Category Archives: Survival

{Infertile Me} Operation Take Home Baby

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I spent Tuesday working from home and anxiously awaiting the FedEx truck. I poked my head out the door at the sound of a truck, no truck was to be seen. Waiting was harder than I thought. This just wasn’t a regular package, this package had been carefully packed and contained a little over $10,000.00 in medication and supplies. That package was our ticket to a take home baby.

Somewhere between staring at spreadsheets and listening for trucks I noticed Cullen scratching at the door. Finally FedEx had arrived. The sweet delivery woman threw Cullen a treat and asked “where’s your kitchen honey, this needs to be refrigerated.” I showed her to the kitchen and signed for the packages. Overwhelmed is how I felt when I looked at my medicine filled counter. It all sank in that I was going to go through with IVF and that this was my one and only chance for a baby.

Somewhere between the needles and vials lies a seed of hope, hope that I to will get to be a mom. IVF is not for the faint of heart, it’s a journey for the strongest of the strong. It’s scary as fuck. You can put in all of the time, effort and money and still walk away without a baby. It’s literally a crap shoot. It’s left up to God and Science. I start priming at the end of August and with a lot of faith and a little luck the egg retrieval will be in September. If we get viable embryos they will be frozen and in November we will transfer our little thawed embryo that could back to me.

Hope and faith become your fuel, you my dear become unstoppable. Right now I cannot comprehend this process in its entirety, if I did I’d talk myself out of it. All I can comprehend right now is eggs. Once eggs are extracted I can allow myself to think about embryos. Once our embryos are safely frozen I can start to think about transfer. After transfer I can start to think about pregnancy. I struggle with the pregnancy piece, it scares the shit out of me and makes me anxious.

I’ve been pregnant twice before which ended in losses. My babies rest in the heavenly skies and paint the colors of the sunrise. My heart cannot take another “I’m sorry there isn’t a heart beat” or “I’m sorry there is not fetal pole.” Those words cut through you like a knife, you cannot think, you just freeze and the tears begin to fall. Your worst nightmare becomes your reality and there is no backing away from it. A piece of your heart lies in heaven and you must walk this earth without them.

My heart she is wise and she knows that we can only do this once. I pray that my third time and Jay’s second does not lead to heartache. I desperately long for the day where I can feel the weight of our take home baby in my arms. That day, my turn is coming. We are all in and there is no looking back! Because the rainbow we’ve been chasing is finally in our grasp.

{Infertile Me} IVF Is Not For Certian 

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There is a misconception that IVF is a given. That  everyone who goes through with IVF gives birth to a baby. Truth is, it’s not. There are so many moving parts that need to connect just right in order for that science baby to thrive. 

First step, Stims. My body could respond awesomely to stims and grow dozens of eggs. Or it could peater out and we end up with a few or none at all. It’s literally a crap shoot and a shoot we only have one chance at winning. If Stims are successful we get to move to step two. 

Second step, egg retrieval. I could go through this process and find out that my follicles were empty resulting in zero eggs. Or we could get let’s say 10 eggs and out of those 5 will fertilize and if we are lucky we will end up with one viable embryo that makes it to blast. Or out of the 10 hypothetical eggs zero fertilaize and were right back where we started. If we’re lucky we get granted a pass for step 3. 

Third step, frozen embryo transfer. The day we’ve been working toward and praying for. The embryo thaws nicely and is ready to return back to me. We wait, we will have to wait two long weeks to find out if it took. It’s not a guarantee and there are so many factors outside of our control and all we can do is hope for the best. 

Before I can even think about step one through three, I have to sit down with a perinatologist and discuss if it’s even possible for me to safely go through Stims. Stims = crazy amount of hormones that could possible cause another blood clot. Blood clots and AJ do not mix well. Lovenox, will be my new best friend as it will hopefully keep the clots away. I’ve been pegnant twice before so I have no doubt that she will let me move forward. After all it is my body and now the question is “is it safe for me to possibly carry twins?” 

Since we are only doing this once and we are opting out of genetic testing it’s crazy expensive and culturally it doesn’t sit well with me our best bet is to implant two. Two little embryos that could. Twin pregnancies carry lots of risks, risks that my body might not be able to handle for she is battered and bruised. In my heart I feel a little selfish asking God for two beautiful embryos, but two is our best chance in conceiving one. If we get twins we will be overwhelmed , yet very happy. 

For now I am in limbo. I meet with the perinatologist on Thursday and once I get the all clear I call the clinic and we start stiming for an August egg retrieval. The plan is to give my body a month to come off of the Stims and by October we should be ready to implant our little embryos, the baby we’ve been waiting for. 

IVF takes a lot out of you. It’s a lot to wrap your head around and to take in. Like who knew there were so many treatment protocols and that you can pick which gender embryos are implanted. Like holy buckets I can pick if I want girls or boys or one of each. Part of me just wants to tell them “put them in and I’ll find out later” and the other part wants to know. I have a sleeping son and one unknown baby, I think those babies would want a sister. My heart wants a girl, Jay wants a girl, we will most likely transfer a girl embryo. With our luck we will end up with all boys, and we will love them just the same. 

With a little luck and a whole lot of faith we will get a lot of eggs that will turn into viable little embryos, that will become our take home baby(s).  

{Infertile Me} Infertile Mertyle with the old EGGS 

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I am a firm believer in second opinions, especially when it comes to the medical profession. In January I settled in to my fertility clinic, I liked the doctor and her staff, they seemed confident that IUI would work. We did 3 IUI cycles and each one resulted in a big fat negative. Heart breaking, that is what the last 6 months have been. In March I learned that my clinic was not covered under my insurance  plan and that I needed to go to CCRM Minneapolis. I kicked my feet, tried to appeal to the insurance company and eventually gave in and scheduled a consult with CCRM. 

Night and day difference. Dr. Hayes didn’t rely on some other doctor’s data and findings. She ordered a slew of tests for Jay and I. Tests that would tell us our over all reproductive health so she could get a better idea of what we are working with. Since the old clinic said everything on my end was normal, I didn’t give it a second though and was confident CCRM’s findings would be the same. I should know by now nothing in my life is easy…….. AJ with the old eggs, yup that’s me AJ with the old ass eggs. 

I spent months doing IUIs that would never have worked. I’ve got old eggs and Jay’s got dumb swimmers. In that moment I felt a little violated by the other clinic and instantly wondered did they know about this and just carried on for the money? I’m sure they knew my resting egg count was low and that only 2% of our swimmers were champs, but they didn’t care, because we paid the bills and so they carried on with treatment. I can’t think about this, if I do it will just cause me more stress than I need right now. I want to believe that they had good intentions but as I’ve learned the IVF industry has a douche canoe around every turn. 

So what happens now? Well our only option of achieving a human of our own is IVF. Each month that ticks by my egg reserve drops, so we need to move quickly. Quick like little bunnies! We already know that we are not going to retrieve a huge number of eggs. At this point we will take what we can get and ICIS will be used to make sure only one swimmer fertilizes the egg. I just pray the our embryos will make it to blast and that will we have one or two to transfer. In my heart of hearts I know my body, she is weary and she can only handle one cycle, we’ve got one shot at this and there will be no do overs. One shot to make CoraLeigh or Oliver a reality. 

Summer. I want a summer. Sophia and Jack need their auntie this summer so IVF is on the back burner until August. In July I am sitting down with a perinatal physician to go over lovenox protocol, when to start it and when to stop it and what dose it should be. We will also be discussing if it is safe for me to carry more than one baby. Once the protocol is determined we will begin the really fun IVF meds and start growing eggs that with a little luck will become embryos.

My rainbow baby is just one embryo away and I cannot wait to have a baby that we can keep. 

{Lucia} Happy Birthday Baby 

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Lucia it has been seven years since you graced this earth. My heart is happy because you have spent those seven years in heaven. My son you were to beautiful for earth, so the angel closed the book of life and sent you to heaven. You got your wings before you got a chance to touch the soil. Your life though short fucking mattered. You existed Lucia and you will continue to exist until the last breath I take. 

Child loss, I never signed up for it however God chose me. He chose me to walk this earth with a piece of my soul in heaven. It takes a strong woman to love a child in heaven. My heart is forever broken, it broke the day I said goodbye to my son. I trust that Lucia is in good hands and that he is entertaining Baby E, that one day we will meet again. 

His birthday rolls in quietly. There is no fan fair, party or cake. It simply comes and goes. I celebrate my son by blowing out a candle on a cupcake while saying a silent prayer for Lucia’s safe keeping. I pause and wonder what he would look like at 7. Would he be a curly top freckled blue eyed child like me or would he have the Jewish features of his father. I try to imagine what his voice and laughter would sound like. Would he be a wild child or a wall flower? In that moment I find comfort in the land of wonder and what if. 

This year Lucia would be old enough to attend Y Camp Pepin. He and I would be making the drive down to Stockholm WI and I would drop him off for a week of fun. I loved camp as a child and I have no doubt Lucia would have too. Maybe he would take to sailing and windsurfing like his mama or spend time in the arts and craft room. Maybe he would have a camp crush and pick her flowers or just maybe he’d miss me so much he’d beg me to come get him. This I’ll never know for the opportunity to send him was taken too soon. 

Lucia is missing out on weekends with his grandparents. He never got the chance to sleep in a log cabin. To run through the field catching frogs, toads, snakes, and salamanders like his mama did. My father should be teaching Lucia how to fish and after they’re done going to the Cenex in Elmwood for ice cream. Lucia should be playing in my mom’s garden and watching her tend to the camp stove and asking her “when is dinner done!?” Those things never came to fruition because God had other plans. My parents got cheated out of their first grandchild. A child that they deeply wanted. 

Seven years without Lucia honestly feels like a lifetime. Time, it carries on. Some days it moves rapidly, others it creeps along, the months tick by and my son turns another year older in heaven. I rest easy knowing that he is not alone, that somehow he found Cora, then Charlie, and his sibling Baby E. I am certain that he is being an excellent big brother and letting Baby E chew on his red legos. That together they will have a grand birthday party in Heaven and he will look down and see his mama blowing out his candle. 

Lucia is always with me. He is and will always be my son, my baby he will always be. Happy Birthay my sweet precious Angel. Mama loves you from earth to heaven. 

{Go Red} My Father will always be why 

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In February we focus on women’s hearts. But this month isn’t just for me, it’s for my Daddy too. 

15 years ago I was in college in Ladysmith WI, I called home to talk to my Dad. My sister answered, she said “he’s sleeping.” I pleaded with her to wake him up so I could talk to him. She was persistent and uttered “Dad isn’t here, he’s in the hospital.” My heart sank and I hung up.

When I finally go through to my mom she told me it didn’t look good. His heart was sick. I took to my knees and prayed with every fiber I had. I asked God to spare my father’s life. At 19 I couldn’t imagine a world without my father. I needed him at my side to tell me that this to shall pass. My rock was fading and all we could do was fucking pray and wait.

When my dad arrived at Mayo he had a survival score of “zero.” His heart was beating so fast it just fluttered in his chest. Congestive Heart Failure and aortic fibrillation was to blame. The doctors prepared my Mama for the worst. She lied like all mothers do and told us he was going to be alright. I was a mess and couldn’t think straight in class. My body was in Wisconsin but my heart was in Minnesota. 

Two weeks later that zero walked out of the front doors of Saint Mary’s and he never looked back. Today February marks his 15th survuvior anniversary. With every beat of his heart he steals time from the sandman and keeps death at bay. We know each day isn’t spoken for and that only the good lord knows if we will see the next sunrise. He lives with faith in his heart and appreciates every second of his borrowed time. 

Borrowed years are a gift. My father has lived to see his daughter graduate from college, he was the proudest father in the arena. He walked his daughters down the isle and held me as I cried into his should on the day I found out my son had died. He’s picked up the pieces after our divorces and was the glue that our hearts needed. He stood by my side as I fought for my life and put his arm around me when we found out that I inherited his heart. I’ve watched him hold his second and third born grandchild for the very first time while morning his first. He is the ultimate road trip companion and dinner buddy. As long as a ride is involved he’s game. 

Borrowed time is all but rosy. My father looked on as doctors fought to save my life. Blood clots are no joke and strokes they are even worse. He taught me how to inject myself with blood thinners, “make sure you clean the area real good” he said. Little by Little I got stronger and I never looked back. My dad’s face lit up when he saw me on a billboard and in a TV commercial promoting heart health. He tearfully watched the video of my speech in DC, his surviving heart was so very proud. Those teary eyes looked on as I strutted down the runway and shared my story at the fashion show. All because his heart, it saved mine. 

My father’s heart saved mine. If it weren’t for his broken heart I never would have gotten involved with the American Heart Association.  If I hadn’t gotten involved I would never have learned that women have different symptoms than men and that cardiac events can happen at any age. In one moment I became the very surivivor I advocated for and I’ve never looked back. 

Because of my father I am alive today. Because he lived, his heart saved mine. Because of his heart and the research they are conducting my future looks fucking bright. I’ve followed in my father’s footsteps, he was 50 when his heart gave out, I am 34 and I am not afraid to tread down his path. For I know having high levels of C-reactive protein is no longer a death sentence, it allows us to go boldly into the night and wakeup to a beautiful painted sunrise. 

{Engaged Life} Boxes in a new zip code

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Life moves on. 

My zip code has moved too. I hung up my single uptown girl shoes, only to put on a comfortable pair of committed relationship shoes. It took almost 6 years but I have finally found my zen, my happy, and that happy is a townhome in the suburbs. I know, I know I said I would never go back.  But hey when the man you love lives in the burbs you go to the damn burbs. 

My things are hap hazordly stacked in the garage. Trust me, I am slowly working on unpacking my shit and making the townhouse a home. Right now our home is in disarray, but in a good disorganized way. One that lets you know that two lives have smashed into one big life. Cullen is no longer an only child he has two brothers, an orange bitchy cat named Dexter and a gray cat named Stiffy. For the most part they get along.

At night I make dinner for two instead of one. I feed three animals instead of one. Everyday I get to come home to my best friend. I get a little giddy when I hear the garage door open and Jay comes bouncing through the door. His face lights up when he sees me cooking away he tries to get in a hug, but I brush him off. You can’t break your woman’s focus while she’s cooking. Breaking focus equals burnt food and no one likes burnt food. To me the key  to a good relationship is eating dinner together every night and we do just that while watching Super Girl on Netflix. So yes I can say that we are a couple who Netflix and chill. 

We are building a life together. A life with two cats, one of which is bitchy and a muppet like dog at our side. One day we hope to be parents to a two legged child. Fertility is a mystery, you either have it or you don’t. One thing I do have is Jay and I wouldn’t want to go through this journey with anyone else. Jay knows what I’ve been through and that men have the smaller part in fertility. I’ve been poked, probed, scanned and prodded, while he just gave a sample. The odds are against us, yet we have hope that deep within the blueprints lies a room called parenthood. We know that rainbows are hard to catch, but watching him/her grow will be worth it.

In Jay I found home. He can make me laugh at the drop of a hat, then again we all know I crack my own self up. We have a running joke of hiding a light saber on eachother’s side of the bed. Most nights I make it through without cracking up until he finds it. Plus there are running stories of Dexter and Stiffy’s adventures behind Walgreens. Laughter makes a home. Jay reminds me to not be so serious and to live life to the fullest and to take chances. Life is different, different in a good way. I’ve found my human, my grove, I’ve change my zip code and I’m never looking back.

{Infertility} The Ugly Truth about Chasing Rainbows

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When  a woman has a misscarriage or a still birth people often say “oh you can try again. You will have another one, don’t worry.” They do not realize that those words or even the thought of trying again cuts through her soul. She wanted THAT baby. She did not plan for a future baby, she had planned on brining THAT baby home. 

My journey to motherhood has had more potholes than smooth pavement. I watch friends fall pregnant on a whim. I for some reason do not have access to the baby water or whatever magical dust is flying around. Five years. Five years stood between Lucia and Baby E. Both my children were not planned, yet they were desperately wanted and now the desire to mother someone is strong.

Before Baby E I had made peace with the fact that I would never carry a child. Adoption, was going to be my best option. Doctors told me that my uterus was to broken to carry a child and mostly it was a risky endeavor. Girls with a history of blood clots and stroke, well it’s not recommended that you become pregnant. I felt cheated and robbed, one decision affected my whole fertile life. All my friends who went on the NuvaRing got babies, I got a blood clot. This was the hand I was delt and with time I learned to live with it. 

That is until a blue plus sign showed up. I was scared, no not scared, I was fucking terrified. I had been pregnant before and it didn’t turn out so well. I went home with empty arms. I was cautiously  getting attached to the group of cells I was carrying, the only thing that stood between me and my child was a viability scan. Every high risk pregnant woman dreads this scan. The scan is completed at 6/7weeks gestation, if there isn’t a heart beat, game over. Jay was excited for the ultrasound, as soon as an empty sac flashed on the screen, I knew in my heart it was over. God didn’t give me a second chance to be a mom. He brought me so close to motherhood, yet pushed me one step back. This rainbow was not meant to be ours. The chase was back on.

The world of baby making is not pretty. It’s pretty much a second job. There are charts to be charted, temps to be checked, sex dates on calendars, ovulation test to pee on and then there is the two week wait. The wait to see if all of your hard work (literally) and charting paid off. Month after month went by without a blue plus sign. Something in my gut said “lady you are a little off.” 

A year went by with no luck. Down the fertility rabbit hole we went, I’ve had more blood test and scans (the ultrasound wand and I are on a first name basis) than I can count. My body and I are not on good terms right now. My egg reserve is good, yet something is a miss. Luteal phase failure, progesterone and I are not on speaking terms. She is suppose to be my girl and rise to the baby maintaining occasion. Bitch is sitting in her seat exchanging gossip and not paying attention to her job at hand. Getting her to step up is tricky, yet she is my only hope. I need her otherwise I’ll never catch our rainbow.

Talking about infertility makes me feel like I failed as a woman. I’ve got one job and that is to birth babies. I think in away women judge each other. Having fertility help is like the new c-section vs vaginal birth debate.  Yes it’s true only a small percentage of the population needs fertility assistance, yet it doesn’t make me any different than fertile myrtle from down the lane. Maybe in away it makes me more of a woman because I have to endure a shit ton of testing and scans and needles to get my prize? Probably not, but I just want to throw that out there. 

The getting pregnant process doesn’t scare me. The pregnant part is what scares me. Carrying a child scares me. Not knowing what the next scan will show is what scares me. My therapist assures me that my fears are healthy and normal. That as time goes on they will ease. But for now in this moment they are very real and it’s scary. I desperately want to be a mom, yet 9 months of pregnancy terrifies me. Jay does his best to ease my fears and calms me down. He knows what I’ve gone through, it’s a lot for one soul to carry. Jay tells me that  I am strong and that I am capable of carrying our child, we just need to catch our damn rainbow and never let go, well when they are 18 will let go. 

There is a five year gap between Lucia and Baby E. Which is not normal, it’s not normal to have a five year gap or to loose two babies in a row. Which the term loose is still strange to me, I know where they are and they are not lost. The fore mentioned is the ugly truth of fertility. Some ladies have what it takes and then there are those of us who desperately want to be fertile. 

When someone asks me “do you have children?” I should be able to say “yes, but they died,” without fear of being judged or the awkward look of pity. Just like infertile women, women of dead babies get swept under the rug. It’s like we are societies dirty little secret, like we live in a fairytale land where every woman is fertile and every baby lives. 

Truth: that land does not exist and life, it’s ugly and hard. I learned this the hard way. Yet I like many women still hold onto a glimmer of hope that my next pregnancy will be successful and that it will result in a live birth. While you are doing summer things, I will be getting poked, prodded and scanned to make sure my lady bits are in working order, because this, this is going to be the year we catch our rainbow! 

{Baby E} Empty Sac, Big Impact

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A year has almost passed since a bright blue plus sign appeared. I sat on the floor staring at it in disbelief. It was a good 30 minutes before it sunk in that the plus sign was for me and that a baby was on board. I was given a second chance at motherhood and Jay would be a first time father. 

In the six weeks that followed we started picking out names and nursery themes. Jay looked up baby gear on the Internet and spoke softly to my stomach. Jay was attached the instant I told him and for me I was slowly falling in love with a group of cells. My Dad started making the mobile just like he did for Luica, birds, I wanted birds for this baby. He obliged and went to work. My parents were excited to have a fifth grandchild to spoil and love on. Their excitement helped mine grow. With a little luck and a lot of faith everything would be all right. 

If you are familiar with child loss then you know all pregnancies that follow are considered high risk and there is a viability scan around 6/7weeks. This scan terrified me and I dreaded the day of our appointment. Perinatal doctors had failed me before, the fear and anxiety that I had was raw and real. The ultrasound would be my enemy, it could either make or break this pregnancy. An empty sac appeared on the screen. At almost 7weeks a fetal pole should have been inside beating away. 

I carried the little sac that couldn’t for 12 weeks. The Doctor and I called it, a plan was put in place and a D&C was scheduled for July 7, 2015. Jay couldn’t miss work so my Mama took his place. I had the sweetest nurses. My Nurse Ann made sure I knew what and where baby land was, she held my hand and gave me a hug as I headed off to surgery. A few days after surgery I got a call that my pregnancy contents had been cremated and sprinkled in Lake Wood Cemetery’s baby land, our baby is resting with a view of Lake Calhoun and I can walk over and visit if I chose to. Weeks later the pathology report would show that it was more than just a sac, it was a partial molar pregnancy, two sperm fertilized one egg and our baby had more chromosomes than it needed. 

Unlike Lucia, Baby E gave me a why and that was all I needed, I was able to be a peace with the leaving. Baby E has given me hope that I to will have a baby one day, it’s just rainbows are elusive and they are hard to catch. I have faith that my turn is just around the corner and that one day I will get to carry a baby to term. For Motherhood is a job that I desperately want. 

{Mother’s Day} STILL A Mother, My Babies You Will Always Be 

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I walked past the shelves of neatly organized Mother’s Day cards and past banners  reminding me that it was on May 8th. Commercials on the radio quickly tell me I need to hurry in and by my Mother a gift, it seems mothers like strands of pearls not fancy brunch dates. Or so that is what the owner of a jewelry store thinks. I change the radio every time the ads come on and I look to the ground as I bust past the cards, for Mother’s Day is not for me. 

Mother’s Day brings on a slew of emotions and serves as a reminder that my babies are not will me. Last year on Mother’s Day a bright blue plus sign told me I was pregnant. Excitement was replaced with an unsettled fear and I tried to show joy, it was hard. I had been on this road before and my heart it did not want to get attached to the life that was inside. My heart she was right, the ultrasound revealed an empty sac, two sperm fertilized one egg they said. To many chromosomes and we said goodbye to Baby E on 7/7/15. 

As a Mother I have faith that some how Baby E found his/her big brother in heaven. That Lucia and Baby E are together causing trouble and watching over me. Lucia would be six this year and Baby E would have been almost four months old. My heart aches for my children, I got cheated out of my son and who Baby E was meant to be. 

Right now I would have a first grader on my hands, I wonder what he would look like, would he have my blue eyes and curly hair or would he have the Jewish features of his father? Mostly I  wonder what his voice and laughter would sound like. If he would come running to me yelling “mommy mommy mommy” with a bug in his hands all covered in dirt. Or if he would be the unadventurous type who quietly watched the world around him. One day I will see my son, faith tells me that I will and when I do his voice will be the sweetest sound my soul has ever heard.

Baby E would have been almost 4 months. I wonder if Baby E would have been a girl or a boy. Jay and I were secretly hoping for a girl, we really wanted a daughter, we would have gladly taken a boy too. I wonder if Baby E would have slept through the night or kept us awake, what his/her gummy smile would look like, and if they would have had a lot of hair or been a baldy. If they would have been a good eater or a finicky one. I wonder if he/she would have felt heavy in my arms and the softness of their body against my chest. One day I will see Baby E and hold him or her in my arms.

My babies you will always be. There are no cards for Mothers like me. We as a society do not like to talk about Mothers who have lost children. It’s like we are a dirty little secret and we are looked upon as inadequate. We are STILL mothers. We did not chose to loose our children, God, he made that choice for us. Maybe God knows it takes one hell of a woman to be the mother of an angel. My children died, plain and simple they are gone, and that fact does not take away my Motherhood card. My heart aches and it wonders, it looks on at you and thinks “one day that will be me, one day that WILL be me.” 

Rainbows are special, they elude us, but if you are lucky and you manage to catch one hold on to it tightly. For there are many women who would gladly chase that rainbow until it lays heavy in her arms. 

{Hearts on 22} I’ve Got Weight to Lose and a World to Gain 

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What can I say, I am a Minnesota girl through and through. I have a deep deep love for all things tasty. Chocolate isn’t my cup of tea, it helps that I am allergic to it, but girl I can get down with a slice of lemon cake or an apple pie. Preferably pie, I’m not a big cake fan, but if cake is in the room chances are it will find its way into my belly. 

Bacon it doesn’t stand a chance! I am in LOVE with bacon. It was a big deal when I said to Jay “I love you more than bacon!” When I am not with bacon, I am with cheese. Wisconsin’s greatest gift to the human race was CHEESE!!! Fresh cheese is the best cheese, it’s even better when battered and fried, cheese curds are literally a girls best friend. Who needs dimonds when you have cheese curds! 

We need to get real! I mean like really real here folks, thou my love for bacon and cheese is strong, it is starting to show on my ass, my thighs, and every where else it can accumulate. I am starting to feel it in my knees and I have to squeeze myself into my pants. I like wearing pants that don’t squeeze my innards and allow me to eat food while they are buttoned and or snapped up. I also like shirts that leave a little wiggle room. My dresses are more forgiving thou they to are getting a little tight around the ass region. 

Guys and Gals, shopping isn’t AJ’s thing! Yes I am female and yes I just admitted that shopping isn’t my thing. Sorry boys I know I am a catch for that very reason, but I am already happily taken. Anyhoo back to the wardrobe, something has to give I love my current clothes and I want them to love me back. So this only means one thing, “AJ needs to make a life change.” As in clean up her eating and get her ass moving like a boss. 

I should know a thing or two about weight loss and healthy living. My first job out of college was with Jenny Craig as a Program Director, I sold the program and counseled clients along their journey. It was fun, but if you know me and you know me well I HATE prepackaged microwave meals! Like hate them, they never look like the picture on the box, they are loaded with salt, and not to mention the chemicals in the plastic tray that leak into your food during the heating processes. Yes, I know I’ve put way to much thought into that. Anyways I did not want a plan that requires me to live out of my microwave or drink shakes. I wanted something that would fit into my life and not fit my life into a diet.

Enter advice from the world’s greatest best friend Sherri, she said why not try “weight watchers!” Hmmm I instantly pictured little old ladies in swim caps doing water  aerobics while counting points. Then there is Oprah, she’s always yelling “I LOVE BREAD” and urging us to give weight watchers a try. I did some research and took Sherri’s advice, I signed myself right on up for the program. $20.00 a month isn’t so bad plus there is a handy dandy ap that synchs with my Fitbit. Bonus Jay is also going to be working the WW plan too. It’s nice to have your BFF and life partner on board, otherwise this journey would be boring.

The Weight Watchers app is pretty simple to use and was easy to setup. My goal is to lose 34 pounds by my 34th birthday. Which is 10/27/2016, I figure slow and steady will win this race. Best part is I do not have to deprive myself of anything. I still get to have my beloved bacon and cheese. Everything has a point value, foods higher in sugar/saturated fat and sodium have higher point values. Which helps steer you towards healthier choices that will eventually result in drops on the scale.

The Weight Watchers Beyond the Scale program also focuses on activity and non-scale victories. I love that my Fitbit synchs with the weight watchers app. I earn extra points to use during the week based on my activity level. AJ don’t run unless she is being chased but these shoes were made for walking and that’s just what they’ll do. Non-scale victories can be as small as turning down Deseret or as big as finally fitting in an airplane seat. You choose your own victories and celebrate all of your success that happens off the scale.

I have been working the program since April 2 and I can honestly say I don’t feel deprived or hungry. I am less bloated and have more energy. Thou I still need naps, naps are my jam man. Cullen is tired, tired because his legs are short and we have been going for longer walks. He really likes naps too! Below is my before photo and hopefully my after will look drastically different. I don’t want to be a skinny mini, I want to be a size healthy and feel comfortable in my own skin. Because Beauty knows no number. 

Before!!!!

You can follow along on my journey as I will be sharing the tips and the tricks that I learn along the way. Besides we both know I am going to also be sharing my success and the down right funny moments of this process too! It will be fun so put on your walking shoes and come along with me!