Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Breaking My Silence: Chapter 5

Breaking My Silence:
Chapter 5. Odds and Ends

Here are some little snippets of writing from my ideas notepad that I didn’t feel were quite heavy enough for their own posts, yet still are things that are important to me to share.
1. I do not begrudge you your children. I do not resent you for having children or talking about your children. You are perfectly entitled to be proud of them and show them off. I may resent the fact that it’s easy for you, but please do not assume that I am completely hardened by this experience. In fact the opposite is true. I’ve never felt more sympathetic or soft-hearted, and remember what an innately angry person I am? I know, it’s shocking for me too. There is no need to walk on eggshells around me and even less need to exaggerate it if you do. Be assured that I feel sincerely happy for you.

That said, I still have limits. Please do not shove your children at me and become offended or appalled when I do not wish to hold them, play with them, babysit them… etc. I am very bad at it. Please believe me when I say I’m bad at it. I have absolutely no desire to. If I do want to hold your baby, I will let you know. Or, you could simply ask and if I decline, leave it at that. Don’t assume I’m dying to hold everyone’s baby. I am not. Please do not cram your sonogram down my throat and in the same breath WHINE AND COMPLAIN incessantly about your pregnancy. That will annoy me beyond measure.

2. NEVER say the following things. They are thoughtless, careless, insensitive, unfunny and I’ll just say it: downright mean-hearted. However, if you simply MUST say any of these and cannot hold back, then say it to me. If you say it to Nate I will tear you limb from limb. Probably not literally, but I just can’t guarantee that. For good measure, if you do want to know the answer to these burning questions, I’ve included my responses. And in case you’re in disbelief as you read on, yes, I have actually been told ALL of these things.

A. "How long have you been married? And still no kids?" as of September 2012 – 7 years and yep.

B. "When are you having kids??"
How can anyone know that??

C. "How many kids are you going to have?"
Again, how can someone know? It’s not really up to me.

D. "Aren’t my horrible, wild kids great birth control? Hahaha"
Screw you.

E. "You’re getting older, you should probably hurry up if you want kids."
Oh really? I thought that as life progressed, you got younger. Weird. Also, age is the least of my problems.

F. "I knew someone who had that disease. Now she has 40 kids. Don’t worry. The moral of the story is that if you’re good, God will bless you with children, if that’s your heart’s desire."
WTF… I don’t even know where to begin…

G. "We’d like to extend to you the calling of nursery leader/primary teacher for our ward."
You must be insane.

H. "Becoming a parent is a blessed calling. Do whatever you must to rise up to this calling."
Hard words to hear. While I agree with the general message of this one, my defiance tends to rise up and want to say Don’t tell me what to do! You don’t know my life!

I. "Sorry my kid repeatedly punched your husband in the crotch while I laughed."
You’re not sorry. If you were, you’d discipline that little shit.

J. Maybe I’ve made a remark or behaved in way merely by happenstance that you found compelling: "ARE YOU PREGNANT??" No. "Are you sure??" Yes. "Really???" Yes! Hell! "But how can you be sure? You never know! Did you take a test?" I am BLATANTLY reminded of that fact by my own damn body. Yes. I. Am. Sure. No. I. Do. Not. Need. To. Take. A. Freaking. Test.

I hate to say this because I think people use it as a cop-out too often, but my responses can highly depend on my mood. Some days I feel much better equipped to handle these things and I can deflect without taking offense. I do try to be open-minded and objective, most of the time.
3. I suppose this goes hand-in-hand with the obsession with which I find myself possessed. Actually, I hesitate to admit this because I’m a bit embarrassed, but I can’t get enough of movies and blogs about babies/pregnancy. Recent examples: "The Back-Up Plan" and "What to Expect When You’re Expecting". I laughed until I cried and cried until I laughed. Particularly the end of "What to Expect…" when J.Lo’s character travels to Africa to pick up her newly-adopted son. Suffice it to say… a huge part of me was very glad I watched that movie alone. I’ve also found myself on several adoption agency blogs and cannot stop reading the profiles. They are so full of hope and heartbreak at the same time. They cause me to start thinking about what I might say if I ever have to write a profile.

4. I am finally able to come from a place a true gratitude. I feel amazingly blessed to be surrounded by such good and supportive friends and family and undeservingly blessed to be married to the guy I’m married to. In a future post, I hope to be able to relay his side of the story, but for now, know that he has suffered as much as I have, if not more. And please take him seriously. He jokes around and acts tough because he is a man and he is coping too. He is entitled to deal however he chooses to deal. But that doesn’t mean anyone is allowed to push it.

I feel confident speaking for both of us when I say that we are looking ahead with hope and enthusiasm. And also a bit of fear, of course. You always fear the unknown. But I’ve been able to find peace and come to rely on my faith that my future is not in my own hands. It is in Heavenly Father’s hands and how can I not trust someone who knows all things?

Until next time.

Friday, November 9, 2012

Breaking My Silence: Chapter 4

Breaking My Silence: Chapter 4. Coping Mechanisms.

1. Silence
I’ve already addressed this topic in the previous posts, so I won’t go much more into it here. It was fairly simple, to my mind. Suffering in silence not only allowed me to ignore the problem for the most part, but I also hoped to minimize it and spare Nate any undue stress. Obviously he must have been suffering on his own, but the less I brought it up, the more I felt I was helping. Of course we had our private discussions from time to time. But I would keep my biggest fears and worries to myself, partly because I could never really figure out how to put into words exactly what I was feeling, but mostly to spare him. No doubt he was having similar feelings but crying about it wasn’t going to change or fix anything… I thought.

2. The Gym
The gym became an outlet for my pent up anger and frustration. Throwing around some heavy weights and feeling strong in at least one area of my life really gave me a sense of control and accomplishment. It bolstered my self-esteem. It gave me an identity which I had had the power to choose for myself, rather than one that had been thrust upon me, and I relished that. At the gym, I could walk around and feel powerful, perhaps even high and mighty. And it sounds outrageously conceited, but I felt that if I could excel at something others often failed at, maybe I could count us even, since I was failing at making a family. It eased the guilt with which I always seemed to feel weighed down, even if only temporarily. Pushing my body so hard physically provided a type of therapy for me to leave all my baggage at the door and focus entirely on something else. But I could also use the time alone with myself to quietly ponder and reflect without any distractions; sort out my emotions. Draw conclusions and make decisions about how I was going to feel and approach certain aspects of the problem. Endorphins were a great conductor for epiphanies.

3. Humor
In fact, one of these conclusions was that if I maintained a sense of humor (even if I was the only one who thought I was funny), I could minimize the severity, keep control of my emotions, and deflect awkward or insensitive comments. I could shut people up pretty quickly with a carefully constructed joke or bit of sarcasm. Nate became an expert at this, and the devil in me will always appreciate my knight-in-shining-armor for that. It’s terrible, but I admit that I enjoyed making people squirm and feel guilty for the thoughtless remarks that could never be recalled. Revenge was bittersweet. My humor was black and backhanded… I suppose I was the only one laughing most of the time. But it put a band-aid over the ache in my bleeding heart that careless words could so easily rip open. In my mind, it was like sticking my tongue out and saying, "So there!"

4. Obsession
Obsession has its perks and detriments. I have learned so much about endometriosis facts and statistics, infertility as related to endo and in general, in vitro, surrogacy, all the different types of adoption, fertility drugs, pregnancy, complications, even all the different theories and philosophies about child rearing… etc. How I crave more knowledge of all things having remotely anything to do with the situation. I am constantly searching for stories like mine; stories and people (whether real or fictional) that I can relate to in order to not feel so isolated. I have an overwhelming sense of urgency to know, in a desperate attempt to ease my fears. But that is where my obsessive behavior takes a detrimental downturn. The more I find out, the more fearful I become. My fears multiply as my research often unearths concepts I’d never thought of before and I become filled with more questions than answers. I cannot help but deliberately put myself in situations that will inevitably break my heart. Yet I can’t stop. I must know.

5. Filling the Void
Despite what may or may not be a popularly-held belief, I think I do have a bit of maternal instinct, however remote it may be. I enjoy keeping house (or rather, having a well-kept house), baking, and doting on loved ones. My affections and attempt at nurturing behavior currently have no where else to fall than on Nate and my pets and so they are my outlet. I'm sometimes embarrassed by how much I talk about my cat and pups, but what else have I to gush about? I have a picture of Hans as my desktop wallpaper at work and everytime I see it I smile and miss him. Scoff if you must, but he is just one of my babies, and I'll fully admit that I feel motherly toward him (and the others... but him especially, for some reason. He is mine. Don't tell the others).

6. Speaking out
I am only just beginning to explore this coping mechanism and I must admit that so far, it has been very rewarding, and actually healing. I’ve never put a voice or order to the majority of these words I’ve written in the last week, until now. It has been unbelievably liberating. I almost wish I would have done this sooner, but then I realize that I couldn’t have. The only reason I am able to articulate everything in such an organized and objective way now is because I’ve finally reached a place of peace in my heart. This story could not have been told from any other perspective than that.

Until next time.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

Breaking My Silence: Chapter 3

Breaking My Silence: Chapter 3. Stages of Healing.

Why have I never talked about this until now? Simple. If you avoid a problem, it will go away. Right? If you don’t talk about it, you don’t have to think about it. If you don’t think about it, you won’t be sad. If you’re not sad, then no one will pester you. And not being pestered makes me happy.

There are a lot of reasons I have not talked about it this openly before. It’s gross. It’s embarrassing. I felt ashamed. It’s private and personal. I did not want to see that pity in people’s faces. I did not want to hear people’s solutions for me; I was not interested in having everyone fix it. I also felt insulted when people would try and "educate" me about the issue… Hello? I am the one with the problem, don’t you think I’m already an expert on the subject?? I did not want to hear the unhelpful and often insensitive (whether intentional or not) comments. I did not want the judgment. I did not want to be compared to others: I was not like them! I was unique! I didn’t want to hear that so-and-so has that same disease and she had 15 kids, so don’t worry, it’s not a big deal. It’s a big deal to me! I was too proud to admit I needed help in an area where so many people excel without even trying. I felt broken. I felt like a failure. I felt inadequate. I felt wracked with guilt. When I do talk about it, it’s difficult not to cry. I hate crying. It makes me feel weak and I hate feeling weak (I think that’s become quite obvious… just read the name of this blog), especially in front of people. And when I’d cry, I’d see the pity.

However, I would have gladly taken ALL of this to spare Nate from getting any of it. Seeing him suffer these things was a million times worse than any unkind remark or thoughtless expression ever given to me.

So we did not talk about it.


I went through several stages of healing to get to where I am today. Beginning to talk about it now is another step in that process.

Stage 1. Anger

I was and still have moments when I feel a lot of anger. I’m frustrated that the medical community seems to have almost no information regarding the disease and they haven’t even figured out what causes it and much less how to cure it.

I also struggled with the injustice of it all. Why did this happen to me? So I’m not one of those kid-adoring people, I can fully admit that. I’m not dying to hold everyone’s babies all the time, or babysit. But that doesn’t mean I don’t desire to someday have my own children. That doesn’t mean I don’t like kids, in general. So why do I deserve this? What did I do to bring this on myself?

I’m angry that nobody talks about it. It’s almost a taboo subject. I can’t possibly be alone in feeling all those things described above. So if this disease afflicts millions of women in the world, including so many that I know personally, why isn’t anyone talking about it? Why isn’t it common knowledge? Why must we feel so ashamed by it that it is kept hushed? It makes my blood boil! (no pun intended…)

I’m angry that this Mormon community we are surrounded by sets such a hard and fast standard of child-having. (And please note that I say community, meaning the people in general, not the church or gospel)
  • Get married between the ages of 18 and 25 (and 25 is pushing it, you senior citizen!): check.

  • Have 5 kids by the time you hit age 30… ummm…

If you don’t fit into this mold, you must be a worldly freak, a sinner, a lover of your career and money over family with obviously no desire to follow the commandment to multiply and replenish. How dare you mock God? You bring down upon yourself a torrent of social pressure and unrelenting questioning and nosing in your business, whether you have a good reason or not! You should be exhausting your resources in order to have as many children as possible, the costs be damned!

Stage 2. Fear

I was afraid of the unknown. I was afraid of the choices I’d have to make. How would I know the right thing to do? I’m afraid of in vitro. I’m afraid of surrogacy. I’m afraid of adoption. I’m afraid of what will happen if I actually get pregnant on my own. Will there be complications? Will I miscarry? Is my soul strong enough to cope with a miscarriage? I’m afraid of never seeing that plus sign on a pregnancy test. I’m afraid of seeing a plus sign on a pregnancy test. And postpartum, I’m afraid of the kind of mom I’ll be. I’m afraid of never becoming a mom. I’m afraid of having a child with some sort of disability and how I’ll raise that child. I’m afraid the endo will grow back. I’m afraid of only having one child... what will that do to him/her? To me? To Nate? What if I hate being a mom? Above all I’m afraid of my own grand inadequacy.

Stage 3. Gratitude and Acceptance

I still don’t have the answers to any of the things listed in the two stages above and yes, these things still vex me, almost daily. But through my faith, many blessings, and the support of that great guy, Nate, and a wonderful Davis and Jacob family, I was able to get to a place of gratitude and acceptance. I have realized that it is all actually quite simple. This thing happened. It is a part of my life. There’s nothing I can do to change it and nothing I could have done to prevent it. It is simply there to teach me patience, humility, and trust in the Lord, and to make a better person out of me and so all I have to do is allow it to do so. Pouting and pitying myself will get me nothing but personal misery, not to mention more misery for Nate.

Stage 4. Resolve

I spend a lot of time researching on my own and learning all I can. I look at all the positive options there still are. It is not totally hopeless. And even if I do end up going through this life childless, who ever said that has to be such a terrible thing? Who ever said I can’t choose to be happy anyway if that is God’s plan for me? I read a great saying once that goes, "When life knocks you down, calmly get back up and politely say, ‘You hit like a bitch’." (source unknown) And this is one of my favorites from the show Modern Family, "When life gives you lemonade, make lemons. Life will be all like ‘Whaaaat?’" Hahaha!

I’m really hoping that by finally talking about it, I can continue to heal and also help someone out there who could be struggling and might feel alone in their struggle, like I did. It needs to be exposed and talked about. I’m resolving to be better at that.

Until next time.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

Breaking My Silence: Chapter 2

Breaking My Silence:
Chapter 2. What’s wrong with us?

By our second year of marriage, Nate and I decided to go off the pill because it had literally turned me into a mental patient and my sanity and our marriage was suffering. I had tried everything known to man at the time, short of Depo and an IUD (both of which my doctor had recommended against for reasons that are not necessarily pertinent to this post). Every different brand of pill they made and all the extra low-hormone versions, the patch, the ring… all were horrible.

I am predisposed to an explosive temper and anger so intense that, to me, I almost feel homicidal when something makes me mad. But previous to starting the birth control, I felt I had a pretty good handle on controlling my emotions and calming the beast. Well, the birth control was like unlocking the jail door that kept my anger under control and unleashing it on unsuspecting victims… namely, Nate. But it wasn’t just anger. I could go from perfectly happy to unbelievably depressed in the pits of despair and crying for no apparent reason, to fuming with rage in a matter of minutes. Anti-depressants and anti-anxiety drugs did nothing. And the worst part of all of it was that I was fully aware of what was happening and that I was acting completely irrationally, but I could not control it. The control I had worked so hard to achieve was gone. It had disappeared. It was as though I saw myself outside my body and was watching this crazy rampage unfold, but I would float there next to this psychopath, utterly and totally helpless. And then the guilt I was tormented with after such an episode was soul-crushing.

We made the decision to simply go off birth control all together and if we got pregnant, great. If not, that was fine too. We thought we had solved the problem and everything would be fine again. Except... after 2 whole years of using zero protection and still not getting pregnant, coupled with the strange, painful symptoms that began to manifest, we started to realize that something was definitely wrong.

I had countless pelvic exams, ultra-sounds, blood-tests, scans, and x-rays, all inconclusive. All the doctors and specialists told me there was nothing wrong with me. If we were having trouble getting pregnant, it was just bad timing, or possibly there was something wrong with Nate. I knew in my heart they were wrong. (I also wanted to kill them for having the audacity to suggest that my wonderful husband must the problem.) These were not just any old cramps. Menstrual irregularity can be some people’s normal, but this was more than irregularity, more than cramps, and more than chronic infections for no reason. So for the next few years we kept at it.

I will never forget one ultra sound in particular in which I was required to have a full bladder so that it would move out of the way when I laid down on the table so the camera would be able to clearly see my uterus. The tech pressed down so hard on my very full bladder with the camera that I literally screamed and cried in pain, just to be told afterward that nothing was wrong with me. My poor mom had to sit there and watch it all. There was another exam that was invasive and extremely awkward and painful, in which an ultra sound camera was shoved up you-know-where, covered in freezing gel! Only to be told AGAIN that nothing was wrong with me. And Nate was there by my side every time, just as frustrated as I was. It wasn’t cysts. It wasn’t fibroids. It wasn’t anything on the long list of feminine reproductive problems that the symptoms indicated.

Finally, my OB-GYN told me that we had exhausted all the tests possible. All of them came back saying I was just fine. But since I was persistent that my symptoms had to mean something, he told me the very last possible thing it could be was endometriosis. But the only way to know for sure was to do surgery and physically look inside me and see if there were spots. He told me that endometriosis is so difficult to diagnose because these spots of tissue do not show up on ultra-sounds, scans, or x-rays and cannot be felt in normal physical examinations. Nate told me he would support whatever decision I made and that it would be up to me since it was my body. I chose to undergo the surgery. I could not stand the thought of never knowing for sure. I also could not stand the thought of endo tissue continuing to grow and spread all over my other organs and not getting rid of it. At that time I was not concerned with the possibility of infertility nearly as much as I was about ending the pain. I just wanted relief and knowledge and I wanted it now.

The doctor ended up finding several small patches of tissue on the outside of my uterus around the left side, right where I had felt the stabbing pain. He burned them off, sewed me back up and I took about a week to recover, and then another month or so on "light duty". Now the options were this: 1. Try and get pregnant as soon as possible, which would automatically prevent the tissue from re-growing during pregnancy and nursing. Then try immediately to get pregnant again… and so on until we were done and then have a hysterectomy in the end. 2. Immediately go onto a temporary birth control regimen to prevent the tissue from growing back, until we were ready to proceed with option one.

I didn’t feel ready to get pregnant quite yet and the prospect of possibly being pregnant for years without a break freaked me out at the time, but I was also terrified of birth control due to my previous experience. Finally I chose to give the Depo a try, resolving myself to the only option left if the Depo ended up making me crazy. But it didn’t. It was wonderful! I had none of the previous side-effects and I went without a period for years. I highly recommend it to anyone and everyone, whether you suffer from reproductive issues or not. I have nothing but good things to say about it, but only because it helped me so much personally. Different people have different reactions to certain drugs and you should use what you’re comfortable with and what your doctor recommends. It should be known about Depo Provera, though, that the drug can remain in your system for up a year after your last shot, so plan on that.

The relief did not come without a downside, however. I still had the infertility to face. It has been quite rough coming to terms with the possibility that I may never have a child "the normal way", if at all. Sure, there are a lot of very good and noble alternative options out there (all of which I will consider if and when the time comes), but what woman dreams of becoming a mother without experiencing pregnancy and everything that goes with it?

Imagine how you might feel if that dream were unceremoniously snatched right out of your hands. Think of the children you already have. Of course you would love them every bit as much if they were adopted or conceived in a petri dish (and perhaps they were and you know first-hand what I am talking about), and perhaps its tough not to take your pregnancy for granted, especially if it was difficult or had you ill or bed-ridden, but can you imagine missing out on the experiences of peeing on a stick and (finally) seeing a plus sign… ultrasounds to hear the heartbeat and find out if it’s a boy or girl… feeling your little one wiggle around and kick… watching your amazing body change and grow to accommodate the miracle inside you… teaching your other children about the process… feeling those labor pains and knowing that meeting your new babe is only hours away… the birth itself… hearing your baby’s first cries… nursing… the list goes on.

I had to face the possibility that I might not experience these things. It has taken me a long time, and I mean a really long time, to accept it and become genuinely okay with it. Please, for me, do not take it for granted.
For the record, I am still holding out some hope that, with help, pregnancy will still be possible for me someday, when I choose to pursue that interest. But I have also had to prepare myself for the possible news that it won’t be among my options.

Until next time.

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Breaking My Silence: Intro

Breaking My Silence:
The Truth About My Endometriosis and Infertility Exposed.

Introduction

After a lot of contemplation, many different blog-readings, and personal research, I’ve been filled with inspiration and I’m about to take a huge leap of courage. This will be a series of posts in which I examine several aspects of the journey Nate and I have been on for the last 7 years. (I’m warning you now that if the talk of blood makes you squirm, do not read on. I am not going to hold back.)

I’ve been thinking for a little while now that it might be time to begin talking about this. I finally feel like I have reached a place in my relationship with endometriosis that I can speak freely about it. Don’t think this means I am past feeling about the whole ordeal. It just means that I have come to accept the cards I’ve been dealt and have resolved to see this as an opportunity rather than something to be ashamed of or a reason to be self-pitying. I also think that getting these thoughts and feelings out into the open for the first time could be a step in the right direction toward healing emotionally myself, and at the same time answer some burning questions that I know are out there.

You have been wondering. Here is the truth about why a 29-year-old married Mormon woman is not a mother.

The facts:
  1. I have a disease called endometriosis.

  2. Endometriosis can cause infertility. It is still possible to get pregnant with the disease, but the chances are typically very slim and can vary from case to case, just as the severity of the disease varies.

  3. Endometriosis plagues millions of women. Many go undiagnosed. It is much more common than you think.

  4. NOBODY talks about it. And that needs to change.
What it is:

I found this link helpful in describing it. 
http://www.endometriosisassn.org/endo.html

Endometriosis is characterized by the endometrial lining of the uterus beginning to grow outside of the uterus in places where it doesn’t belong. It acts in the same way that normal endometrium acts during the menstrual cycle, but as the tissue inside the uterus has a clear way out of the body, the tissue growing outside the uterus has no place to go. This results in internal bleeding and causes severe pain and infertility.

It is extremely difficult to diagnose, which is the reason so many women are not officially diagnosed. It has all the same symptoms as almost every other feminine reproductive problem. The only way to know for sure that a person has endometriosis is to perform laproscopic surgery. And that is the decision of the patient to undergo the surgery. My doctor told me we could treat for it and hope that worked, or do the surgery and know for sure. I chose to know for sure. That means that the surgeon will make an incision in the navel (the patient is under anesthesia), insert a camera to look for growths of tissue, and if found, then insert a laser and burn the tissue off.

It is not known why or how it happens. It is not known if it is hereditary or what causes it. Only one thing is currently certain: There is no cure. However, there a variety of treatment options that work well in controlling the growth of the tissue. The most popular and recommended is contraceptive drugs (birth control), and (go ahead and laugh, this is ironic…) pregnancy.


Why Contraceptives:

Birth control works to prevent pregnancy by essentially tricking the body into thinking it is already pregnant. The pregnancy hormone is the effective ingredient. During pregnancy, the endometrial lining of the uterus is not shed every month. By tricking the body in this way, the growth of the endometrial lining is inhibited. I chose a more aggressive contraceptive drug called Depo Provera which is administered via a shot to the hip every three months. The drug prevented any growth or shedding of tissue as well as any ovulation and thereby temporarily relieved my symptoms.

My symptoms (This is where is gets graphic, so stop reading if you don’t think you can handle it):
  1. Irregular periods. To skip months, and at other times bleed for 6 weeks straight was the norm for me. I could never count on anything. There was always a looming surprise. Even while using the pill. I had been irregular since day one at 15 years old.

  2. Severe cramps, vaginal pain, and painful urination during periods.

  3. Sudden, severe stabbing pains during and between periods that were debilitating and localized. Think – on the floor in the fetal position because the pain is so excrutiating you physically cannot even straighten out your legs or lie flat on your back, much less stand or sit upright. These would disappear as suddenly as they came. And I say localized because, for me, these instances always occurred in the exact same spot in my abdomen. And surprise, surprise, guess where they found the spots during the surgery?

  4. Intense pain and bleeding immediately following sexual intimacy. Every time was like the first time. Without fail.

  5. Chronically reoccurring yeast and urinary tract infections. I am a freak (A FREAK!) about keeping clean and I still couldn’t catch a break so I was put on a UTI medication to be taken every single day whether I had symptoms of a UTI or not. If I were to miss just one day of taking that pill... instant infection.
And those are the facts. I feel a bit strange ending on that nasty note, but that’s all I have as an intro. There will be many more posts in which I dive into the physical and emotional trauma we went through as well as how it has affected other areas of my life. I’m also hoping to be able to get Nate’s point of view as a guest post sometime in this series. Maybe I’ll do it as an interview. We’ll see.

I welcome your comments and questions below. If you have noticed any similar symptoms and they are bad enough to disrupt your life, please, please do not ignore them. Go see your doctor and start talking about it.

Until next time.

Monday, November 5, 2012

A little update

This post is just a short little thing to say that I have not abandoned this blog. I've just been a little busy and I sort of went through a drought of topics to write about. But I've done some brainstorming and a lot of reading of other friend's blogs and I've been newly inspired, so now I have some topics in mind that I hope will interest somebody.

I also plan to branch out a little bit and begin to include all things about wellness that help me in my attempt to live a well-rounded healthy life. Some of these things (one series I'm planning in particular) will be of a more serious, heavy nature than the fluff I usually write about. But I feel very strongly that I need to talk about this thing that's very close to my heart and hopefully be able to touch someone's soul in the process.

That said, I'm feeling enthusiastic about the new topics I've decided on. I'm really hoping to be able to reach someone who might need the type of information I'll share, but aside from that, I'm hoping that writing about this topic will be freeing for me, personally.

Stay tuned! And thanks for visiting!

Mandee