Ever since I was a child, I’ve wanted to be a writer. I was eight years old when I recorded my first thoughts:
My spelling and ability to focus my writing has improved since then. My love for tacos has remained.
From those diaries came short stories, and then longer stories, and then I became a teenager and writing stories was no longer cool. I don’t even know what was cool back in 1998. Doc Martins? Whipping out my compact mirror from my back pocket and obsessively checking my face every five minutes like all the other girls were doing? Whatever it was, I tried to do it and the extent of my writing became nothing more than the notes back and forth with my friends.
I meet a guy.
My husband Chris and I met while working at Panera. I don’t know, I think he offered to pour the hot soups into the warmer or something. I was 16 and he was 19 and we were just friends until he got a girlfriend. I realized it was an inopportune time, but he really needed to be with me instead. After four years together, we got married in 2008 (ten years after Doc Martins went out of style) and I was still in nursing school, working toward my RN degree.
We moved around a couple times in the Twin Cities, and bought an Australian Cattle Dog whom we named Toby. I was working as a nurse in home care and Chris was in finance. We knew we wanted to have a baby, so when the time was right, we gave each other that knowing smile, poured some wine and I got pregnant.
Just kidding. It didn’t quite work out that way.
I realize I’m infertile.
I started my blog, Who Shot Down My Stork? in 2012, three years into trying to get pregnant on our own. Initially, I wanted that blog to be a place for friends and family to read about our struggles to have a baby. Somewhere along the way, I accidentally became an infertility blogger and strangers wanted to read about my failing reproductive system. And they actually thought it was entertaining. Who knew?
After multiple IUIs, IVFs, two miscarriages, and a donor cycle that involved a trip across country, I left my job as an RN Case Manager, in order to put my full time and attention into one last cycle. We chose a different egg donor, drained our savings and took one final trip back to Texas. In November 2015, six years after initially trying for a baby, we welcomed our daughter Olivia into the world. She’s pretty much perfect. Probably why I write about her 95% of the time.
I am a mama. And it feels weird to say that. I became a stay-at-home mom, but along the way, picked up some freelance work and now am a regular contributor for three different companies, including the parenting website mom.me. You can view my most recent articles here. Apparently, you can make a living from writing after all.
When Olivia was around a year old, I contemplated doing a complete overhaul of my website. My identity was in infertility blogging, but I realized I had outgrown it. I was a mom, albeit a very infertile one. Most of my readers were moms. My blog, my home for the last four years, needed a change, even though I was nervous to do it.
So I made some changes.
Welcome to my space. If you came over from Who Shot Down My Stork?, it’s good to see you again. If you are new here, Hi! <waves>
This site is still in the works of being beautified. If you experience technical issues, please be patient as I work out the kinks. This is the most technology I’ve ever dealt with in my life.
When I’m not writing for this blog or frantically making deadlines for my other freelance work, I am being a mom. Usually doing Mom things like wearing leggings, drinking coffee from a variety of mugs, and trying to sign my daughter up for lots of free activities since trying to finance a sibling for her doesn’t come cheap when you’re still infertile. We introduced Olivia to our favorite world of hiking state parks, and one of these days I will get back to those sad abandoned scrapbooks I ditched when I had a baby. Otherwise, you will usually find me taking pictures, reading a book, convincing my husband to bake ridiculously complicated things for me, and eating food dipped in Chick-fil-A sauce.
This isn’t a mommy blog. Well I guess it is in some ways because I’m a mom and I’m a blogger. How about I call this a space to write about motherhood, infertility, and life in general? A place to be real, to provide support to moms in all walks of life, and at times, to awkwardly overshare. Sort of a diary, except that it’s been passed around to my entire graduating class and probably some ex-boyfriends as well.
I hope you enjoy. Sorry about the swearing.
photography by erinandi photo