Transformation Tuesday

I am not sure I'll ever get sick of this transformation. While I have shared this picture on the left before, sometimes I need to look back at it.
The difference in pictures scale wise, is 37lbs!! How I ended up NEEDING to lose close to 40lbs is beyond me. It's called being lazy, am I right?
When I'm having a bad day, when I feel like I'm not doing enough, when I cave and eat like crap for a week because I'm to lazy to cook, I look at the picture on the left and instantly I feel something shift inside. I will never be there again. I will never cry standing in my closet, or cancel plans with friends because my clothes don't fit.
When I was this heavy, I was on 2 types of high blood pressure medication. Do you think my doctor told me to lose weight?? Nope. Why wouldn't he tell me my high blood pressure COULD be, because I was overweight. I still to this day will never understand.
I have a LONG way to go. Between battling depression, and trying to get my NORMAL back, I know I can continue on with my transformation.
Not only on the outside, but more importantly on the inside as well.
Each day I keep fighting. Sometimes I feel like I'm winning, other days I feel
defeated.
But the most important thing, is that I'll never give up. And you reading this, don't you ever either.
Keep fighting. It's one day going to be worth it, even if you don't feel like it will now!
#transformationtuesday

It's been a while....

It's been a while since I was able to look at natures beauty, and really appreciate it.  There was a time when I would get so excited, thinking about being able to run through the leaves on the sidewalks....that feeling went away, and I didn't even want to run for a long time. I was thinking of the future, and about how shortly it would be gone, and the brutal winter would be here.  There was no stopping to look at it, soak it up, and be thankful I live somewhere there are trees like this. Sounds silly that I can get so serious about trees right? 
But, I am sure if you have ever been through depression, you can probably relate to where I am coming from.

Pouring my heart out

*This was originally published on the 18th of this month, but wanted to link up and share it again.*

I have sat down many times and tried to write this post. Wondering if I should, wondering what people would think, and wondering if I should share something so personal. Wondering if I was able to let anyone in this time, if I should share my struggle or just get better and move on. But then I realized that not sharing this wasn't who I was, so slowly but surely, I finally found the words.
It took me a week. A week of trying to hide. A week of shutting down my personal life, and not really caring about anything but what 100% needed to be taken care of. My kids, my work, exercise, and showering. I hate to say it but even my husband and best friend have been feeling the effects of this....that's hard to admit, but it's true. Considering my husband has to live with this everyday....well I'm just blessed he loves me as much as he does.

The first time I ever got diagnosed with depression was when the girls were around 3.5 weeks old. I remember that day like it was yesterday. Walking into the doctors office, having a meltdown, feeling like I could not breathe or talk. I was so scared, and felt so helpless. After 6 years of infertility, feeling like I didn't want my children, and asking myself why I tried so hard...well, lets just say that's a very scary feeling to have. After a while I eventually got better, I eventually could enjoy being a Mom. It took some time, but it happened. I remember laying in bed with them while they were crying one night, around 3am. Instead of sitting there feeding them and crying along with them....I was just calmer, not so anxious, and I think then it finally hit me that it was going to be okay....that this was life now, and I had adjusted to having two new little babies in my world.
This time, I wasn't expecting it. I didn't think that the loss my family experienced was going to make me spiral down so far. I was sad. I allowed myself to be sad....I let myself FEEL being pulling me down, but I quickly said "it's not going to happen" and honestly I just wrote it off as grief. Grief is tricky. You go through it in stages, and in no particular order. So who was I to just say "oh I'm depressed again, lets get me medicated and I'll be fine!" I didn't want to do that again.
I fought. And I fought for many reasons.
I was embarrassed , I felt like I was failing at my job, failing at what I do to make an impact in this world, and failing as a Mom, friend and wife. I was not going to admit I needed help AGAIN. I was going to be like those people who say to read personal development, workout everyday, repeat happy thoughts and words to yourself, and EVERYTHING will be okay!
Last weekend, I had a panic attack. I was doing nothing but what I normally do after baths, snuggling with my kids in my bedroom. I got shaky, anxious, hot, and felt like I was going to pass out...I started crying for no reason, and couldn't even stand to be in the same room with them. I got up and looked in the mirror, calmed myself down, and what I saw was the same person I saw 6.5 years ago when this first happened to me. Then, I got even more scared....because it hit me. It really was happening. Again.
I walked downstairs, saw the look in my husbands eyes, and knew what I needed to do. He suggested getting back on Zoloft again, but I said I would think about it the next day...I was totally clammed up and couldn't talk. But that following Monday, I was at the doctor....experiencing that feeling again, having him ask me what's wrong, and breaking down, hearing the words "severe depression" and walking out with a script in my hand.
It's been 8 days. It's NOT been 8 wonderful days. It's been 8 days of sorting through feelings. Sorting through my thoughts, hoping and praying that one of these days I'll wake up, and feel like ME again. Knowing that deep down, I am still me. I just have to get better, and find myself again.
I have been hard to love, and not a very good friend the past month and a half. Knowing me, you can probably believe that I have some guilt about that. And I do....but not to everyone. Only the ones who have been there, and I have tried to shut out, but were still there. Only the ones who kept their promise to me, and stood by me through this difficult time.
I'll be better soon. thanks for reading if you made it this far.

Guest post for Infertility awareness week

First came love

Our infertility journey

First came love 

To have a baby.

One day,  2 people feel deeply in love.  So in love, so quickly that after just one month of dating, the boy asked the girls to move in with him.  And you know what?  The girl didn't hesitate for one second.  She knew that this was it.  The ONE. 

Yes its true, me and Wes did indeed fall deeply in love.  From the moment we met, we both knew that it was something special.  Never in a million years did we think that we would have to go down the road of infertility.

Then came no baby

When we first mentioned to my doctor we had been "not careful" for quite sometime, he said well lets take a look.  The first thing you do is test the male.  If there is anyone out there reading this that is TTC, please make sure this is your first step!  Without them, you really have nothing to go on.  Anyway, no major problems there, so on we moved to me.  First step was testing basically everything!   The ONLY thing that came back low was my Prolactin, which is involved in ovulation and egg maturation.
My levels were not too bad, but I did get put on medication to get the levels back down.  During all of this, I had been talking with my doctor about my periods, and how bad they were. 
I had always had pretty painful, heavy cycles not knowing that it could someday interfere with my ability to have children.  After a lot of thinking and planning, we decided to go ahead with a Laproscopic surgery, to check and make sure I was okay.

  Conclusion: I had Endometriosis.
 
We  took a few months off for my healing, and then discussed our other options.  Our first try on fertility drugs was with the evil drug Clomid. 
Yikes is all I can say about that stuff.
  We also did a procedure called intra-uterine insemination (IUI) along with the Clomid.  An IUI is basically putting the sperm exactly where it's supposed to be, bypassing any endometrial tissue in my tubes, or if the swimmers were "lazy." This was sure to work....right?

WRONG:  3 months in a row of Clomid/IUI combo didn't work. 

After almost 4 years of not one single, NOT ONE, positive pregnancy test we talked and decided that although we were not quitting, we would find another doctor.  Not only did I have a new job, but also a new job with insurance that covered infertility treatments.  So out to seek him or her I did, and found him!  The office staff was amazing, and the first meeting we had, he said "we'll do this."  It sounds funny, but I knew he meant that he had confidence.  We discussed everything with him, and the first thing he suggested was another surgery to see if the Endometriosis had come back.  So we set my surgery date, and the only thing I could think of was wow, this guy knows his stuff!  The surgery went very well, and he removed more Endometriosis, polyps, and a big, nasty looking cyst.  My dreams of becoming a Mother were right around the corner, I could feel it!  My spirits were up, and I was already picking out the nursery furniture!   Well, the next several months looked like this...

1. 50mg of Clomid

2. 100mg of Clomid

3. 100mg of Clomid

4. 100mg of Clomid

5. 100mg of Clomid/IUI

6. 100mg of Clomid/IUI

7. 150mg of Clomid/IUI (IUI was cancelled)

If you can imagine I was extremely frustrated.  Not only was Clomid obviously not working for me, I was becoming depressed.  Cycle after cycle of crying, and asking myself what I was doing wrong, what I had done wrong. 
I'm sure I made my husband crazy, but he never gave up on me. 
He never complained, never said "Hey, lets just face it we can't get pregnant."

We had talked about in vitro fertizilizaion (IVF) but us? The thought of IVF scared me.  Because that was it.  That was our last chance for a baby.  We discussed our options with the doctor, and decided to switch up my fertility medication, and go with Follistim.  Follistim kind of scared me.  I had to give myself shots (okay, Wes gave them to me) and there was a chance of overstimulating my ovaries, which could cause all sorts of problems.  But we went ahead with it, what could hurt right? 
Well, that didn't work either. 

The next part coming up was a sure sign my doctor was crazy, and shouldn't be helping people get pregnant.  We decided to try one more cycle with the Follistim.  I was on the phone with the nurse, discussing my options.  Should we up the dosage?  I didn't respond well to it the first time, so she said sure.  She said they don't have a lot of patients in their office doing the Follistim, so let me just pull out the directions....???  I'm sorry?  Now, this should of been a HUGE red flag, don't do it!!!  But she said we will up the dosage to 100IU's from 75IU's, after she talked to the doctor.  He was probably "busy" and said yea whatever.  So on we went with the 100IU's of Follistim and IUI.

Now, before I go on, when you are dealing with infertility drugs, there is always the danger of overstimulation. To check on that, your E2 (also known as estrogen or estradiol) levels are measured before you start a cycle, in the middle, and towards the end. This is very, very important information I should have taught myself (because obviously my doctor didn’t have a clue) before I went ahead with my 100IUs of Follistim.


The E2 levels should be 200-600 pg/ml per mature (18 mm) follicle. For each “egg” I have growing on my ovary that is “mature” (18mm) my E2 levels should be in that range.  Not staying on top of them puts you at risk for sickness, hospitalization, even death.  Obviously you shouldn’t have too many. To make this long story a short one, I ended up sicker than a dog in addition to not pregnant, again. I was overstimulated thanks to my doctor not doing his job right, and was on bed rest for a week. The biggest follicle I had was 56mm. You can Google that if you need to know how bad it was. Trust me. It’s not good.

Bringing in the heavy stuff
Again, Wes and I were sitting down to figure out what on earth to do. We went on birth control pills for a cycle to get the cyst (follicles) to go away. It was time to look into our IVF option.  I called insurance and called my doctor. He seemed eager to refer me to and IVF clinic. I was to never hear from him again.
We did start our first IVF cycle.  I went into it, nervous and scared.  There was so much to do, medication to get ordered, a calendar with my dates of shots, ultrasounds, ect.  May 07 was a very busy month trying to get everything organized. 

The nurse from my clinics office that was in charge of my cycle, was the most amazing women Ive ever met.  Her name was Malia, and I loved her.  She was patient and kind, and knew the pain we had been through on this journey, and treated us both with respect, and understood how scared I was. 

We talked about when we would be starting this.  Should we wait til summer was over?  Enjoy it?  Go on vacation over the 4th and then come home, wait another cycle?  I was due to start Lupron the day we were to arrive in Wisconsin for vacation...well what do we do??  I had no idea.  I really didn't.  I wanted a baby so bad, but really?  Pack my medication on ice?  Take a shot every single day?? 

Well, in the end we did.  And I'm glad we did.  Wes is pretty awesome at giving shots and the needles were pretty small, so it all worked out.  I did have terrible side effects from it though, headaches and dizzy spells.  But I really started feeling like crap when we got home.  (thankfully)

After the Lupron, came the fertility drugs yet again.  My doctor changed up my medication, and so this time I was going to be on a combination of Menopur and Bravelle mixed together, which would also be injected by needle.  We did them in my upper thigh, I couldn't do them in my tummy.   I was in a boating accident when I was 17 years old, and was hospitalized for a week.  They had to give me shots in my stomach to make sure I didn't get blood clots.  Ive been scarred ever since! 

Here is a look at all my IVF cycle medication.

That collection is quite scary looking, but I can assure you that my IVF cycle was the least stressful of them all.  Not emotionally, but physically.  I was in good hands, my shots were easy, my ultrasounds every other day were quick and painless...nothing like the other place.  These people were amazing! 

The clinic I was going to, also had a hospital were I could do my ultrasounds to check my egg growth, in my town.  So we would have to travel to Indianapolis for the egg retrieval, and the egg transfer (if we got to the egg transfer) which is about 3 hours away.  We found a nice hotel right across from the hospital, and one of my best friends works there, so it worked out!! 

After 11 days of shots , the day was here!  My body had responded well to the medication, and we were on our way to the retrieval!!!  I was totally knocked out for it, don't remember a thing.  I do remember waking up, and the first thing Wes said was they got 8. 
 8? 
That's it?
  All of that, and 8?
 I hear of people getting 13-15!!!  I only had 8.  I was counting myself out already. 

My clinic does a 3 day transfer.  My babies grew in a dish for 3 days, and then we went back to Indianapolis for the transfer.  We decided on 2.  We got to the clinic, and I was prepped and ready to go.
It was time!
When the biologist came out,  I asked her how they looked, and she said I never say this but these are 2 "perfect" embryos.  She told me she never grades them a 4 (the highest they grade) but gave them both a grade 4.  I was all smiles if you can imagine.

So the car ride home was intense.  Every bump we hit I thought I had lost them....I mean, I was pregnant technically right? 

They tell you to wait a certain date before you take a pregnancy test.  I of course didn't wait for that date to come. 
6 days after my transfer,  I tested.  I thought I saw something, but didn't know for sure, so I carried on with my day, and took a test the next morning, and this is what I saw.

So I was just a little overwhelmed, and freaked out. I wasn't sure what to do, or think!  Wes went and bought me a digital, and here you have it.

 I was pregnant!!

Babies!!! 

After all of my blood work to make sure everything was going smooth, we had our first ultrasound.  The tech started in...Wes immediately saw the second sac.  TWINS.

And that was the day my life was changed forever.  That was the day, I feel in love with 2 tiny dots on a screen.


They were born on March 19th, 2008.  Abigail was 6lbs5oz, and Alexandra was 5lbs8oz.

Here we were in 2014

And here we are now!

Our journey was long, and hard.  But we never gave up.  I knew in my heart I was going to be a Mother someday....so I leave you with this.  Never give up, never stop fighting.  Infertility sucks, but there is always hope.

I got FIXED!

I DID IT! :D

 

Before I go on, I just gotta say this may be a long, pour my heart out kind of post....so bear with me.  

 

I have a history with weight loss.  Over the past 6 years I have struggled to see that number I saw on the scale when I finally got pregnant.  

130lbs.  

I started here, and when I gave birth I weighed 174lbs. 

Without boring you to much, lets just say the past few years have been full of ups and downs.  In October of 2011, I found this amazing opportunity with this amazing company called Beachbody.  I started with Insanity, lost some weight, felt awesome, go back into the 150's I think, and did okay for a bit. Take that pattern, and repeat it...."I did Asylum, did okay for a bit"  "I did Combat, did okay for a bit"  "I did Turbo Fire, and did okay for a bit"

Do you see this cycle? 

If you are taking the time to read this you know I deal with depression.  Not just a little depression, but to the core, could knock me on my knees kind of depression.  This past winter (December of 2013) I remember barely being able to get out of bed to get the girls ready for school....I would get them there, then come home and lay on the couch, in the dark basement, and think I was sick.  I hurt. I even told my husband one day, I thought I was getting the flu. It wasn't the flu. It had come back.  But I was scared to admit it.  I was scared to sit here and face what was in front of me.  

Some how, some way...I let me, fail me, again.  When did it happen?  I'm not really sure.  I remember being at the doctor in early last Spring, and stepping on the scale.  174lbs.  I had gotten back up to my weight the day I gave birth to my twins.  How did this happen?  What on earth was I doing?  And not only that...I had this wonderful opportunity in Beachbody, right in front of me...and I was throwing it all away. I was letting my coaches down, my team down, my family down, and ME down.  

I would like to tell you that something clicked then.  And maybe a little bit did.  I started running....I became a runner.  I loved every second of it, and felt on top of the world when I could run a 5K.  Because I had done it. 

And then....fall came, winter came....and that's when my depression came back.  

I had finally broken out of the 170's and got down to 160, but I was stuck there for what seemed like forever.  October 2013, is when I saw that number on the scale. It was better then 174 right? 

 

When I look back, I realize I had the tools to succeed. I knew what I needed to do. I just didn't do them.  I tried here and there, but it never, ever really CLICKED in my head....I hate cooking, hate meal prepping, hate counting calories, didn't know crap about "macros" and still am not fully sure on those FYI...and basically I made every excuse in the book why I couldn't succeed. 

 

In comes the 21 day fix. 

I was scared.  I was tempted to just not do it.  But a program that can teach you how to eat clean, eat the right amount of calories without weighing your food, figure out your macros, and not only that....it comes with containers to fill your food.....and if it fits in the container, well, you can eat it! 

 

So, how did I do on this program?  Did I make it?  Did I fail again? 

 

Not a chance. 

 

 

 8.5 inches, and 11lbs GONE. 

I made it.  I did it.  You know what happened?  Something clicked.  I finally could eat clean, eat good, eat within my calorie range, get my macros under control, and did it.  I feel amazing.  I don't know why it took me so long to figure this out.  I wanted someone to basically do this for me...and well, the 21 day fix pretty much did it for me! 

 

So happy, so blessed.  So incredibly happy to live with a smile on my face, and feel like that smile is REAL. 

Thanks for reading if you made it this far. :)

 

This week, the girls are celebrating Dr. Seuss.  On Monday they wore something green, on Tuesday it was bring something that can fit in your pocket, today it was wacky hair/socks/clothes day. 

 Tomorrow is dress up like a character from the book.  Me not being the planner I used to be, was thinking they just wouldn't dress up. I'm not creative, at all, and was thinking what on earth would I do anyway?? 
Last night I got to thinking...why not do shirts with thing one and thing two?  Well, I had thought about it before, but never really wanted to put it into action....I could of easily bought the shirts last weekend when I knew tomorrow was the day.  But I sat on it. Then today comes....I decide I'm going to do it.  I see someone post these cute little shirts on Instagram....easy enough.
Ask the Mom how she did it, she gives me directions.
Post on Facebook, asking for help.
All I need is a design, iron on transfer sheets, download a mirror image, iron it on the shirts, and wala! Your done!
Okay...not so simple to a Mom who doesn't do "crafts" and last minute planned for this all.

First I head to Office Depot.  I get what I think I need, and then head to Kmart (right next door) and get 2 red t-shirts.  

After that, I head to my in-laws where there is a printer (mine is broke) and to get the iron (I don't iron)...my BIL helped me resize my pictures so they would fit on the shirts! 

Cute right?  

Then I head home, wash the shirts, then get ready to head to the pick up line and wait for the girls to get off school.

Get home, start ironing the shirts.....get ready to put the image on....ummm wait....

What I have is not right.  I have the image, have the paper....what is wrong? 

Oh yes.  You have to print the damn image out ON THE PAPER THAT I BOUGHT AT OFFICE DEPOT. 

Really? 

So I call my in-laws, head on over, get the girls bundled up, ready to print my images on the paper I need.

Oh yea....you can ONLY use ink printer...not laser printer...which is all my in-laws have.

So we visited for a few, then headed back home.  Hurried up and made dinner for all of us.  And hubby ran to work printing the images on the paper I was supposed to use.  

All was well.  The day was saved.  

Then...the fighting began.

Alex wanted to be thing one....Abby wanted to be thing one because "Alex always is the leader, I want to be the leader" 

ugg.  Really?  

I thought that was okay...and we decided well, Abby was "baby A" (she came out first) and Alex was baby B. So, Abby would be thing one, Alex thing two.

Alex cried.  Wanted to get her way.  It turned into a family deal then...lets talk about this and see what we think.

Final thoughts.

Alex can't cry and get her way....she wanted to be thing one because she thinks being "number one" is better?? I told her it doesn't work like that....Abby can be thing one, no big deal. 

Numbers don't matter. 

Shirts don't matter.

Mommy and Daddy worked hard on these.  We tried to explain it didn't matter...we loved them both the same, and feelings shouldn't be hurt. 

Ugg.....

Just trying to be a good Mom!  And this is what I get....

Yep... super mom to the rescue.  

They were supposed to come out white where it's clear looking...ugg. 

Total fail. 

But hey. I tried.