Up, up and…outta here

At bed time, with Sam (3, going on 14)

Me: What was your favorite part of the day?

Sam: Those things, up there, that go up up up. (Randomly pointing to the banners I made him for his room when he was a baby).

Me: The banners? Do you like those? I made those for you when you were little! (Getting all sentimental. He finally notices them! How sweet!)

Sam: Yeah. And I want to give them to S’s mommy to give to baby Christina, so she can put them in Christina’s room.

Me: Wait, so you don’t like them and you want to get rid of them?

Sam: Yeah, those are for babies and I’m not a baby anymore.


Oh. Riiiight.

Tell it like it is, brother.

I guess I should have realized that I was raising up a man.

A completely frivolous post about hair

After a wonderful vacation to a hot and humid tropical island, after a shorter haircut than I’ve had in a while (about shoulder length) I am once again reminded of the utter pointlessness of doing anything to try to control my hair. I literally almost had dreads after 2 days in the ocean. Which brings me to my next point: I need to get dreads.

Just kidding, there is nothing worse than a white girl with dreads.

I need to somehow harness the inner curly turmoil of my hair and just own it. Apparently its not actually ‘curly’ but more, wavy or even better s’wavy. I usually dabble in the crunchy mousse, but there’s no way I can wear that two days in a row. And frankly, it just always looks wet. I haven’t bought any in years. I want to keep the fluff!

I did no ‘poo for a year and it just killed the inner wavy. I’ve been reading more recently about the modified no ‘poo of the curly girl method and I’m going to make a conscious effort to try that out.

I’ve tried to make my hair something its not for my whole life. It seems right about time (hot muggy weather coming my way!) to just admit that I need a little product and to figure it out.

My top goals are to:

1. Figure out how to not make my hair look so, so so, frizzy (some frizz is inevitable, and maybe endearing?), and

2. Figure out how to wear wavy/curly hair multiple days in a row. Because I’m really lazy and do not shower everyday.

Anyone out there figure out some routine that works?

He is exactly the same.

Everything is exactly the same as it was yesterday. Nothing has changed.

Except everything.

Yesterday there was incredible hope. I was blessed beyond measure. Except, it turned out I wasn’t. Not in that way, at least, the way I was dreaming about.

Today things are exactly the same. And I am blessed beyond measure. God is exactly who He was yesterday. He loves me beyond measure. Still. He never stopped.


It is strange, to walk back on this path again, where people don’t get pregnant. Its easy to fall back into this belief that it just doesn’t happen to people like us. Because the months go by, and probabilities seem nothing but impossible.

But I have lived it before. I had magical moment, a hinge in my life where my whole world changed. Things that had been impossible, well, one day, they happened! God was the same before, after, and all the while. I had faith before, but I also have experience now. I remember what it was like to long for something and then suddenly have your wildest dreams come true on a Sunday afternoon.

It does happen to people like us.

I don’t just believe it, or hear it from someone’s friend who it happened to, but I know to be true because I lived it.

In spite of days like today.


It the sweetest dream, isn’t it? To not be broken? To make love with your husband and, things just…work? God be present and nine months later, meet the beloved fruit of your love? Its the sweetest dream, the most amazing fairy tale.

What a love story.

And He can do these things! Just not this time.

And I know that just as easily as it could have happened this month, just as easily as it can happen next month. Despite not wanting to get sucked in or “think about it”. There are those two days of the month (if you’re lucky) where you can peak over the fence and allow yourself to dream for minute. I haven’t thought about it in months, but of course, God, it would be this month. I had all the faulty logic to deduce why pregnancy would happen this time as opposed to all the others. My breasts were sore all month and I had a dream on p+13 that God told me I was with child! I don’t dream dreams like that. My sub-fertile friend who gave birth to her first right as I found out I was pregnant with my first, was now giving birth to her second. Surely that meant something, our stories were connected, right? And I did just finish the 56 day novena last month. Of course God heard those prayers and of course, he would answer them!

Of course God heard those prayers. And of course He will answer them. He is the same as he was yesterday. Forever and ever.

So I know how quickly things can change. So suddenly it can happen, it does happen. It did happen. Probabilities fly out the window when you’re staring at a positive pregnancy test, evidence of your child.

The sweetest dream.

But being back here, I know simultaneously how unworthy I am of such a dream. There is nothing I could ever do to deserve such a gift. Again, let alone the first time.

The gift of a child to be responsible for. It feels selfish to even pray for it. I know this to be true.

My daily experience has shown me how humbling, how undeserving, and how much I rely on God everyday to make me into just an acceptable mother. How dare I pray for more?

But God is the same as he was yesterday. And he can do miracles. He did it before. He calls us in spite of our faults, so why not me?

Everything can change in an instant.

And yet, He will be exactly the same. He is our constant.

A fall garden attempt and a year!

I had such high hopes for our garden this year! The results were less than spectacular. It turns out the squirrels really are rabid here and they did not desire to respect our “let’s share the tomatoes because there is enough for everyone, mmk?” I don’t think I’ve seen a red tomato in weeks, despite having 5 tomato plants out there! They aren’t touching the jalapenos though, I can’t imagine why?

Our squash came and went, again, blighted by that same powdery mildew we had in California. I got a few cans of pickles and some zucchini before all the plants died off. I harvested exactly 3 butternut, 1 acorn, 1 spaghetti squash, and a handful of smaller striped squash. I’m pretty sure there is no way anyone actually has a completely “natural” garden.  The more research I do on this seems to conclude that as well, there are just different additives people use of safer origins. So next year I’m looking at getting some sort of cage/covering in addition to more regularly using a fungicide of some sort.

2014-08-25 10.05.08Our watermelon did way better than last year, but unfortunately, that doesn’t mean that we actually ever ate any. I had about 5 ping pong to tennis ball sized melons out there that would just never grow. I had one honeydew that got big enough, but I think I left it on the vine too long (intentionally, to let it ripen) and eventually, something came along and ate half of it too.

2014-08-25 10.05.19

We had several trips this summer as well, which always makes maintenance difficulty! On one 10-day trip out west I hired the neighborhood boy to water because he had always taken an interest in my garden. About 5 days in I get a text from his mom saying that the squirrels ate all the corn. I laughed a little out loud when I read it. I was thinking that maybe they mistakenly thought that the 4 ears we harvested the day before we left were gone missing from the squirrels. But no, when they said the squirrels got the corn, they meant, the squirrels completely annihilated the corn.

2014-08-25 10.03.59Honestly, if my neighbors hadn’t physically watched the squirrels terrorize the corn with their own eyes, I would have been convinced it was due to deer.  The destruction was just so complete.

So, this blog is becoming more of a record of my utter gardening failures.  But, I’m still having fun (kind of) so I’m sticking with it. I did have no hand in growing some wild beans on the fence that resulted in bean pods. So there’s that!

I did recently pull out all the blighted plants/remains of plants (ahem) and put in some fall crops.  Broccoli, cauliflower, spinach, romaine, and I even planted some more squash seeds, though I imagine those won’t ripen before the frost because those last ones were planted so late. I will be around more in the fall and its not so unbearably hot, so maybe I’ll be more involved in the maintenance of a garden. Maybe fall gardening is where I was meant to thrive, right?! One can hope :) Pictures of those to come.

Also, I realized that two weeks ago marks a year that we’ve lived here on the East Coast. Its flown by and a lot has happened! Who knew a year ago we’d have convinced someone in our family to move out here, let alone to our neighborhood! I couldn’t be happier than the place we chose to live and I feel so guided by the holy spirit that we ended up here at all. Having a community has made some of the trials of the last year a lot more bearable and its been profoundly meaningful to be able to support others as well. Anyway, more on that later.

Thankful – 6/11/2014

Our AC Unit – On the lighter side of the list, because its only June and I don’t know what people did before air conditioning!

Forgiving myself Sometimes we think we have things all figured out.  And then life continues to happen.  And we get to revisit previous thoughts and forgive ourselves for our limited perspective and certainty back then. I will forever be working on this, but I’m thankful for the realization it needs to happen.

A place to be vulnerable – As easy as this move has been, its hit me more recently that I’ve yet to find when and where I can really be vulnerable. I find that I feel so much shame for my tears lately. Especially as a mom, I shouldn’t be crying. Like, ever. I don’t know whether its a “proper East Coast thing” or the fact that I feel so uncomfortable after I “try to go deeper” in a friendship and feel hung out to dry when I’ve shared too much.  Or the fact that I don’t want to admit that I’m struggling with something. Its always been easy for me to acknowledge I am a vulnerable person, but lately I’ve felt a lot more shame in sharing that. I thought it was due to wanting to “ponder things in my heart” more, like Mary, but I wonder if its not just pride in wanting to look like I have it all together. The internet has slowly become a place I don’t even want to share thoughts like these, what with its glossy pictures of beautiful lives and promises of perfection, so I’ve missed sharing on here as well. Anyway, all that to say, I found a place this morning, and it was so appreciated. I am thankful to hearing ears and open hearts.


A quick search on vulnerability after this morning’s discussion led me to these talks, which were nice to serve as reminders for me to have courage to share. You’ve probably seen them since they already went viral a while back, but I’m thankful for finding them anyway today.

Ted talk on vulnerability.

Ted talk on listening to shame

Thankful – 5/29/2014

For my in-laws. They love my husband and my son so much, it blankets us when we visit them. I am so thankful for their part in our lives and how they smother us with love whenever we see them. Our roots have grown firmly in the foundation they started.

For old friends. Old is always relative term with me. I think it describes how well our souls see each other rather than a length of time, but I love picking up with friends I haven’t seen in a while as if it was just yesterday that we talked. And they truly get you. This happened on our trip and I am so thankful to have these people in my life.

For friends I’ve only met a few times. But have changed my life. Because I simply cannot properly express the feeling that comes with walking into a church with a person you’ve only just met, but “known” for years, and have them point to a specific place and say “This is where I would come to pray for you and for your son, before he was even born.” 


“I am with you, watching over you constantly. I am Immanuel (God with you); My Presence enfolds you in radiant Love. Nothing, including the brightest blessings and the darkest trials, can separate you from Me. Some of My children find Me more readily during dark times, when difficulties force them to depend on Me. Others feel closer to Me when their lives are filled with good things. They respond with thanksgiving and praise, thus opening wide the door to My Presence.

I know precisely what you need to draw nearer to Me. Go through each day looking for what I have prepared for you. Accept every event as My hand-tailored provision for your needs. When you view your life this way, the most reasonable response is to be thankful. Do not reject any of My gifts; find Me in every situation.”

– p. 156, Jesus Calling, Young.

Sub-fertility and (slowly) learning to embrace my square peg

I’ve hesitated writing this post for so long because it never seems to come out quite right.  I fumble with the words again and again and my pride doesn’t want to put it out for people to read, imperfectly, because it comes from such a tender part of my heart that I’m afraid to expose it to ridicule.  I remember reading posts similar to what I’m probably about to write when I was primarily infertile and there was probably not a post I understood less.  But YOU already have your child! Why are you still whining!

But the fact is, I’m still sub-fertile.  And I’m still learning to live with that.  

I wish I was better about writing when the days are great because then I wouldn’t look so consumed with this subject.  But I’m still not that great at writing about great days, bragging about happy events. I’ll leave that to others.

The raw truth is that around the turn of the year, the time coinciding with so much anger in my life, coincided with a year of cycles with no baby. I have so many reasons to have hope for our future, and I do, but that unfortunate anniversary played a part. I tried my best to ignore it and I really thought I was at a place where I had accepted that we had our child and that was it, whatever else come what may, but the reality of living with sub-fertility will always be with me.

Sometimes I think the infertility experience creates muscle memory that is really hard to shake. I thought that was just what was going on.  A year of cycles, yes, but that’s OK. I didn’t want to fall into a game of counting, charting, checking, stating, and drugs, because I know little ones come slow for us and I just want to enjoy what I have for once.  This beautiful post from the other day and this timely one from today speak perfectly to my overall feelings and perspective on all that I have now. 

The fact is that even while being completely grateful for what I have, the reality of being sub-fertile means my motherhood does look different from most women, especially most Catholic women. I was very unprepared for how to deal with that. Its not a given that I’ll have more children to raise. The solutions to my child’s behavior problems aren’t as simple as “Oh he’ll learn that when he has a sibling”.  I don’t have the fatigue that accompanies constant pregnancy, but I don’t need to feel guilty about having a hard time with “just one”.

As much as I wanted to ignore it, I really had to confront this constant murmuring that was going on in the background face on at the start of year and realize the my dreams that I have in my life need to be 100% my own because I can’t live a life that I think a “Catholic mother” is supposed to live.  I need to live the life that God is calling me to live right here and right now.

I’m sub-fertile and I’m not trying to fit my square ‘motherhood’ peg into a little circle anymore.  

There’s no use idealizing having a large family and what I would do if I just had more children because I would seriously be missing out on everything that God has planned for me and the son he has already graciously entrusted me. And the truth is all mothers have to figure this out for themselves.  Although so often we just want to fit in, following someone else’s idea of what a Catholic mom should look like, or what any mom should look like, doesn’t work when you’re talking about unique individuals, sub-fertile or not.


There was a moment several months ago where I was having a heart to heart with Mary and I just asked her, was it really enough, just having Jesus? Were you really totally satisfied, or did you think things like what I think now, about wanting more children?

I really felt like her answer was loud and clear, piercing my heart, “Really, Jesus was enough for me.  Jesus is enough for everyone.”

Talk about getting the smack down from your mom.  But sometimes I need tough love.


The fact was that today was a “reminder” day.  I was asked when we’re having more kids. I was let in on a friend’s imminent  pregnancy announcement and I continually learn humility from a son that “is a biter”, which, if I were the type of parent that took credit for all my child’s successes, would also mean I would have to take credit for his faults.  But, luckily for me, I’m not that type of parent. Whew. 

I am trying to listen to the little voices during my prayer time that point me towards things that I am called to do.  One of the things that has helped me combat my anger and frustration over what I can’t control is allowing myself to dream about what I can work towards.  And then set goals to make those things happen.

I am not called to have a large family right now. Maybe not ever, but certainly not now.

So what I am called to do?  Well, this is me, trying to find that square place to rest my square peg.  My little, perfectly square shaped Alison motherhood peg.

Why infertile women can’t get over themselves….still.

Its been a busy last month.  I’ve had hardly 3 days in a row in our home over the last month where we have been home or without visitors.  I’ve been more than happy to accommodate guests and to take trips ourselves, but the reality is that in our cozy bungalow that means that any alone/computer/writing time has been non-existent.  So while I haven’t been posting anything during this past link-up to during Infertility Awareness Week, I have been trying to follow along in my thoughts and prayers. 

You just don’t forget about weeks like this. Even with a kid who just turned two.

My most viewed post, by far, has been when I wrote on Why infertile women can’t get over themselves.


It has also been the post that I’ve had to delete the most comments on over the past few years.  I’ve gotten such vicious, hateful comments on this piece that I had to break my vow to publish whatever comments people decided to take the time to share with me.

I’m not sure why I share that piece of information, other than it points to the fact that, no matter how much we tire of this subject or just wish it and all the horrible feelings associated with it would just go away, reflections and thoughts on it must still be shared.

Many people clearly still think that sharing about why you feel such a grief over something is a narcissistic and inappropriate.  Or that trying to unpack the complicated emotions surrounding a topic such as the inability to conceive and bare a child makes you selfish or just focusing on the negative. 

I just don’t understand that. Talking and writing about things are how we heal and move forward.

If we can’t talk about something like this and ever be allowed to process our grief, in a healthy manner, we are surely destined for a life of bitterness.

So I’m glad there’s been a week of articles and thoughts on infertility, especially from the Catholic perspective since there are layers of grief and complication present that may not be present otherwise.  And I’m even more thankful for the women who have helped open up this conversation on their own blogs, even though they haven’t experienced it themselves. 

For more information, please go read the links here.

St. Gianna, pray for us!

Writing: A necessity for joy

I wrote a few weeks back about my resolution to seek and fight for joy in my life.

I’m generally consider myself an optimistic person, but I can really be plagued with moments of extreme doubt.  Paralyzed almost.  And if I’m not careful, these moments can stretch longer, and have a much greater effect on everything around me. 

At the start of this year, I really resolved to seek joy, but it turns out resolving to do something doesn’t mean anything if you don’t have the tools to help you get there.  For me, I’d forgotten how much writing it out really helps me process and let go of things.  It helps me give it a place. Put a name to whatever is frustrating me and then move on and do something from there.  I had a couple good friends listen as I rambled, because I just kept failing to make the time to put it down in writing, so that ultimately helped me some.  But really, writing would have been so much quicker.  Not publicly, mind you.  But at least in my personal journal.  Its been collecting dust since October. I don’t know why I always forget this. 

I went to a little round-robin clinic about different health matters lately, and one of the topics was “journaling”. 

I almost didn’t want to go to it.  Actually, I didn’t want to go to it, but it was the last one left.  So I went.  And it turns out it was just what I needed to hear. 

“Journaling shouldn’t be a burden to you, just another thing that you have to do.  It should be something that helps you be.”

That quote was like a key unlocking a deep issue I’ve had with writing.  Journaling looks so different for everyone.  I know others do this, but I find the very idea of making myself write in a journal every day to be suffocating.  Mostly because I hate anyone telling me what to do, including myself, apparently.  But II admit more importantly because I have a fear of failure and journaling is a way to blatantly record all of those messy failures.  I find old journals to be a liability.  They are evidence of an imperfect past, of my human nature and of a perspective continuously evolving that is never complete. A snippet in time that maybe, shouldn’t have been recorded because that wasn’t the end goal. That was just a post-marker. A point I needed to stop and suck air because I was so winded. And that can be hard to look back on and read. 

Sometimes I just get overwhelmed with sadness at the person I was. Which is ironic because some of my writings on subfertility are some of my most treasured possessions.

But its my nature to just get stuck right there.  And not move any further. To dwell on the negative.

And here’s the incredible irony.

By dwelling on the fact that “I’m not there yet”, in letting that negative self-talk stop me from writing down my thoughts, I fail to allow myself to process what I’m going through, therefore stunting any possibility for growth in the future. Because writing it how I process it. I just get stuck in a cycle of not moving anywhere.  This is somewhat what I was trying to touch on when I wrote this

I’m going to try to focus more on the journey, rather than just wanting immediate results. Maybe I’m finally learning that “I’m not there yet” is a straw-man argument because “there” doesn’t really exist.

Anyway, the base of it is that if writing helps you know yourself, you should do it, simply because then it allows you to be yourself.  And we need more people who are passionately themselves so they can make changes in this world.

For me, writing is a necessary step towards joy, and something that I’ve been missing. 


I just want to clarify, since this is a public blog, that I don’t necessarily mean writing for all the world to see, but writing for myself to process complicated thoughts and emotions. I haven’t even been doing that. I strive to strike the right balance between sharing privately and publicly, because unfortunately, sometimes I think more damage than good can be done when we share immature thoughts on a public forum.