This isn't how I wanted to announce this

I've been keeping this (mostly) to myself, because I'm a fairly logical person.  Logical and conventional...boring, traditional.  You know the type.

Apparently, you aren't supposed to announce your pregnancy till the 2nd trimester.  And for good reason.  I remember seeing someone's play-by-play of having a miscarriage on Facebook and being shocked (not in a good way).  Like overkill shocked.  Like I didn't want to know all that.  Makes sense, even though most people are nicer than me and wouldn't think that.  Maybe.

But guys, I'm there again.  I'm pregnant, again.  I have known for over a month.  I was so happy.  We were so happy.  I was overjoyed and there were no miscarriage symptoms.  I've just been gaining weight, having super human smell, sore breasts, and a hard time keeping my breath when I work out or climb stairs.

Cue the first ultrasound at 6 weeks.  I have no idea why we went in this early, but we did.
And the tech's face fell.  He was pretty much like "Oh my gosh...it's SO small".
This apparently happens sometimes when you are not as far along as you thought.  But I track my cycle, I know exactly when I ovulated, and it doesn't make sense to be that far off.

So they tell us to come back in a week for another ultrasound which will show if things are viable or not.  And the baby has grown! It's grown, but not enough.  And now they see two.  Twins.
Two tiny little gestational sacs, but no embryos yet.  This far along we should see something.  But I have to come back in another week.

So two weeks of waiting limbo...two weeks of not knowing if I'm going to actually be a mom this time.  Taking my vitamins and avoiding everything I'm supposed to avoid.  And not telling people I'm pregnant, because you aren't supposed to do that.

And suddenly, it's tomorrow.  I'm going in tomorrow to see if my little twin babies are going to make it.  I can't tell you how much anxiety and depression I'm feeling right now.  Part of me doesn't want to know at all...just to go along with the pregnancy and hope for the best.  I don't even know what compels me to write this other than I'm so scared that these babies will pass away and no one will ever know they existed.

I don't understand any of this.
I am sad and scared.
I don't want to lose not one, but two babies this time.
This isn't fair.
Life isn't fair.
No one said it was supposed to be...but it's so hard to see pregnant women lumbering around so easily.  With other kids in tow...and here's me...not even showing yet, and terrified I won't be pregnant much longer.

God have mercy on me.  If you can spare a prayer for me, please do.  I'm a mess.

Waiting and Watching

...That's what Advent is all about, right?

And that's where I am these days.  I have a lot going on and a lot to say, but I'm holding back for now.  Please pray for me if you get a chance.  God knows why.

It's a lovely, lazy Saturday here at our cozy little home.  I'm so happy to be here with my hubby.  We are still in our pajamas, playing games and watching movies.  It's idyllic. 

Someone needs to do the housework, eventually.

My miscarriage

I've started to write this post multiple times, and each time I've hit a mental roadblock.  In things like this it's some times best to just say it and not try to be wordy or clever.  So here it is:

I've had a miscarriage.

Why do I feel the need to publically say this?  I have always felt a little iffy toward people who share this very private sad thing with the world, almost as if it's too intimate let it out to non-family and close friends.  So why am I now doing it?

Because I had no idea how hard this early miscarriage would hit me, and how alone I would feel.  I don't have a huge support system, especially in the summer when I'm not working.  I have my precious husband and very close family and a few friends, but that's all.  I've been comforted with things when sharing it which have been very comforting and helpful.  I've also been told some unhelpful things, such as "lots of people have this happen to them", "you should smile, because God wants you to be happy".  But mostly it's deafening silence and loneliness. 

My pregnancy wasn't very far along, at all,  but it was still my baby.  It was still a life.  It was still a child I will never get to hold.  This was my first pregnancy.  The roller coaster of that first few days of elation when finding out, only to be crushed with worry and then utter heartbreak later.

I am very depressed, especially since my husband went back to work the day after the miscarriage occured.  I am still home for two weeks before I start teaching again.  I am trying so hard to stay busy and get things done, but I'm having a hard time.  I'm very hopeful that I will get pregnant again, since this was so soon after my surgery.  But there's always that fear: that nagging feeling that this was the only time and that I'll never have a child. 

I've placed myself in Jesus' hands and He has never let me down. 
If you please could say a prayer for me, I would much appreciate it. 

My little saint in Heaven - Aug 3rd, 2019

Operating Table Opera

Funny story!





I had day surgery yesterday. I alerted the anesthesiologist ahead of time that I am a professional singer and intubation was not an option for me. He agreed to use an LMA so no harm would come to my vocal cords. The downside to telling him about being a singer was that when I was wheeled into the operating room, the entire team was asking me to sing something. Ordinarily I would have declined, but I'd already had an IV full of Propofol and Versed, so I was high as a kite. I burst into "O Mio Babbino Caro" right there on the operating table, but I was displeased with my sound and started explaining that I wasn't warmed up, but as soon as I tried to explain, a mask with delicious gas was placed over my face, and I was gone.


Anesthesia is a strange and wonderful thing. I am so thankful for modern medicine, and for medical staff who must be thoroughly entertained on a daily basis.

A New Day

I've had some down days this week.  It's really been a whirlwind.  I have thought a lot about how open or not open I want to be in our TTC journey (I really hate the word "journey" sometimes, as it's applied to every single thing in life in peoplespeak).  But hey, we've been married just over a year, trying to have a baby, and I'm old.

So I have had blood tests and pills and sonograms and shots, and this month I thought I was pregnant.  I even got a positive test.  Then a negative test the next day.  I thought I was having a chemical pregnancy (very early miscarriage) and was devastated.  But the blood test and doctor said I wasn't.  I'm still confused about this. 

That was all 3 days ago, and I'm just now rebounding from it.  My sweet husband has been all kinds of sweet and strong.  He came to rehearsal with me last night and just sat and read a book next to me so I could have him there.  I love him.

Today I feel much better.  I am out to conquer the world, as soon as I get out of bed.  I have two sweet doggies next to me.  I'm out of school for the summer.  Depression isn't hitting me as hard today as it has the past few days.  I'm okay with not being pregnant, and I marked this by having a glass of wine last night.  I have been cleaning my house and working on a quilt and a few various other projects around the house.  Getting to have that little bit of caffeine in the morning feels amazing. 

Let's have a good day, okay? 

Christian Music

I used to really try to fit into a Christian box.

The years between 2002-2004 ..ish  I was going to Dallas Baptist University, which was full of evangelicals who all liked the same music.  I remember listening to these foreign sounding songs in chapel, and I would close my eyes and try to feel the same intense emotions everyone else seemed to be feeling.  But I just felt empty and sad.  I believed, and knew I SHOULD feel this joy like everyone else did, but I didn't. 

I would seek out those songs on the radio and try to force myself to listen to them (CCM - Contemporary Christian Music), but it sounded so vapid to me.  Empty.  I didn't like that music, and I didn't try very long.

I found solace in choral music we were singing in DBU Choral. 
And I still do.
I like it when I go to mass, now, and don't have to feel anything.  I can just exist, in silence.  Silence and listening and watching.  Just how I like it. 

Lionhearted Girl

John Everett Millais, “Joan of Arc” (1865) // Florence + the Machine, “Rabbit Heart (Raise it Up)” (2009)



We gotta be strong.
We can't let the darkness overcome us.
Even when fellow Catholics throw us under the bus, we must keep our eyes on Jesus.


From Covington School boys...back to Joan of Arc.
Faithful Catholics staying strong.


May I love Jesus so much that I am calm and still in the face of mockery and hate.