When you are little and are playing house or think about having babies, it's easy. You know that you fall in love, you get married and when you want to have a baby, you just do. Without complication, without worry, and without disappointment... then you grow up. When I was 19 I got pregnant for the very first time. I had been married for a year and I was excited that we were going to grow our family so quickly, until I woke up in the middle of the night in pain. I assumed that it was normal and went to my doctor appointment, as planned, the next morning. I was told that my levels were low and I would need to take Progesterone to try and aid in keeping my pregnancy going but it was too late. Within 24 hours I was miscarrying completely and that was it. I was no longer pregnant and I was expected to carry on as if nothing was wrong, which I did, pretty darn well might I add, I held myself together and stayed positive. Doctors assured me that this happens a lot and I had no reason to worry about it happening again.  Fast forward five years and, the guy that I thought was perfect, wasn't perfect for me. I met my now husband, David, at work and we have been inseparable for almost nine years now, four of those married. :)

    Everything was falling into place and I assumed that my last pregnancy didn't work out because i wasn't with the right person so when I had my second positive pregnancy test I knew that it wasn't the perfect time but it was with the right guy and that was perfect enough for me. Unfortunately, that pregnancy was cut short at 6 weeks, just like the first. I was taking the vitamins and I was taking the progesterone so I was completely stunned when they told me there was no heartbeat at my first ultrasound. Even then, I stayed positive. I was in my early twenties, I had plenty of time to have a child and the doctors were encouraging in that it was just a fluke.1 in 4 women experience a miscarriage and even though some may have 1-3 miscarriages they usually go on to have healthy babies so why would I think I was any different? A year later, another positive pregnancy test! Six weeks go by and before I could even get to the doctor, another miscarriage. I went to my gynecologist and asked what could be done. So, I had tests ran, nothing. I had scans done,--reproductive organs look great!-- It was very confusing when they would say, "These things just happen sometimes." Right, but why? Why me?



   The next year I had my fourth miscarriage, I don't even remember much of it. I do remember thinking, "Whatever, why do I even try?" I stayed in bed and just dealt with the pain until it went away...physically. Emotionally, I pulled myself together for family members that had baby showers, friends that announced their pregnancies and birthday parties for babies that were turning one. As someone that has dealt with sickness her whole life, I don't like pity and I do NOT want anyone to feel sorry for me. I am definitely a person who understands that we all have our battles and where I struggle with one thing I excel where someone else falls short. It wasn't until my fifth miscarriage that it really hit me, I may never have children. It was the hardest because there were two sacs, twins, I heard a heartbeat two weeks prior and I thought that it was finally happening. My mom went to the next ultrasound with me and as soon as the screen lit up I knew something was wrong. There was no change from the last ultrasound, no growth, no heartbeats, just empty sacs. I broke down with my mom, the nurse and the doctor in the room with me. We decided to wait over the weekend before deciding to have a D&E, due to there being two sacs my body wasn't passing them on its own and I had ALWAYS preferred to let it happen naturally so I was extremely upset that I was going to have to have a procedure that, with one wrong move, could cause serious complications. I spent that weekend in denial and swore that they were fine, I refused to believe that I was not pregnant anymore until Monday morning when I saw that they were definitely not growing and there was nothing I could do. December 6,2011 I had a D&E and was sent home to lay in pain, no longer pregnant. I told David that if he had his heart set on having his own children then I would not hate him for leaving me and finding someone that could give him that.He told me that he loved me, I would be a mom and we would get through it together. On January 28,2012 we were married and on February 28,2012 we were pregnant. I went straight to the doctor who immediately put me on progesterone and baby aspirin, as well as regular office visits every two weeks.
                               

   Bristol Kinleigh was born November 13,2012 at 9:47pm after 32 hours of labor and a cesarean due to my body not allowing her to go through the birth canal. She weighed 9lbs and was 21 inches long with a head full of hair. My pregnancy with her was a breeze. I had zero morning sickness, I gained 25 lbs and the only issue I had was gestational diabetes within the last few weeks which did result in insulin shots four times a day. When I was finally able to hold her I immediately wanted them to put her back in my stomach, she was safe there and I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. I was 29 years old and clueless even though I had told myself I knew what to do because I had babysat, I had a niece and nephew so that's all you need right? Wrong. I was so wrong. Even then,as clueless as I was, she was a wonderful baby. On her second night home she slept through the night and I woke up terrified that she wasn't breathing. Every thing was perfect and we just knew that when we were ready to have a second child there would be no problems and we would know what to do. Again,we were wrong.
                                  
On Bristol's first birthday I had my sixth miscarriage. I kept it quiet for a few days because I was celebrating the miracle who just turned one and I was blessed but I was still a little heartbroken. Selfishly, I wanted to give my husband a son. He is the only boy in his family and I knew how much he wanted a son. So, I went to a doctor more suited for my situation and after A LOT of tests I was diagnosed with Thrombophilia. Thrombophilia is a condition where the blood has an increased tendency to form clots. Blood clots can cause problems such as deep vein thrombosis (DVT) or pulmonary embolism. I also found out that my body has a hormone imbalance that was preventing me from creating a placenta, which is why the previous pregnancies would go no further than 6-8 weeks. That with the clotting disorder is what was causing my recurring miscarriages.

     In late January of 2014 I was pregnant again, this time I KNEW, with a boy. We went to the doctor, I was put on progesterone (AGAIN) and Lovenox shots. Every day, for nine months, I had to inject medicine into my stomach to help keep clots from forming but I would have injected 200 shots a day for my baby. (Okay, that may be pushing it. ;) ) I was due October 3,2014 and he was definitely a boy! I. WAS. ECSTATIC. Until August when I kept getting double vision, dizziness and headaches. I went to the doctor for a stress test and was immediately put on bed rest. My liver enzymes were elevated, my blood pressure was through the roof and, if I didn't want to be hospitalized, I was not to be up more that fifteen minutes at a time. The boy was trying to kill me and I fully intend on telling him that when he gets older. (Kidding...maybe!) We waited until 37 weeks and we could not wait any longer, Granger Allen was born on September 19,2014 at 6:00pm weighing in at 7lb 6oz and 19 3/4 inches long via repeat cesarean with a head full of blonde hair. He was here, he was healthy and he completed our family, not by being a boy, but just by being born.


     I now have a threenager who thinks that she is the cutest girl to ever be born and I may be bias but I have to agree with her. She loves to do her own makeup, brush her teeth, look at herself in the mirror and pretend as if she is doing YouTube videos. I often post the silly things she says on Facebook because I am certain that she was born talking and even though she can ramble on for hours (like her momma) we wouldn't change her sass for the world. Her favorite things are barbie dolls, baby dolls, surprise eggs, skirts, dresses, and purses. When it comes to my son, he truly is a rough housing little boy. That smile gets him out of trouble and he knows how to use it to his advantage, with anyone. If you hand him a toy that has wheels on it he will play with it for hours. He loves trains, cars and planes as well as balls. He will yell, "BALL!!", the second that he catches a glimpse of one and he can keep himself entertained with that one ball for as long as you will let him or until you offer him something to eat because I am pretty sure his stomach is a bottomless pit! I could complain on end about how my oldest will knock her brother down just because he is younger or how he will jump on her just to get her attention. I could rant about how they fight over the same toy (that neither one wanted to play with until the other one started playing with it), and I do complain, every mother does. All in all, I will take all of the things that they do that pushes my buttons, because that means that I have the angels that I always prayed for.
                                    

   I'm often told I'm strong, I'm brave and I then get asked how I could keep trying after so much trouble but, the truth is, there was no giving up for me. I may have been told there was a possibility I would never bear my own children but I knew that wasn't the case for me. I know how it feels to be repeatedly asked if you want to have children. I know how it feels to be invited to baby showers and birthday parties when you know you will be surrounded by adorable kids and people that will ask when you will be having your own. I know how it feels to see people not care about the precious babies they have at home and continue to do drugs while pregnant. It all hurts, but it's something that you have to deal with in your own way or it will defeat you. I am lucky enough to be surrounded by family, friends and most definitely a husband who has never treated me as if I am broken. I have an amazing support system and even though it took ten years, six miscarriages, a lot of tests and even more medication, I am blessed with two kids who make me laugh every single day. I hate the saying, "this is what women's bodies are made to do." As if my body has some how betrayed me and I am not "fit" to bear children. We are all different and thankfully with the advancements in medicine and technology, those of us who have complications are able to get more answers and have a greater chance of getting the things we so desperately want. I wanted nothing more than to be a mother and I am thankful EVERY. SINGLE. DAY that I get to complain about messes, about whiny kids that need a nap, about being exhausted, about watching Caillou for, what feels like, the one millionth time and for the fact that I get so frustrated when they fight because getting slobbery kisses and hearing "I love you" from the only ones who know what your heartbeat sounds like from the inside, is the best feeling in the world.