued.  The earth shook.

And then they wrapped Him in clothes and placed Him in a guarded tomb.

For days, His followers and family mourned and grieved.  And then…

The tomb was empty.  He’d risen just like He said He would.

empty tomb

What a beautiful display of love.  That He thought of me as He hung on that cross and bore a pain that is unimaginable.

Unspeakable love.  Unthinkable mercy.  Unfathomable grace.

GRACEGod’s Riches At Christ’s Expense.

We can’t earn it, it’s already ours.  Paid for by the sacrifice of a Son for the world.  Paid for by the blood of Someone that loved us so much that He suffered torture and death.

And then He rose again on that beautiful Sunday.

It’s the hope of Sunday that gives us strength to carry on.  To fight battles that we feel we are losing.  To trust our Father who loves us to bless us as He sees fit.  To give us a peace that passes understanding and a joy that comes in the morning.

It was Good Friday that gave us a Great Sunday.



Fear, Meet Hope.

I follow quite a few blogs on here.  Honest moment:  I, sadly, don’t always get the chance to read every single blog that comes across my feed.  Even more honest moment:  I sometimes skip past some intentionally. *gasp*  I know, I know.  That’s terrible of me.  Let me explain.  This journey is HARD.  I’ve not been on it as long as most of the blogs that I follow or even as long as some of the friends I know personally.  But pregnancy announcements turn me into this bitter, judgmental person that I would just rather not deal with.  So, sometimes, SOMETIMES I skip past those.  But then…  I sit and wonder “what does it feel like?”  “how did they know?”  “what are their dr’s saying?”  And I go back and read them.


In the last couple weeks, however, I’ve realized another reason why I skip past them.  It’s another four letter word.  FEAR.  Fear that I will never get to experience ‘those’ feelings.  Fear that I will never be able to give my husband a piece of him and I.  Fear that I’ll never again see that second pink line, or that I’ll never see an ultrasound with a tiny, little life playing the starring role.  And then, as I log in to read those happy announcements, it becomes something different.  Sad retractions of pain and heartache.  Another angel given their wings too soon.  Fear turns inward once again.  Fear that I may never again be able to carry a child.  Fear that I’ll hear those words from my OB again.  Fear that I’ll have to tell my husband and those close to me of a loss.  Fear that I’ll never get to tell our child about how much our Heavenly Father loves them.  And my heart breaks.

dear Lord

As selfish and ‘me, me, me’ as it all sounds, my heart also breaks for each of those beautiful, deserving women.  Women that go without in order to touch their dreams, even if only for a moment.  Women that sacrifice small pleasures for a chance at eternal happiness.  Women that battle heartache and pain, and then dust themselves off to do it all over again.  And I only hope that one day I will be worthy of being in that category.

Conversations in this house are funny.  Usually, it’s one of us trying to find a new, fun way to irritate the other.  Some days, there’s not much talking.  Some days there’s TOO much talking.  Some days there’s crying.  And other days I cry.  Just kidding, I never cry.  Ok, maybe once or twice.  Some days we yell, and other days we get to the heart of an issue and are able to talk about it lovingly and with great understanding.  Today was one of those days.  I’ve packed on some serious pounds in the last year or so with all the hormones.  I’ve said it before, I HATE what I see when I look in the mirror.  For some odd reason, my husband still thinks I’m beautiful.  And not just a shut-up-I-think-you-look-fine kinda beautiful as I complain about the fact that yoga pants are my wardrobe anymore.  But an I-just-want-to-touch-you-when-I’m-near-you kinda beautiful.  I contribute it to the fact that we paid money for glasses that he never wears.  But there is something to be said for a man who loves a woman that much.  And for a woman that doesn’t appreciate it.  Glad I’m not her!

Fear has really become a big part of my life lately.  I pretty much hate it.  But I always live through it.  I’ve been terrified of this month.  Heck, we are only 6 days into it, so I’m still a little scared.  I’m afraid of what will happen.  I’m afraid of what won’t happen.  Sometimes, I don’t trust God enough.  I just give him the crumbs after I’m done chewing my problems for a while.  And then, even through the hardest, darkest, most broken moments, He reminds me that He is there.  And He is capable.  New Years Day I was pretty sick.  Pneumonia hit me pretty hard.  I’d spent most of the day and the day before in bed sleeping.  I decided that I’d had enough and that we were going to J’s parent’s house for dinner to spend the last little bit of time with family that was in from out-of-town.  And as we left, the sky was just AH-MAY-ZING!!  I’m talking gorgeous, breath-taking, color changing amazing!!  Here I am, afraid of January and God is reminding me that He’s still in charge.  He showed me in a BIG way!

Sunset on Taylorsville Lake (captured by me)

Sunset on Taylorsville Lake (captured by me)

So many people talk about one word that they make their ‘word’ for the new year.  I won’t choose just one word, because there really is no one word that can define the mess that is me.  However, there is one word that every woman on the TTC journey can closely identify with.  It’s another four letter word.  HOPE.  I’ll take that over fear any day of the week.

fear meet hope