Glitter and Unicorns

Last night’s post was a bit depressing, but that’s where I was at the moment. A bad headspace after a bad night. This morning didn’t start out any better, and the attitude of my oldest continued. Come evening, I go to pick him up from my parents, and he starts again. We get into the car and I tell him: you have two choices to make. You can either choose to have a good night, or you can choose to have a bad night. He told me then he wanted to choose a good night.

From that moment to when he went to sleep, he was pleasant and we had a good evening. I put him to bed, and I thanked him for making good choices tonight and it makes me very happy.

After the kiddos go to bed, I did my evening workout. My new go-to is Beachbody’s On Demand: 645. It’s my new favorite. The instructor is good, gives good instruction, and tonight he ended with some positive profound statements I needed to hear.

As the instructor is talking, and I’m “cooling down”, I realize to myself: the universe just threw me some glitter and unicorns tonight. And for that, I’m super thankful. 🦄🙏🏼


Day 3.

Today was our youngest birthday – he’s 4 and I don’t know where the time has gone! I feel bad though, because today was a really rough day with his older brother. We have had some behavioral issues with the oldest one since he was a toddler. The root of the problem is he doesn’t know how to express his feelings. There’s a lot that goes with it, but the short story is how he acted as a toddler he just hasn’t grown out of.

We took the youngest out for his birthday dinner, and his brother said some very hurtful things to us (meaning myself and my DH). I know kids say things they don’t mean, but sometimes after years of the same thing, it starts to wear on you.

And what’s worse is my husband and I went through three years of fertility treatments to have him. We wished for him and wanted him. There wasn’t a thing we wouldn’t do to try our hardest to get him. And, we finally did. He was our dream come true and I remember the excitement I had when I finally got a positive pregnancy test.

I say all of this, not to say that I regret it. But, when days are super rough like today was, it always makes me wonder. Was God trying to tell me not to have kids? Was there a hidden warning that I wouldn’t be a good mother? Or, that I wasn’t meant to be a mom?

Instead of being able to enjoy a dinner with both of my kids to celebrate a birthday, I was eating dinner wishing it was over. And now I feel guilty because the night was shadowed with negativity instead of having a good time.

Once again, wondering where the glitter and unicorns are…

Day 2.

Today, DH and I took a day off to spend with our almost four year old (birthday tomorrow). In all the hopes of it being a good day, we started it out as any other normal day in our household. Full of chaos. Sometimes I wonder if any day can be filled with glitter and unicorns. It would be nice to have two cooperating chillens who can listen to us, and do the things they know they need to do: potty, hands, teeth, dressed. We say that like drill sergeants And yet, these two little humans, with minds of their own, act like what we ask is the first time they have heard it.

I know, I know, this is the common bitch about parents trying to navigate parenthood. But, I wonder if the issue is us and not them.

Why is it in our society, we are always rushing to the next thing? We are like robots: getting our kids ready for the day and feeding them, and somehow we manage to get our shit together and out the door. Kids go to school, we go to work (work our tails off), then I’m rushing to get home to cook, feed, and get the kids to bed. It’s pure chaos all.the.time. After a week of this, we just wish for the weekend to arrive; we can relax as a family before the chaos ensues again. *insert glitter and unicorns here* Of course the joke is on us, because the weekend is full of the same chaos as the weekdays, but we are home together all the time.

I wish time can slow down, and I wish things can be how I hope them to be at times. With the chaos of every day life, I wonder why I clench my jaw (when I actually notice when I’m doing it). Or, how I can no longer fully let go in relaxation. I’m tense. I’m rigid. And I’m wound tight and wonder why I have a short fuse box.

This is my every day life with anxiety. I never noticed it before until the pandemic. And frankly, maybe the pandemic is what put the anxiety in overdrive. Last year, my oldest son had a situation that happened to him. And in turn, it happened to me. I felt helpless. Thankfully, no long term affects seem to have been done, and he’s getting the help he needs. But, for me, that was the cherry on top to send me to the hospital twice for panic attacks. I’ve never experienced one in my life.

Panic attack #1: I was driving alone in the dark, and on a country road. One side of my hand went numb. I continued to drive. I had shadows appear in my eyes. Again, I continued to drive. My heart started racing, and I quickly felt like I was going to lose consciousness. I pulled into the first driveway I could find, blared my horn, and dialed 911. My pulse was at 140. The ambulance took some time to get to where I was, so I called my husband. I have learned he is not the person to call when you are in a crisis. He started to freak out that he didn’t know where I was or where my car would be left. I got off the phone as quick as I could, stumbled out of the car, and found the house address. Thankfully I knew the road I was on, so he could find my car. The medics arrive and put oxygen on me and asked if I’ve ever had a panic attack before. They took me to the nearest hospital to get checked out. Of course all was well, so I chalked it up to a super scary fluke.

Panic attack #2: It’s a Saturday and I’m watching tv with the kids. The husband is upstairs taking a shower. It’s like a light switch was turned on and I started to have pain in my left arm. Soon after, my pulse starts to increase quickly, and I have the same feeling of passing out. I run up to the bathroom to tell my husband what’s going on, and he asks if he should call the ambulance. I tell him no, trying to fight the fear of a heart attack out of my head. My pulse is at 140 again and holding steady. I lay on the floor to try to calm myself down, but the fear of an impending heart attack scares the shit out of me. After 10 minutes of my pulse elevated, I call my mom to stay with the kids so I can go to the ER. My DH drives me, and it felt like the longest ride of my life. After a 5 hour stay, I’m discharged in good health and told me to see my primary doctor to maybe have a referral to a cardiologist.

My DH and I got in the car. I told him that if my cardiac tests check out, I want to go on anti anxiety meds. I can’t continue to have these attacks and wonder if I’m dying. God forbid, I’m driving with the kids in the car when another one hits. My husband is NOT a believer in these meds, but even he agreed with my thoughts.

I got the results of my stress test and echo a few weeks later. All was clear and I was at low risk of a cardiac event. I should have been happy. But, my reaction was to break down and cry. DH was confused and said it was good news. I agreed, but that meant that what I experienced was panic attacks and I felt like I’m crazy. I wasn’t hoping for some terminal heart condition, but I was hoping for some glimmer of an explanation. There wasn’t any. Or, at least an explanation I wanted to hear. I had anxiety and I needed to try to manage it.

Starting to take a low dose of anxiety meds has made my life so much better. I quickly realized I was suffering when I shouldn’t have been. They don’t make me full of glitter and unicorns, and I still struggle each day with the chaos. But, even through my clenched jaw and tense shoulders, I’m able to plug through the motions without having a crying meltdown wondering what happened to my life. I’m trying to slow down. I’m trying to breathe through it all, and try to enjoy the imperfect life I’m living. I love my kids. I love my husband. We aren’t perfect, and every morning is pure chaos. Maybe the glitter and unicorns will rain on me one day. But, I’m accepting that may never happen, and I’m trying to learn to be okay with that.

Day 1.

I’ve been on a blogging hiatus for a very long time, and frankly, I’m not quite sure where to begin. I guess, I’ll start with a quick life recap on the past 7 years:

  • Our miracle baby #1 after many years of fertility treatments is going to be turning 7 in less than a month.
  • Our miracle baby #2 (conceived naturally by a miracle in itself) is going to be turning 4 in just 2 days.
  • My DH and I are actively looking for our “forever” home.
  • I have a very demanding, but rewarding job.

7-10 years ago, I would have listed that off in my mind thinking that would be my happily ever after. But, does that really exist? Once you feel like you have it all, life sure likes to shake you back to reality.

Things are good. I have a great job, a supporting husband, and two amazing boys. But, I’m human. I’m struggling. This past year:

  • I’ve had 4-5 panic attacks since the pandemic hit.
  • I’ve learned I love my family, but there’s only so much togetherness we all can take.
  • I’ve learned that over my years of life, I struggle with addiction for food. Yes, it’s an addiction.
  • I’ve learned when I’m stressed, I automatically reach for sugar to cope.

Addiction is such a strong word, and I didn’t think being addicted to food/sugar was a real thing. My husband would say “just have one cookie, not five”. But, that’s like telling an alcoholic to have one drink. You can’t control yourself once you start. That’s how I am with sugar. There is no control.

My dad is a recovering alcoholic. Through my anxiety/depression work this year, I’ve learned how strong he is to fight that addiction every day. I would look at my eating habits, shrug my shoulders, and think “well, at least I’m not grabbing a drink.” However, am I doing as much damage to myself?

I was able to go totally sugar free for 40 days. It felt amazing I could conquer my addiction to sugar. I lost weight, felt better about myself, and it felt good to go shopping for smaller clothing. However, I also quickly learned that ruling out sugar was also defeating my fight over my anxiety. My panic attacks increased. Thankfully, with help of my therapist, I started to learn a trigger for my panic attacks was dehydration. An issue with cutting out sugar from the diet, is you can become quickly dehydrated. If you’re not supplementing with electrolytes, it makes the dehydration worse.

I was also tracking my sugar in the mornings (again, obsession/addiction), and my fasting sugar became pre-diabetic levels. I didn’t have a sugar problem prior to cutting out sugar. From Dr. Google, I read going sugar free/keto living, it was normal to have higher levels of fasting sugar. That, the best measurement for sugar was the A1C. But, I realized my newfound diet was making my anxiety and panic attacks worse. Instead of feeling better, I was getting worse. That led me to give up the sugar free way of eating, and went back to my old ways.

Yes, I did well at the beginning. Making sure to keep my portions right and not go overboard. But, Halloween came (usually a trigger for my bad eating to start), and I’ve quickly fallen down the same path I’m used to. Overeating sugar. Overeating, period.

I want to kick this addiction once and for all. I want to do better for myself and my family. I want to set a good example for my kids for a healthy eating and exercising regime. If I have an addictive personality from my father, maybe my kids will also have it.

I want to conquer my anxiety. I want to conquer my depression.

This blog has been a ramble of thoughts, and for that, I apologize. I don’t even expect anyone to read this. I used to blog to get me through a really hard point in my life with fertility struggles. Now that I’m over that hump, I now have the realization of every day life. Life is hard. No matter what you’re dealing with, most of us are struggling with something. Today, my struggle is my addiction.

Day 1. I have been exercising again for 3 days. I started a new Beachbody workout today and I feel great. I’m hoping the rest of today is good with food. Minute by minute..

Post-op Check up

Well, there’s been much sickness in our household, which I will update in another post. However, realized I never updated on my post-op appointment I had a few weeks ago!

All went well- I got to see the “before” and “after” pictures of my insides 😑 he said everything looked healthy and he was happy; so I’ll take it. It pointed out a couple things:

1. He said my Fallopian tubes were beautiful and he almost didn’t want to cut them out.

2. He said the length of the tubes determines how fertile you are “and you can see, your tubes were VERY long so you were VERY fertile!” I LOL’ed 🤣🤣🤣 I told my husband this when I got home, and he says “that’s interesting. Where was all this fertileness 4-6 years ago??!”

3. I had a benign cyst beside my tube that he burned off. I guess it was something I was born with

Other than that, that was it. My incisions are healing well, and now I just need to monitor my periods. I guess they now get worried my cycle will be irregular after surgery. Thankfully, I have my first period right when I expected it first month after surgery, so 🤞🏼 hate to have gone through all of this and still need BC pills for my periods.

So glad this chapter is finally closed!

3 days post-op

Things are going pretty well so far. I didn’t need any Advil yesterday for pain- ion,y took some before bed for safe measure. The incisions aren’t very tender anymore and I have some residual gas pain in my shoulder still, which is just an annoyance. Getting the tubes removed, you’d think there would be tenderness on the inside, but I haven’t really noticed anything thus far.

Still not regretting my decision either- thankfully. I’m still flabbergasted at the thought of never worrying about pregnancy again, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it eventually. I’m looking forward to having sex with my husband for the fun of it and not having that worry in the back of my mind.

I’ve been secretly wondering when the hubby would finally through away our stash of condoms.. I half expected him to throw them out the moment I got home from surgery. I mentioned it to him yesterday, and he asked “well.. when does this become effective?” I’m sure my facial expression was priceless. REALLY?! The tubes are g-o-n-e.. it’s effective immediately! 🤦🏻‍♀️ the last I checked, I’m not HIGHLY fertile anyways, but apparently he thinks there’s some magical unicorn egg awaiting in my uterus. I had to explain fertility and how it all works, since I’m practically a specialist after everything we have gone through. Not sure if he believed my knowledge or not, but alas, the condoms have vacated the premises and have been thrown away 😂

The no exercising part of recovery is driving me a bit bonkers; especially since I feel pretty good. I’m allowed to walk a week after surgery for cardio. Unfortunately I live in an environment where it’s currently snowing, so not sure how much walking I’ll get in. I’m cleared for all activities 2 weeks post-op. I cannot wait!

Surgery is done.

Yesterday leading up to surgery day, I was a bit of a disaster. I’ve quickly realized having surgery before kiddos is a lot different than having surgery with kiddos. You think about things more and you truly realize how precious life is and how quickly it can be taken away. I’m not necessarily scared of death, but I’m scared to death about the thought of leaving my kids. I decided I wanted to write my husband, and my kids each a letter, just in case. I was a disaster writing them, and even more so writing A’s letter. He’s just over one and the realization that if something did happen to me during surgery, he wouldn’t remember his mommy at all. The mere thought tore me up. Anyways, I somehow made it through the letters and either my husband didn’t notice the huge bags under my eyes from crying, or he chose not to say anything. Disclaimer: he has no idea I wrote these.. I locked myself in the bathroom.. 🤷🏻‍♀️🙄

My in-laws took the kids for the night since I had to be at the surgery center bright-and-early, so the hubby and I decided to go to dinner. We talked about the upcoming surgery and he said I could change my mind if I wanted. We talked about the ideal time to have a 3rd (if we would do it), and he would be 40 and I would be in the upper 30s.. that just isn’t what we want at that age. We want to enjoy the two chillens we have and be able to start taking some family trips and not be tied down to a newborn. I also am highly against getting pregnant again because I feel like the postpartum depression would win and I would get swallowed up in the black hole I so tiptoed around this time. I’m finally feeling like a functional human again and I DO NOT want to go back there. Lastly, there was a day (not so long ago), we never thought we would have one child- but we have been truly blessed with two. Why should we even try to ask for anything more than that? So, the decision was final and I wanted to move forward with the surgery. *as a side note, I was highly looking forward to decreasing any sort of chance for getting ovarian cancer, I was all about getting my tubes completely removed.

This morning I arrived at the surgery center at 6:00 am and the surgery started promptly a little after 7:00 am. I’m told all went smoothly and he was successful at removing both tubes completely. The tubes have been sent to pathology for testing (I’m told this is routine). The surgery lasted about 30-45 minutes. I woke up pretty quickly from anesthesia and thankfully no nausea or vomiting, thus far 🙌🏼🙌🏼

The incisions are a bit sore (mostly stinging sensation) and I’m bleeding a bit downstairs; which has even slowed down quite a bit since I’ve gotten home.

Other than that, I don’t feel too different. I’m not sad or regret the surgery so far. I think our decision on why we were doing it was solid, so I don’t anticipate any regret moving forward. The thought of never having to worry about getting pregnant sort of baffles my mind. I think since we were stuck in the infertility chapter for years, it’s sort of second-nature to look for pregnancy signs and fertility signs. So, to just turn off the switch I don’t think will happen quickly.

With all of that said, we have come out the other side of infertility chapter pretty well. Even though we had many bumps and roadblocks, somehow we ended up with two amazing boys and I’m humbled that we are their parents. It truly doesn’t get any better than this, and I look forward to watching both of them grow and us being a family of 4 ❤️💕


I had the consult appt yesterday morning. He said they now remove the whole Fallopian tube vs “tubes tied” because they are finding it will reduce a woman’s chances of ovarian cancer by removing the tubes completely. I will need one full week off of work and the procedure should be pretty routine.

I told him about my bladder/pelvic symptoms: have a lot of pressure/pain in my pelvis after I jog.. I feel like I have to urinate all the time. Sometimes I stand up and feel as though I haven’t emptied my bladder completely and have to move around to get the right angle to empty myself. Yes, joys of vaginal births, sigh. He is having me do an ultrasound next week to check for ovarian cysts, and I think the also see if he can tell if things have “started to drop”. But, he said he will be looking around in there during surgery to access where things are and if things have started to move downward. 🤷🏻‍♀️

As far as the husband, him and I had a really good talk tonight. I told him I had to understand his reasoning completely before I could move forward with the surgery and feel good about it. He explained that he has been feeling so overwhelmed with stress: work, life, etc that he is barely holding on and can’t take on one more thing right now. He went on to his fears, health-wise, too. He understands I want/need to get this done now, but he can’t do it for me right now. Honestly, I know he’s been stressed. I’ve been emotionally/physically drained and the feeling of drowning (hence PPD and therapy), so I get it. Which is the exact reason why him or I need to get something done now. Him and I cannot afford to take on one more baby- we would be pushed passed our breaking point. I know this, and I know we have reached our limit.

So, I understand his reasoning. I do know him, and if he doesn’t want to do something, he won’t do it; which I told him that. However, I do believe him and it wasn’t the fact that he wasn’t willing to do it, he’s just not willing to think about needing to do one more thing right now. His fear is that I will resent him for this and will want to leave him down the road. Or, this would be a deal breaker for me now and want to leave him.

So, I’m feeling better about getting this surgery done. His reasoning made sense to me and I’m just relieved he’s not doing it because he’s scared of it or because he’s unsure we will work out and want to keep himself “together” just in case.

Surgery is scheduled for January 7th. With all the fertility treatments, in the back of my mind, I’m terrified they are going to find something scary in there during surgery. I’m scared to wake up and find out they needed to do more or they found I have ovarian cancer. Honestly, that’s what my fear is about this surgery. But, I need to stay positive and hope for the best. I’ll be relieved when all of this is behind us.

Consult scheduled.

I’ve scheduled my tubal consult for tomorrow morning. The one thing I’ve been a little concerned about, besides the obvious, is I’m hoping I’m not having a prolapse issue. If I do, this tubal will be easier for me to swallow since there would be another medical reason for surgery.

When we talked about me having the surgery, he said that he does not want to be in a marriage where I will resent him for the rest of his life. And he wanted to make it clear that he was not forcing me into it. I told him, I have NO choice. I don’t want to be taking BC pills anymore and he hates condoms. So it HAS to be him or me. And apparently, I don’t have a choice because he’s not willing to do it.

I hope I don’t end up resentful for this. But, I can’t help to think, in this moment, that my husband is a selfish coward. It hurts my heart that he’s not willing to give any physical sacrifice for me. And I’m not sure if I’ll want him there during surgery day.

We will see what the doctor says tomorrow. I have a lot to think about.

Edit: I’d like to make this clear, as I’m not upset at my husband for the surgery itself. I’m 100% sure my baby-making days are over, and if I didn’t have the history for fertility treatments, and we were a “normal” reproductive couple, I’m pretty certain him and I wouldn’t have even talked about a vasectomy. However, what makes me upset, is I feel like him not willing to give something for me sort of discredits the sacrifices I made for him and I to have a family. Like, does he not understand the physical and mental things I went through? Does he not remember the HSG test where my legs were open to a full room of people and the dr could not get the catheter through my cervix? Does he not remember the dr needed to insert a dilator and use a metal catheter to get up there to perform the test and I was in tears because I was absolutely mortified? All the injections, estrogen patches, long needles, procedures, dildo cams… and, after all of that, pregnancies that were not the easiest. And yet, he’s not willing to think about getting two tubes clipped. I just don’t understand how a partner can’t look at it all, and be like, “you know what? As much as I don’t want to do this, you’ve been through enough. I’ll take this one.”

Tubal vs. vasectomy

Here’s the deal: this has been a MAJOR roadblock in my marriage. This has been hanging over us and our household for months and it’s just a roadblock that just doesn’t seem to go away. I’ve asked my husband to think about a vasectomy for these reasons:

1. I have done enough to my body with fertility drugs, treatments, laparoscopic surgery to rule out endometriosis, egg retrieval during IVF, etc.

2. I’ve done enough with pregnancy and labor.

3. I’ve put my body through enough with hormone injections and years of birth control pills.

4. For the argument of it shouldn’t be 100% the woman’s responsibility 100% off the time.

Now, 1-2 my husband couldn’t do anything about it. We both wanted children, and it was a sacrifice I KNEW I had to make if we ever would have a family. I can tell you IVF and Frozen Embryo Transfer protocols scared the daylights out of me, and I spent many, many tears over the decision. What would it be doing to my body, long-term? What would I be doing to my body, if in the end, it didn’t work? I hated I had to make the decision, but it was the sacrifice I felt it was worth to have a family. And, it frankly was the cards I was dealt. My husband couldn’t step in for me and make the sacrifice to take fertility injections; it HAD to be me.

So, now in the present: we are talking about permanent birth control and he can NOW stand up and decide to take this away from me. He can make a sacrifice to his body so I don’t have to go through another procedure and more risk. And yet, he’s made no decision. Well, really making no decision IS his decision.

After being scared of getting pregnant this past week, I’ve decided I’m moving forward with getting my tubes done. I will be waiting for my husband FOREVER, because if he doesn’t want to do something, he won’t ever do it. Which sucks and pisses me off because I shouldn’t have to make this sacrifice. But, being pregnant and having another baby would be more of a sacrifice. I’m doing this for ME and not for him.

I haven’t told him my decision yet for 2 reasons. 1: I feel like it’s going to start a fight because he hasn’t stepped up to making a decision. And 2: selfishly, it’s going to piss me off to see the relief in his eyes that he doesn’t have to get his man parts snipped.

Update: him and I had a talk and that’s for a different post.. I’m still going to move forward with a tubal.