My Journey To Motherhood

I perused Facebook not too long ago and saw many of my friends sharing their struggles in trying to start a family.  It seems not too long ago that I was right there along side you.  It was then that I realized I never shared the long road Taylor and I had to endure to become parents.  

To start, I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome at 16.  It's a very common disorder but basically what it means is that there are cysts in the ovaries which effect the hormones.  For me, it results in the absence of a menstrual cycle.  It genetic in my family and because of this I was told that it would be very unlikely for me to conceive a child.  I was given birth control to balance out my hormones and hopefully regulate my periods. 

Fast forward 10 years just before my 2 year wedding anniversary.  I had already experienced one miscarriage about a year prior, which was kind of a relief as we were in no position to be parents.  Taylor and I had an agreement when we got married that we would wait at least two years after we were married and had insurance.    So this was the year to start considering our options.  It was at that time that a good friend of mine, Gabi, and her grandmother told me about a doctor in Spanish Fork that specialized in bio-identical hormones.  Not knowing at all what that meant, they explained that rather than taking awful and sometimes hazardous hormone pills, he was able to pinpoint what hormones were deficient and prescribe those exact hormones that your body naturally produces.  She told me his story, which in short can be found here.

So after some deliberating with Taylor, we thought, why the heck not.  Best decision we ever made.  Dr. Lundell did some blood work and discovered that my hormone levels were post-menopausal.  Think about that for a second.  A 26 year old woman had hormone levels indicating she had already gone through menopause.  Even if I were to get pregnant, I would never be able to carry to full term because my body doesn't produce the hormones to do so, as indicated by my previous miscarriage.    So he prescribed me some progesterone which is the hormone needed to maintain a pregnancy.  I had to coordinate it with my cycle, off while on my period and on while ovulating.  I learned so much about my body.  After a month (and right on our 2nd anniversary), I was pregnant. 

The joy however, was short lived.  At approximately 8 weeks I got bronchitis and was stressed from a crazy work schedule and terrible boss.  That miscarriage was a huge blow.  Unlike the first one, this pregnancy was planned.  We worked for it.  At that point, I lost all hope.  Paired with losing the job that in my personal opinion, resulted in the miscarriage, I was a mess. 

A few months later my dear friend Cyndi and I were at a women's expo in Sandy, UT.  As we were leaving Cyndi turned to me and pointed out a booth that she thought I should check out.  It was the University of Utah and they were looking for women who had recently had a miscarriage (or multiple) to participate in a study called E.A.G.E.R. (Effects of Aspirin on Gestation and Reproduction).   Basically they were testing the effects of low-dose aspirin during gestation on the reproductive organs.  The belief was that low doses of aspirin would help generate blood flow to the uterus and ovaries to create a more habitable environment to conceive. 

Again, I talked it over with Taylor and we thought "This is it.  Our last shot to do this before resorting to more expensive and extreme measures".  Unsure if we'd even be able to get into the program, we felt inspired to try. 

I spoke with several nurses in the study.  I wanted to fully understand what would take place.  Daily ovulation tests with ClearBlue Easy, daily pill taking (the study medicine & folic acid), and some record keeping.  Simple enough.  We signed up, got in and then we played the waiting game.  Not being on birth control meant no regular periods.  I could only go by my previous cycles and they were so irregular that I wasn't sure.   But after a month of taking the "aspirin" (cause you don't know if you have the aspirin or the placebo), I had a peak ovulation.  I waited and waited for my period, not sure if it would come or not.  Until finally, I was late.  And there were two lines on the pregnancy test.  It worked. 

Of course I was skeptical and didn't want to get my hopes up.  I still had a lack of progesterone working against me.   But Dr. Lundell happily prescribed the progesterone again after making sure it was safe to take with the aspirin and instructing me to only take it during the first trimester. 

The rest is history.  I carried to term and had a healthy baby boy, as evidenced by my plastered Facebook profile.  It was certainly stressful, and frustrating, and filled with doubt.  But I'm so grateful for the experience.  I value my son more than I ever thought possible.  He is worth everything it took to get him here. 

So I hope this helps some of you.  I know that my story isn't the same for everyone else.  I hope that this will give you some options that may not have been considered before.  And I truly hope that you know that you're not alone.    That though the road seems long and dark, there are people to help you.  To guide you and even carry you.  And I know that it hurts to talk about sometimes.  But if ever you do need to talk, I'm happy to listen.

I'm a Mom.

This is just a compilation of my feelings and thoughts over the past couple of weeks.  There's no real structure to this.  Just chalk it up to the ramblings of a sleep deprived new mother.  Alright, here goes. 


I was not so naive as to believe that my life wasn't going to change once I had my son.  But I can honestly say that I did not expect the onslaught of emotions that accompanied his arrival.  The joy and love I felt? Sure. But feeling sick with worry and lack of sleep just to make sure he was breathing? Not so much.  And it wasn't just that.  There was the fear of how I was going to still provide for him financially. The crippling thought that I wasn't going to be able to care for him and be what he needed.  I dreaded the moment our family returned to their everyday lives and left me alone to care for this fragile person. I'm not qualified, ill-informed and too selfish to be a parent.
I had tried so hard to squash those fears before I gave birth.  I received wonderful words of encouragement and comfort from friends and family. But when I woke up the day that we were to be dismissed from the hospital, reality hit me.  This was happening. Beyond those sliding glass doors awaited my new life as a parent.  A permanent role and title.  His life now lay in my hands and there was no going back.  My fear came back 10 fold and with reinforcements.
But even with all that I lack, I love him more than anything. More than I thought was possible.  More than myself.  So I go without sleep, without a shower, and tough out the pain of recovery because there's nothing I wouldn't do for him. His needs come before mine.  I found that its that love that helps drive me to do my best. Because he deserves my best.  Technically, he is my best.
He's perfect. I've made so many mistakes that it seemed improbable that I could be capable of creating anything so pure.  And yet, here he is. He is without blemish or flaw. He's my miracle and embodiment of faith.
I never felt more human than on Daniels second night of being at home. That whole day the emotions were building up until finally I broke.  I crumbled under the weight of my vulnerability.  I realized that in his tiny little hands, this beautiful baby boy held my world.  I believe myself to be a fairly cautious person.  I don't give many people the opportunity to hurt me.  I don't like handing over any portion of control. So that night as I lay in bed, I felt small and helpless.  I felt weak.  If anything happened to Daniel, that would be the end of me.  Yet another thought that terrifies me.  


So that's were I stand right now.  And really to sum it all up, I'm afraid of failing.  And for me, failure means the end of my whole world.  But I'm trying to enjoy the ride which is easier to do during the day when I can occupy my mind with work or pointless tv.  
On a happier note, you really ought to see this kid.  He's pretty much amazing.  

Little Reminders

This past week has been a rather difficult one for many different reasons.  When things get tough in my life my immediate instinct is to run. Well, this time running wasn't an option, at least it wasn't the best option.  It's during these times that I forget what's been laid out for me, the help that's available if only I ask for it.   Well today I found something that I wrote at the beginning of the year that could've been useful had I remembered it sooner. It was a reminder that I made myself specifically for times like this (silly me).  I kinda just felt like sharing it cause we all can use reminders.  Pretty much everyone that reads my blog knows that I'm LDS, so the foundation of this is based upon gospel principles that I sometimes forget to apply in my life. 

February 27th, 2011
Don't forget how much your Father in Heaven loves you.  Remember the importance you have in His plan.  During times of trial, remember to turn to Him.  Seek His counsel in the scriptures and He will guide and comfort you. 
Have patience and faith in the Lord.  Find peace in knowing that you are not alone.  Your Savior, Jesus Christ, atoned not just for you sins but for your trials, discomforts, and afflictions.  As your elder brother, he wants to protect you from the woes and hardships of the world.  All He asks is that you come unto Him.
Strive for the blessings of the temple and remember the covenants you made there.  Know that even when all that life throws at you weighs you down, the temple is your refuge.  There, you can feel the spirit of God and commune with Him without disruption.
Remember how grateful you are to have a home where there is a priesthood holder.  Be thankful for and honor that priesthood.  Having grown up in a home without it, you know the difference it makes in your life.  Turn to the priesthood, when you feel it necessary, for counsel and blessings. 


It's not the greatest reminder in the world, but it's what I needed.  Sometimes the tide comes at you so fast that you don't see the wave as it drags you under.  And as I'm panicking and struggling to break the surface to get air, I forget that I need to relax and wait.  I get so caught up in my trials, trying to get passed them, that I forget the one thing that will help me. 
One of my favorite churchy songs (I don't listen to a lot of them) is called He Will Not Fail You by Jenny Phillips.  I just love these particular lyrics as it talks about when Jesus calls Peter to walk out onto the water. 

Like a ship that’s worn
With sails so torn
Drifting out to sea
The wind is blowing in
And you’re tossed again
Is it time to leave behind the ship
And walk to Him?

Do you believe
That the seas
Will hold your feet
If you go?
Close your eyes
Feel Him inside
Walk to what you know is true
And He will not fail you




Remember (and I say this especially to myself) that even with the torrential rains pouring down upon you causing you to sway and sink, the Lord can bring peace and comfort in your life. We just have to go to Him and trust that He will do what He has promised to do. And I know without a doubt that He'll never let us down. 

A Small Piece Of My Mind

It shouldn't really come as a shocker that I'm a Black woman.  (*gasp!) Yes, I know I said Black and not African-American.  That's because, I don't really know where my ancestors came from and there's nothing wrong with saying 'Black'.
I learned a long time ago who I am and where I came from.  For as long I can remember, My Grandma Terry told me that I was different but that I was just like everyone else.  Different in the sense that I had two wonderful cultures that make me...me.  And the same as everyone else because at the time, even though there weren't very many others (and I mean, HARDLY any others) that were mixed like me didn't mean that I wasn't capable of doing amazing things.
I love my Grandma so much.  She was one of the few people who really accepted me and thought I was beautiful.  And I wasn't beautiful just because I was her Grand-daughter, but because of my heritage too.  My  Grandma is one of those rare people who is so incredibly accepting of everyone.  And I mean, EVERYONE.  I have so many aunts, uncles, cousins, and grand-parents because once she lets you in, you're family.  I'm the only kid I know that has 11 grandparents.  Anyways, I'm getting carried away.
Grandma Terry began teaching me at a very young age about Black Heritage.  And she didn't do it by showing me rap videos or things that many of us now associate with Black culture.  She told me all about the wonderful things that Black people had accomplished over the past two-hundred years.  From Harriet Tubman and Fredrick Douglas to Madame CJ Walker and Thurgood Marshall.  She taught me that Martin Luther King, Jr. was not just a man with a dream, but a man who had hope and worked to make that dream a reality.
All growing up, I felt like I had to prove myself in order to be recognized as a black person.  I had wear my hair a certain way, wear certain clothes and talk a certain way.  I look back and feel ashamed at who I thought a black person needed to be.
Some years ago, my Aunt Angie passed away and though I didn't know her for very long, I cherish the examples she set.  She exemplified a brilliant and beautiful black woman.  A woman who holds integrity and knows her divine nature.  My Aunt Angie rejoiced in being a daughter of God.  My memory of her shines bright as woman who loved who she was, where she came from, and what she accomplished as a wife and mother.
My hope for the upcoming generations, and even many of the people of mine, is that they KNOW who they are, regardless of ethnicity. That they appreciate the sacrifices made for them and the hardships that their ancestors endured.  But most of all, that they don't take for granted the foundation that was built for them.  That they take advantage of all that has been provided for them and do something great.  Do something that lets those that came before us would be proud of.  Because all that they did, they didn't do it for themselves.  They did it for us.
I'm so grateful for the women in my life that nurtured and guided me.  And taught me these incredibly valuable lessons even when I was too hard-headed to listen.
I am a Black woman and I could never be ashamed of that.

Beauty Isn't A Gift, It's A Complex

No And She Whispered posters were actually harmed during the filming of this blog. 

Genre Smonrah

Written on March 20, 2010 @ Murray Theatre during Copelands' Farewell Tour. 


The best thing about music is that it transends everything. Race, language barriers, religion, even our own personal affiliations. Genres aside, music can reach our very core and bring out the most raw and incredible emotions. Often times they are emotions we've never experienced.  You can be driving down the road listening to the radio when all of the sudden a song comes on and touches us.  Our lives don't exactly mirror the lyrics of the song, but even without experiencing those things...it effects us.  Then again, it's amazing to me the different songs that have defined stepping stones through out my life. They've documented the person I've become, a continual progression.
Even as I write this, I'm standing at a concert listening to a band that I've never heard of before but will forever be ingrained into my memory.  It's hard to resist the influx of emotion that's emitted from their instruments, their melody, their lyrics.  Chandale shares the quote "music is what feelings sound like" (author unknown to me).  I begin to understand the artist and, in turn, something deeper about myself. I get the feeling that I got the better end of the deal with my $20 admission price.  Going to shows, it's therapy, that's what it is for me. Doesn't matter the artist, the genre, even the crowd...here I feel healed from the world. Even in the midst of an insane mosh pit, I can't help but feel the frustrations seep from me and onto the floor.  The artist and I make a connection, they put my thoughts on paper in a way that I never could. Plus I get the benefit of being able to see their face and what the music means to them.  I  love that moment when you watch an artist and their eyes just close.  There could be a number of different reasons why, but I like to think it's because that riff, that line, that beat, whatever it is in the song...it means something.  They love their music.  It's not just for a paycheck, it's because they honestly love and care about what they do.  They love music just as much as I do.  Again...we're connected.

Written on March 22, 2010


Many years ago, I was at a church function where we had kind of like an Open Mic night.  A girl named Jessie Crystal sang the song "California" by Copeland and thus began my obsession with them.  From that moment on that song has been my comfort.  In 2005 I had the opportunity to see them for the first time and I was BEYOND excited, dragging one of my best friends, Jace, with me just to have a chance to hear that ONE song live.  (Their other songs are just as incredible btw.)  But they never played it.  I left the show entertained but not fulfilled.  It took 5 years to get the opportunity to see them again, as they finally made their way to Salt Lake City.  On Saturday night, my dream came true.  They played "California" and it was by far one of the best concert experiences I've ever had.  And just to properly document the occasion, I recorded it.  It's not the best quality, but it's proof and a reminder that I was there. I would have been satisfied leaving the venue after that one song, BUT to add the cherry to the cake, I met the lead singer, got his autograph and a picture with him.  And of course I couldn't properly say goodbye without thanking him for the brilliant music that I've enjoyed over the years.  But this just exemplifies how important music is to me.  It defines me, regardless of the genre.  Just as I don't label people for what they are, I don't label music by what it is.  Music is music, and if you hear something you like then why does it matter if it's outside of your "usual" taste?  


Anywho...I've ranted enough.  Now it's time to make some recommendations.  I want you to check out these four amazing bands....Deas Vail, Person L, I Can Make A Mess Like Nobody's Business (especially for The Early November fans), and of course Copeland.  

Sometimes Life Is Just "Blah"...

These past couple weeks have been really rough.  For no real reason in particular just haven't been feeling myself.  Little things set me off and all of the sudden I hate the world and nearly everyone in it.  It's days like that when I really miss home, especially my momma and Delli.  I was ranting to Dell last night and she asked "Is that really what you're upset about?  Is there more?", when Taylor asks that question I yell and get even more upset at him, when she asks...I bawl.  It's not that T doesn't want to help, I think it's more that he thinks I'm trying to find a reason to mad or an excuse to be offended.  Dell understands that sometimes things just rub you the wrong way and it effects you more than it normally would. 
One of the things that have been bothering me is that Taylor and I really want to start a family.  For a long while I wasn't ready to think about that.  At the time, it wasn't an option.  We were newly married and still adjusting to that lifestyle (heck, we still are).  But I'm a firm believer that couples should try and wait at least a year before having kids.  I wasn't ready to learn how to be a mom without first learning how to be a wife.  Well, I'm just now beginning to feel like I'm ready to be a mom.  Mostly that's my age talking, being 25 going on 26 in a few short months doesn't do well for my sanity when it comes to motherhood.  First off, let me say that Taylor and I haven't entirely TRIED having a baby yet either.  However, when talking to Dell last night, I admitted to her that I've been getting the feeling that I won't be able to get pregnant.  I came to grips with that (at least I thought) years ago when I was diagnosed with Polysistic Ovarian Syndrome.  Needless to say, this was just one of a few reasons for my breakdown last night.  (*Note...I know in my heart that Taylor and I will have kids.  I don't doubt that that's what the Lord has in store for us.  It's just a matter of how that I've been having issues with.)
I also keep getting the feeling that all the things that I've ever wanted to do in my life, I'll never be able to do.  T and I never got a honeymoon, we probably never will (at least not anytime in the next few decades).  I will probably never get to do a study at Mt. Vesuvius or even get my PH.D.  I'll never be a rock star (much to my dismay) and I'll never sing on Broadway.  Before you say anything, yes I know I'm throwing a "woe is me" fit.  This is a pity party for lil ol' me and I dragged you along.  But please try to understand, that these are things that I spent my whole life believing will happen, so it's hard at the moment to realize that they won't. 
On the upside, Delli will be here in a little less than two weeks time and I get to see my mommy in three weeks.  And then there will be much rejoicing in my world.
Also, I know that these are things that I have to deal with myself.  I have to come up with new game plans and focus on what will be best for my family.  Life isn't always fair and it doesn't always turn out the way you expected.  I, in my naivety, just assumed that I would be able to do all those great things despite my circumstances. 
On a side note, The Lightening Thief (film adaptation) was WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY different than the book.  Still entertaining though.