Not sure where to start...

It is not uncommon for Marcus to come home and find me welling with tears over a commercial about abused dogs, a catalog for Save the Children, a homeless person on the street or a mother who can't feed her children. I've always been this way and have always had a strong desire to help. The most recent was the Save the Children's catalog. Did you know that you can buy cows, goats and chickens for families in Africa? I start bawling at the idea of something so simple could help parents provide for their families. For the last 3 years or so I have played with the idea of starting up a soup kitchen in Stillwater. My main problem is - I have zero idea of where to start. I've always enjoyed the idea of giving money and clothes but I knew what most organizations really needed was time. So, I decided to go to part-time as manager at Northside and give up a few afternoons a week to volunteer.

I picked up 3 volunteer jobs, the Stillwater Surgery Center, a school for mentally handicapped children, and a reading buddy at Sangre Elementary to Ms. Cox's 3rd grade class.

The one that lasted the least amount of time was the school for mentally handicapped children. I did not get to work with the children as I had hoped, instead I was cutting out things for hours on end in a room by myself where the occasional teacher would pass through and not say hello. Now, don't get me wrong, I knew that volunteer work wasn't going to be easy but I did figure I'd at least be acknowledged. So, a few weeks later and a cramping hand I decided to drop that one and give Sangre an extra day.

Volunteer job #2 was the Stillwater Surgery Center, which lasted several months. Every Thursday I would show up around lunch and leave aroud 4 (unless there wasn't anything to do, in which case I'd leave early.) My job was to get patients a drink and snack after they had their procedure, bring their loved ones back into the recovery room, and clean the room after they had left. It was either very fast paced, or very slow. At first I really enjoyed it, I loved getting to know the nurses and helping people out. After a while I noticed that the nurses still weren't warming up to me, and were often a little bit rude to me. I had a desperate desire to say, "Hey, did you know that I'm not getting paid to do this? I'm here to help you for free." But, I didn't. I know this makes me sound snotty and I really wasn't doing it to get recognition or anything but I did at least want to be treated nicely. So, before long I got engaged and decided to dedicate my Thursdays to wedding planning instead of the Surgery Center.

Volunteer Job #3 - Reading and Sangre. I started reading 2 days a week (after I quit the other school) with Ms.Cox's 3rd grade class. Generally she would pair me up with a student that was a bit behind on his/her reading level. Overtime I was paired over and over again with the same girl, I'll call her A. A and I read and read and we actually started to get pretty close until summer came. Lucky for me she happened to get a teacher I knew in 4th grade and with her permission I continued reading throughout 4th grade. Today A is in 5th grade and has made leaps and bounds in her reading. I couldn't be more proud of her. It scares me to think that in just a few short months I won't be able to read with her anymore as she will be moving on to the middle school. Sniff sniff. She is the most wonderful young person I have ever had the privilege of meeting.

So, here we are 3 years later and I have picked up volunteer job #4 - I have become what can only be described as a teachers assistant to Ms. Gober's 1st grade class. On Mondays and Wednesdays at 9:30 you can find me sorting homework, cutting out construction paper, reading with students, helping students finish homework, and the scariest of all - I actually was a sub one day and don't plan on doing that one again. There is something about the smell of elementary schools that comforts me, surprising when you take into account that I HATED school from kindergarten to college, maybe its the stale macaroni and glue, maybe its the melted crayons and construction paper. 1st graders say the darndest things and being in that classroom is the biggest crack up of my day.

So, now that I have a little volunteering under my belt, maybe its time for something a little bigger. Though now that we have a baby on the way, it may have to wait. Either way, I know I still would love to have a soup kitchen, become a foster parent, build houses in Africa, and help anyone in need get their life back together. I'm so thankful to have married someone who understands the desire to help anyone and everyone at all costs. So, let the journey begin...

Oh the bun in my oven...

Warning - This post will get a little personal... Men, I don't suggest you read...

Marcus and I (well mostly me but still) had planned on being married for about a year before we started trying to get pregnant. We got married in October 2010 but come January I was ready to start discussing it. We decided on a 'pre-babymoon' to Jamaica in May where we spend our last big trip just the two of us. Most of our family and friends knew that this was some kind of a last get away but weren't actually sure when we would start trying.

Now, call me crazy but I had no idea about the emotional roller coaster that went along with trying to conceive. Several (and it felt like most) of our friends actually got pregnant the first time they tried or weren't even actively trying SURPRISE!! So, I had it in my head that this would be a piece of cake. Marcus on the other hand, was correct in thinking otherwise. I've never had a 'normal cycle' as doctors would say, I can go anywhere from 1.5 months to 2 years between cycles.

Okay, so we got back from Jamaica and 2-3 weeks later I took a home test, negative. A few days later I took another one, negative. I was disappointed but knew it was only the first try and was excited to get to try again. Being female, I knew that some women do not ovulate in the middle of their cycle so I bought ovulation tests to see when I ovulated. Two months went by and I still hadn't ovulated. At this point we are in July and I was getting very frustrated which isn't a good thing to be only 3 months in TTC (trying to conceive) Worried that I didn't work right I called my doctor and explained the situation, he prescribed Clomid. A pill you take on days 5-9 of your cycle and around day 12-14 you go in for an ultrasound to check out how your ovaries/eggs look. If things look good, you get an HCG shot (to help the egg drop) and go home bada-bing-bada-boom TADA!! I should mention however, that there is a 10% chance of twins. Twins would be rough on my little body but who am I kidding? I want kids and this seemed like the easiest fix. I set a day on the calendar to take a home pregnancy test and the night before I woke up with the most awful cramps I had ever experienced. At 3am I found myself in the fetal position in a hot bath tub. Finally morning came and I took a test, a very very faint but visible 2nd line. It appeared that we were pregnant. Because the line was so faint, we decided to wait few days and test again before we called anyone or made any appointments. It was only a few hours after we took the test did I realize something was wrong, I can't explain it, it just didn't feel right. By the next morning it was clear that I was no longer pregnant. I called my doctor confused as to weather we had a false positive or did I (as I was almost positive) have a miscarriage? A few days later I went in for blood work that confirmed what I thought. I know that having a miscarriage is a very emotional experience but I was so thankful that 1. We had only known a few hours and didn't have a chance to get attached let alone wrap our heads around the fact we were pregnant, and 2. though we miscarried, it was proof that our problem was fixed! I worked!

The most frustrating thing about that whole ordeal was that because it all happened so early and so fast, no one believed me (family) that I was having a miscarriage until I had blood work to prove it. I know my body and what isn't normal and those extreme cramps were not normal.

Anyway, Doc wanted us to wait a full cycle to try the Clomid again. Needless to say, the second time is the charm! At 4.5 weeks I went in for blood work that came out great, and at 8 weeks we had our first ultrasound where we saw the heartbeat (and yes there is only one bun in there) and today we went in (two days early) for our 12 week appointment and got to hear the the heartbeat. We are due June 17th and couldn't be more excited and terrified! Yay!