hello, friends. this is my new blog adventure, and i’m so very thrilled to finally be here. i feel like i shed an old layer of funky, heavy skin that was trapping me underneath the oppressiveness of it’s weight. so many things have happened between then and now, between a few years ago and today. i’ve transformed, evolved, mutated. i’m a completely different wife and mother, and i love myself for the very first time in my life.
i left the old blog behind because it wasn’t me anymore, and even the title was misrepresenting the intentions of my heart. desperately seeking silence, really? i’m desperately seeking the chaos of a house with three little people in it, the cries of a newborn, the yearning little voice of a mama-needy toddler. silence isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, you know. it’s fantastic in small doses, but too much of it and you can’t decipher the sweet peace and contentment that the voices of your loved ones create. when ezra turned 13 months old, my cycle returned. for many months-unbeknownst to me-i was suffering from a luteal phase defect that i believe was the result of ezra’s near-constant nursing. it wasn’t until four or five months into our trying-to-conceive journey that i made the realization and started taking homeopathic steps to remedy the LPD. i tried everything: a B-complex, Vitex, Dong Quai, wild yam root, natural progesterone cream. you name it, i tried it. but none of it was working, and month after month, i’d get to about eight or nine days post ovulation and aunt flo would return. it would break me, tear at me, rip my already diminishing hope to shreds. my desire to grow our family was so fierce, so all-encompassing, that i kept at it and had this “never give up” attitude. in the madness of my trying-to-conceive experience, i failed to see what was truly happening in both my mind and more importantly, my soul: i was trying to control something that was far beyond my control. my refusal to give up the fight, to hand the reins over to the One that could heal all hurts, was the reason that we weren’t getting pregnant.
and then in november, i quit. after peeing on the billionth pregnancy test of 2012 and seeing yet another negative, i literally and figuratively gave up. i threw out my ovulation predictor sticks, i threw out my charts, i tossed the basal thermometer in a deeply hidden corner of the bathroom closet. now, i had “given up” a few times in our TTC journey but never had i actually felt in my heart that i was giving up control. i mean, i’d say i was done but i’d still be peeing on OPKs the day after my period ended. but in november, my heart and head were completely done. there wasn’t a bone in my poor body that wasn’t oozing the freedom that came from truly letting go of this seemingly impossible dream. i started working out again, started thinking about possibly training for a half-marathon again. i started trying to purge the house of the clutter that was threatening to take over and make us a “hoarders” episode. i started cleaning out the cobwebs in the neglected places in my soul, the heart rooms that you don’t venture into for fear of never leaving again. i started a bible study and really started getting back into the Word. i started talking to my Savior, and really trying to listen for His answers and leadings.
two weeks ago, i had gone outside to get my mail and my neighbor was outside. she hugged ezra as he ran off to kick the ball in the front yard, and she asked me what was wrong with my face. i had no idea what she was talking about. she said it seemed like i had some sort of rash, a reaction of some sort that was causing my face to look, well, rashy. i told her i didn’t change anything recently and that maybe it was just a sunburn from walking so much lately. ezra and i went back inside and i text messaged my sister wives (there are four of us that are the best of friends and we call each other sister wives, mainly because we love each other so much and also because we each would take care of a different need in a polygamous marriage. wow, crazy how much we thought about this.) i told them what my neighbor had said, and added that to me, it didn’t look like a rash but that i had spray-tanned just my face and failed to blend the edges. it was so strange, my face had this weird brownish, reddish tinge to it that didn’t look like a rash OR a sunburn. one best friend, sarah, mentioned melasma (also called “pregnancy mask”) to which i responded with an emoticon of a smiley face that was hysterically laughing, say ing that there was no way in hell i was pregnant. my other bestie, rachel, said that she was bummed because she thought maybe this was my fun way of telling the girls that we were expecting. we had a good laugh about it and i put the phone down after a few more messages from the girls.
i went into the closet and searched for the one, lone pregnancy test that i knew i had stashed in my bathroom months and months before. i thought that maybe one day, i could take it after i’d already found out that i was pregnant and smile to see the two lines again. it was a dollar store test. i peed in a little tupperware cup and dropped some urine onto the little testing kit. ezra was wanting to nurse, so i went into the living room to nurse him for a second and grab my phone because i’d heard it yelling at me for some reason or another. well-aware of the fact that there was no possible way this test could be positive, i ventured back into the bathroom to ease the girls’ suspicions that i had a pregnancy mask.
i will never forget seeing those two lines.
i fell onto my knees in that bathroom and cried out to the Lord. i thanked God over and over and over again. ezra clapped. my whole body was shaking. i just kept saying, “oh my God, oh my God.” it was like a dream, nothing felt real. i felt like i had to be in some crazy dream. i ran to the store and grabbed a box of digital tests because when you want to know if you’re really pregnant, you pull out the big guns. i ran back inside, ezra on my hip, and tested the same urine that i had used for the dollar store test. it wasn’t one minute before that beautiful word flashed in my face: pregnant.
so this, my dear friends, is my new home for my new family. it’s a place where i’ll share my life with you: the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly, the painful and the joyous. i’m a bohemian mama with an old soul, and i’m so happy to begin this new journey here, with you all. happy holidays, and may the new year bring you all the miraculous and the magical that happens every single day if we’d only allow the eyes of our heart to recognize it.