Fat Shaming

This past Monday, my husband and I went to lunch. As he finished paying and getting our food, I filled up our drinks. While I was putting tea in our cups, I heard a whistle. I turned around, and three guys in their mid-20s were staring at me. Immediately, I turned my back to them to finish what I was doing. Then I heard this behind me, "She's huge." "Look at those white legs." "She doesn't need to be wearing shorts." "She needs to skip lunch." I had to make a quick decision in that moment. Either I go up to them and tell them off or cry or ignore it and move on with lunch. I decided to ignore it and move on with lunch because I have a husband who probably would have gone to jail had he known what they said. I decided to wait until I saw them pull out of the parking lot to tell my husband. Naturally, he built me up and tried to soothe my breaking heart. The rest of the day we ran errands for church, and I was okay until I got home that night.

Suddenly, their callous words caused me to see everything in a negative way. I couldn't stop crying and Facebook was only exasperating my mood with memes on motherhood and nasty comments about everyone and everything. I decided to take a Facebook break due to the shame I was starting to feel.

During that break from Facebook, God spoke to me. He said,"Misty, you are worthy. You are worthy despite being childless, jobless, poor, fat, and moody. Those are man's conditions, not mine. I love you exactly the way you are. Be not ashamed." He's right. I am worthy!

It's hard to feel worthy in a world where the cutest clothes are size 12 and under, where people openly brag about how much weight they've lost like it's some competition, where models are considered plus size when over a size 6, and where people hide behind social media to make fun of others. 

I have struggled with my weight since puberty. I was a skinny kid and then "Bam!" I had a pudgy stomach. My weight issues are not a roller coaster of weight, but an inability to move my weight. I have been the same clothing size for ten years. After wondering for years why, I was diagnosed with PCOS. Finally, I had an answer to my weight issues. People with PCOS have insulin resistance which makes it difficult to lose weight. Additionally, women who take fertility meds put on weight. So, this is my story. I can't lose weight easily, and I keep adding more on. 

Those guys on Monday didn't know this about me. They were morons who chose to be rude instead of knowing my story.  Many women have PCOS, thyroid issues, and other medical problems that make it difficult to lose weight. Additionally, some women have difficulty gaining weight due to medical issues. 

Here's the thing. People have stories that we don't know. Before making snap judgments, we need to think about what their story could be. Their story isn't our story. It is wrong to judge others based on our own, narrow story.

I am not trying to play a victim here. I could do more to better my health. However, I am happy with this body that God has given me. There's no one else like me. I am uniquely and wonderfully made by a God who loves me. That's hard for some people to understand.  They want me to look like they do or fit their mold of beauty. That's their story. My story is that I have a husband who makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, and a God who loves me no matter what. I think my story is wonderful. I feel no shame. I am proud of me. 

Take that, jerks!

Oh, good grief!

I knew the moment I posted about coping mechanisms that I'd have a day where I couldn't cope. That day was today. I was on the verge of tears or ugly sobbing all day long.

Grief can hit you out of nowhere. When it does, there's not much you can do to stop it. I tried all my coping mechanisms to no avail, and I knew it would be one of those days. I had to get out in public today, so I did my "don't talk to anyone" thing. It keeps me from crying when I don't want to cry. I sit quietly and observe the room. I watch other people have a good time and just pray that something won't cause the tears to flow. Then, as soon as the event is over, I am out of there. Usually, I cry once I hit the safety of my car.

I'm sure some counselor will tell me how unhealthy this method is and blah, blah, blah. However, anyone that has been through grief or depression understands that sometimes all you can do is "survive." I am grieving a fundamental right of humans, procreation. I most likely will never see a child take her first breath or know what it feels to have a baby growing inside of me. That's a loss that takes time to process.

Many people say to have faith or never lose hope. I appreciate the encouragement, but I have to be realistic, too. We have no more money to pursue another embryo transfer. Four doctors have told us that it won't happen naturally. I believe in the power of God and miracles, but I also believe in accepting reality. If I am surprised with a miracle, then that will be awesome. I have heard stories of that happening. I know God can choose to do that for us. For now though, I am grieving. My heart is heavy. Please be patient with me.

The Power of 30 Seconds

A week ago today, we learned that our embryos didn't attach. I used to be someone who would fall apart by sad news and stay in that state. Through the years, I have learned ways to change my coping mechanisms. I am no expert, but these tips have helped.

1. I allow myself to fall apart but for no more than 12 hours. After 12 hours, I make myself do something like clean, cook, go to a movie, or get dressed. It takes 30 seconds to make this decision and sets the tone for the rest of the day.

2. I try to find someone who needs help and help them. This might mean sending a text that says, "I am thinking of you." or gathering food buckets for Africa or helping an elderly lady with her groceries. No matter how small or big the task, putting my mind in the mindset of serving others, takes the focus off my own problems.

3. I pray a lot. I pray when I first wake up. I pray while waiting on my coffee. I pray while driving my car. I pray. I pray. I pray. Why? Jesus is an available friend 24/7. He's a friend who wants the very best for you and loves you without condition. Pretty cool, right? I can say whatever I want to Him whenever I want without fear. He loves me. He listens. He knows me better than anyone. He can understand me even when my words fail to come out.

4. I respond to friends. This may seem simple, but in a world of social media, this doesn't always happen. If someone leaves a comment on my Facebook page, I respond in some way. If someone sends me a text, I return it with a message. Even if I am busy, I take 30 seconds to say,"I heard you." I have found that by being a good friend that I have the best friends. I am not perfect at it by no means, but I try to take time to nurture friendships. Some of these friends have known me for over 25 years. My current crisis is no excuse to drop the ball on our friendship.

5. I hug my husband. Okay, this seems silly, but in the routine of work and busyness, couples can forget to stop what they are doing and hug each other. There are times that I interrupt Chris in the middle of doing dishes or writing a paper and say,"I need a hug." I know that studies have proven the positive effect that human contact has on emotion, but I don't need those studies. I feel loved, secure, and better when my husband takes 30 seconds to hug me. I feel even better when I stop what I am doing to hug him when he needs it.

Again, I am no expert or psychologist. These are my tips that I have learned through years of struggle and disappointment. One of the cutest movies I have seen is We Bought a Zoo. In that movie, the father says to the son, "You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage. Just literally twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery. And I promise you, something great will come of it.” Well, sometimes in our sad state, we may need an extra 10 seconds of courage to to be brave, but I know that bravery will be worth it. Something great will come of it!

It's Not My Fault

One of the toughest parts of the infertility journey is finding out who is at fault for your problems. How will that news affect your marriage? Your self-esteem?  Chris and I were "lucky" in the fact that we both had issues that make it hard for us to conceive. We have never once blamed one another.

This time with the embryo transfer, I felt that everything was on me. The embryos were already formed. All I had to do was be a good host and follow the directions. I did everything the doctors said to do - 33 patches, 31 shots, 2 surgeries, 93 prenatal vitamins, 31 baby aspirins,  45 doctors' visits, 1 year off work, and countless hours in prayer. Everything.

When the news came that our transfer didn't work, I blamed myself. Maybe I moved too much. Maybe I didn't take my medicine at the right time. Maybe I didn't eat enough Cayenne pepper. The "maybes" became all I could think about. The first time I vocalized a "maybe" to Chris, he said, "I won't have that. I won't stand for anyone blaming you, not even you." I knew that we'd always be okay after he said those words.

Today, the doctor told us that it wasn't my fault. He felt the embryos never had a chance to attach. When he put in the catheter, he met resistance, and I met terrible pain. I cramped and cried. The doctor said there was no way anyone could have known or prevented that from happening.

I can't begin to describe the weight that has been lifted after hearing this news. "It's not my fault!!!!!"  (God, you are so awesome that even in my worst sorrow, you show me how much you love me.)

Maybe one day, I can change the "maybes" in my head. Maybe I can try again. Maybe I will find the money. Maybe I can be a mommy one day. For now, I can sleep a little better and cry a little less knowing that I gave it my all.

Spinning Plates

It was 6:24 a.m. on Saturday, June 6th, and I was wide awake. To let my husband and dogs sleep in, I tip-toed out of the room and into the living room. Immediately, I started crying. Within seconds, I found myself on my knees next to the recliner. I cried out to God in despair and grief for about thirty minutes.

The day before we had received the call that our embryo transfer did not work. We have tried everything to have a child except IVF which is too costly for us. Trying with donated embryos was our last hope. It failed.

I spent Saturday cleaning my house and organizing drawers, cabinets, and closets. I needed to feel that my house was in order before getting my emotions in order. At the end of the day, I flipped through Netflix and found the documentary Spinning Plates. "Oh, another chef movie!" I thought.

After an hour in to Spinning Plates, it was clear this was not another chef movie. The documentary follows three families with three extremely different restaurants. All families have faced adversity while pursuing their dreams aka "spinning plates." One of the families' stories spoke to me in a way that only God could.

The Breitbach family owns and operates Breitbach's Country Dining, which has existed for 150 years in Balltown, Iowa. The restaurant is the community's gathering place, meeting house, and oldest institution. Mike and Cindy Breitbach run the restaurant today.

In 2007, the restaurant burned down due to a gas explosion. The original structure was completely gone. The community rallied around the Breitbachs. They sent money for rebuilding, donated construction items, and helped rebuild the restaurant. Within six months, it was up and running again. Mike felt such a sense of gratitude to the community for all their help.

Ten months to the day of the first fire, Mike received a call in the middle of the night that his restaurant was on fire. It burned down again. After an investigation, no cause of the fire was ever found. Mike was done and vowed not to rebuild again.

Something (or someone) told him to try again. He said," We couldn't let them down. All those people who invested their time and money in us. We have to rebuild a 2nd time." They did and during the rebuilding, his daughter met who would become her husband. "It was a good thing that came out of an awful thing." said Mike.

Chris and I were told in September that we'd have six months to try to have a baby. Our friends and family rallied behind us and donated towards our four rounds of IUI. Those didn't work. After some encouragement from those who love us, we decided to "rebuild" and try something different, embryo adoption. Again, our families and friends rallied behind us, gave us money, encouraged us, loved on us, and more. For the second time, it failed. We don't know why it failed and most likely won't ever know.

We are at the point in this journey where we have no more funds to move forward. We may be totally finished with our fertility journey unless God provides financially. We have one embryo left at the fertility center which may have to stay there and wait. Additionally, we are worn. My body looks like it has been through a fight. I have sticky residue that won't come off my belly from the 33 Estrogen patches I had to take on and off this month. My rear end has 31 welts and bruises from the 31 shots I had to endure. The physical part of this is torture. The emotional part of it all is 10 times worse.

We want to thank all of you for rallying behind us in this journey. Even though it may be at an end, we still need you. We are coping with a loss that is indescribable. How does one describe the loss of something that never was? We need your prayers, broad shoulders, and encouragement as we deal with this grief. Will we rebuild again? I don't know at this point. I do know that God has an amazing plan for us. We will find out what that is one day, but until then, we'll be here "spinning plates."