More than a Number

Fat. 

I hate that word with a passion. Maybe it's because I'm insecure about my own weight; maybe it's because I have heard it spit out in hate to describe others... I'm not really sure why I hate that word so much. I just know that I hate it.
In first grade, a boy in my class told me I was fat. It was the first time I had ever heard that word used to describe how I looked, and it hurt. I found myself looking around and comparing myself to the other people in my class. I wasn't a small kid, but at that point in time I certainly wasn't fat either. However, I found myself feeling fat and feeling bad about myself.
A few years after first being called fat, I found out that my best friend's grandmother referred to me as her chunky friend. I hadn't considered myself to be much larger than my friend, so this really stung. I started to see myself as even larger than I actually was. I became conscious of everyone else when I walked into a room and found myself looking around, comparing my weight to everyone else's.
Twenty-some years later, those feelings still linger. I often feel bad about myself, beating myself up for not being as thin as I would like.
I'm not telling you all this because I'm trying to throw myself a pity party. I'm telling you this because it has taken me over twenty years to truly realize something: I am so much more than a number on a scale or a size sewn into the back of my jeans.
I would be lying if I told you that I'm finally happy with myself just the way I am. I know that I need to lose weight. The difference between the old attitude I had about my weight and my new attitude, though, is that I am now wanting to become healthier. It's not about reaching a smaller number on the scale... it's about making better choices for myself.
I have recently really started trying to watch what I'm putting in my mouth. I've been trying to make healthier choices instead of reaching for chips and candy. I've been trying to exercise more... I take the stairs at work (all five floors, often feeling like I'm going to collapse before I get to the top) and I try to get down to our workout room at home at least a few times every week. I'm taking baby steps, but I'm already feeling healthier. I have even lost eight pounds, and I have to tell you... that feels pretty good.
So, why have I shared all of this with you? I guess the first reason is to remind people that words hurt and can have a lasting effect on a person. Watch the stuff that comes out of your mouth because you never know how much it crushes another person.
Second reason... I have quite a few friends who I know are also struggling with weight issues. They are all so much more than numbers, too. Please, don't ever let anyone reduce you to a number on a scale, because that's all it is... a stupid number.
I'm making a choice to be more than a number and to be a healthier version of the person I already am. Change has to start from the inside, with your attitude. If you can change that, the rest will follow. I just wish it hadn't taken me so long to figure that out...

Love Sick

As my husband walked through our front doorway tonight with his arms full of flu-fighting goodies, I couldn't help but think "that's why I love him." After working all day, I know he was exhausted and ready to just be home and do nothing. But, he took the time to take care of his sick little wifey, and I appreciate him so much for that!

I love my husband for so many more reasons than just bringing me tummy-calming packages of saltines, though. He is an amazing husband and an all-around awesome person, and sometimes I look at him and wonder how I got so lucky. 

Thanks to my hubby for loving me even when I'm sick, grouchy and whiny! 

Back to the Beginning

This coming Sunday, Ryan and I will celebrate our five-year wedding anniversary. As hard as it is for me to believe that we have already been married for almost five years, it's even harder for me to believe that it has been almost seven years since he asked me out on our first date. 

In August 2005, we met in Concepts of Wellness class at Union College. We both sat in the back of the classroom and bonded over making smart-alec comments about how much the class sucked. We were both in a relationship with other people at the time, and I actually thought he was interested in my cousin because he was always talking to her. 

Eventually, we both found ourselves single and started talking about the possibility of hanging out. He finally made the big moved and asked me to a 1920's banquet that the school was hosting. The only problem was that he asked me out on the day of the banquet... in an email. Luckily for him, though, I kind of liked him, so I called him and told him that I'd love to go (my mom asked me what I was doing, since "what kind of guy asks you to the banquet on the day of it and in an email?"). 

Going to that banquet with Ryan was one of the best decisions I have ever made in my life. The banquet was boring and pretty lame, but the company was great. I just knew that there was something special about him. Never before had I felt so comfortable opening up to someone the way that I was able to open up to him. We just really hit it off. 

The next few days after the banquet, we hung out a lot and talked about what we each wanted out of a relationship and where we saw this going. November 8, 2005, we officially became a couple... and the rest is history! 

Ryan and I on Our First Date

Attack of the Realtor

I posted this story a while ago on a blog that I had started to share funny stuff that happens with Ryan and I. However, I haven't been back to that blog since posting this story, and I'm not sure that I'll keep that blog going.
I thought this story was too funny to just let it die when I delete the other blog, so it's time to share it on here! I apologize if you have already read this. If you haven't read this before, though, please enjoy!

Too many hours spent watching HGTV and too many nights being woken up by our upstairs neighbors' enthusiastic games of adult jumping on the bed drove my hubby and I to do some house hunting of our own. We weren't stupid enough to believe we could actually afford to buy one, but figured it couldn't hurt to look and dream. 
Watching all of the house hunting shows made us realize that we couldn't just show up to random open houses as ourselves. No, we had to reinvent ourselves into more successful, home buying-type people. We were no longer Ryan and Brittany, the pre-approved for absolutely nothing security guard and college students. Nope, we were Ryan and Brittany, paramedic and PR professional, newly approved for $250,000. 
After tromping through a series of houses that we informed the realtors were "not quite what we're looking for," we decided we needed to look at some brand spankin' new construction. The "it's all included" Celebrity Homes commercials must have been particularly catchy that week because that's where we headed. 
Upon pulling up to the Celebrity model home, we were greeted by a sweaty little man who was busy wooing another couple. Not one to lose a sale, he excused himself from the couple and rushed over to us in his pit-stained shirt and food-stained tie. 
Sweaty man spent five minutes offending my nose with his BO and my ears with his idiotic gibberish. It was clear that he had no intention of listening to what we were potentially looking for in a home... he was set on selling this one. He then sent Ryan and I off to explore the quaint model villa on our own, daring us to find anything we didn't like about it and promising to give us more info before we left. 
A broken door knob, peeling linoleum and a hole in the wall convinced us that this Celebrity villa was not for us. We agreed to skip stopping back by sweaty man's office and hoped he'd be too busy talking to the other couple to notice us leaving. We made our way to the front of the house, slowly opened the door, made sure the coast was clear and ran like heck to our car. 
As I opened my car door, I realized we had been spotted. I saw sweaty man opening the front door and heard him yell, "Wait! You forgot your information packet!"
Realizing he was losing a sale, sweaty man started to run down the driveway towards our car, frantically waving the info packet in the air and yelling for us to wait. That's when I realized he wasn't going to give up. Panic set in. Who knew how far this crazy, smelly little man would go to sell this cruddy house? 
"GO, GO, GO!!!" I screamed at Ryan. 
Ryan hit the gas just in time! I turned and looked through the rear window just in time to see sweaty man reach the end of the driveway. Screaming something I should probably be glad I didn't hear, he chucked the info packet into the street and threw every ounce of his sweaty hatred into flipping us off. 
Watching sweaty man's ticked off face and pudgy middle fingers fade into the distance, Ryan and I broke into hysterical laughter. 
That was the day we swore to never buy a Celebrity Homes Villa. That was also the day we vowed never to return to that neighborhood again.

Standing Up for Love

In November, Minnesotans will be asked to vote on an amendment that will be put on the 2012 Minnesota ballot as: "Shall the Minnesota Constitution be amended to provide that only a union of one man and one woman shall be valid or recognized as marriage in Minnesota?"

In November, I will be voting NO. 

In the past couple of years, many of my friends have come out and let the world know they are gay. They are all amazingly strong people, who have already had to fight through stereotypes and unnecessary hatred. It hurts me to know that most states already would not recognize a marriage between them and whoever they choose to spend their lives with. It completely breaks my heart to think that my state could permanently take that away from them. 

I truly believe that all people should be able to make a lifelong legal commitment to the person they love, regardless of their sexual preference. No one should have the right to block someone from marrying the person they're in love with simply because that person is gay. Love is love. It doesn't matter if you're straight, gay, bi or whatever... you should have the right to love who you want and to marry whoever you want. 

Please, if you live in Minnesota, take a moment to consider what voting yes would do to the gay and lesbian couples and families who have fought so hard for the few rights they have been granted in the U.S. You would be responsible for taking away their hope. You would be responsible for telling them that their love is not as important as a heterosexual couple's. Please, join me in taking a stand against this proposed amendment. Vote no. 

United We Stood

September 11, 2001 was a day that could have completely broken America. Instead, it was a day that brought Americans from all walks of life together as a united front. I watched as people stepped up to support those who lost their loved ones, as rescuers flocked in to search for people in the towers and as people came together to show the terrorists that they had not won.
I will never forget 9/11, and I will never forget about all the men and women who lost their lives that day. The first responders who rushed into the towers to save the people they could were true American heroes, and their legacy will live on in the hearts of Americans forever.

Grandparents Day

It's hard to find the words to fully express just how much my grandparents mean to me. For as long as I can remember, they have played an important role in my life, teaching me, supporting me and loving me unconditionally. They have seen me through the best and the worst times in my life, and I am so grateful for each and every one of them and love them more than words can say.
In 2007, I gained even more grandparents when I married my hubby. These grandparents have welcomed me into their families and have made me feel incredibly loved and accepted. I love all of them, too, and am so thankful to have them all in my life!
I thank God every day for these amazing people, and on this Grandparents Day I hope they all know how very loved and appreciated they all are!

Grandma Welch

Grandpa Welch

Gone, but certainly not forgotten. I miss my Great Grandma Kermmoade every day!

Grandma Gibbs, Grandma Welch, Grandma Seek and Grandma Kermmoade

Grandma Kermmoade

Grandma and Grandpa Gibbs... We still miss Grandpa Gibbs every day... He was an amazing person!

Grandma Jane

Grandpa Kermmoade

Grandpa and Grandma Stevens

Good Grief!

The dreaded unfriending came without any warning. Our friendship had been on the rocks for a while, with her pulling away from me and shutting me out of her life. But, I had held on to the hope that things would change. I had held on to believing that she would figure life out and want things between us to go back to how they used to be. This weekend, she made it abundantly clear that all the things I had hoped for will never happen. This weekend, she hit one button and ended over 17 years of friendship.
I know how you grieve the death of a friend, but how do you grieve the loss of a friend who is still living, breathing and going on with life? 

For two days now, I have tortured my husband by trying to analyze exactly what happened that led this friend to delete me from her life. I have spent more time than I should crying, wondering why this person doesn't want to be my friend anymore and feeling like she truly hates me. I have picked myself apart, asking what I did wrong that caused this friendship to end. 

All of my analyzing, crying and self-pity has led me to one conclusion: I didn't do anything wrong. My now ex-friend and I simply grew apart. We grew and changed into different people, and the lives we both lead now simply aren't compatible anymore. 

I truly believe that some people are put in your life at certain times to help you through specific things. While I thought, this particular friend was going to be a forever friend, I think she really was probably more of the type of person who was put in my life for a certain period of time for a specific reason. She gave me someone to relate to as I went through some of the hardest parts of my life, and she was a great support at one point. I think I acted in the same way for her. Now, it's time for both of us to head our separate ways and focus on other people who need us. 

While the loss of this friendship still stings and probably will continue to hurt for a while, I know that it's time to move on. I am SO blessed to have other friends who I know will be with me forever. It's time to stop focusing on this friendship that is over and to start focusing more on these forever friendships that I value so much!

Nifty 90's

A couple weeks ago, my friend Shannon sent me a link to a whole page on fun stuff from the 1990's. I had so much fun browsing through that list that I decided to make my own. Here are my favorite things from the 90's:

NSYNC was, by far, my favorite boy band in the 90's. Many sleepovers were spent discussing which of these boys we thought was the hottest, which usually ended up with us deciding that it was impossible to choose who was hotter between Lance and JC. 

Caboodles makeup cases were so cool! It seemed like every girl had at least one of these in the 90's. If you had enough makeup to fill more than one, you were really cool! 

When Beanie Babies first came out, I HAD to collect all of them. I remember waiting in front of stores with my mom and dad to go dig through new shipments of these things! I think I collected well over 200 of them before the trend died out. 

At one point, my backpack was covered in these things! I was obsessed with feeding and playing with my GigaPets. They were pretty awesome.

I lived for new episodes of "Full House." I think I have actually seen every single episode of this show at least 20 times. 

"Titanic" was the first PG-13 movie I was allowed to watch. I remember going to the movie theater with my mom and dad and thinking that it was probably one of the coolest movies I had ever seen. 

"Clueless" is one of those movies that I have watched over and over again. It was a favorite at many sleepovers and continues to be one of my favorite movies. 

"So tell me what ya want, what ya really really want..." My friends and I knew all the words to Wanna Be and thought the Spice Girls were pretty awesome! 

I got a Sega Genesis for Christmas when I was in 2nd grade, and I thought it was one of the coolest things I had ever been given. I remember spending hours playing Sonic the Hedgehog Pinball and Dashing Deperados. 

I watched "Tiny Toon Adventures" every Sunday morning and did an awesome impression of Elmyra! Too bad this show isn't still on...

"Pinky and the Brain" was a great show! It's too bad Brain never succeeded in taking over the world... it might be a better place if he had. 

I miss the days when having the most LipSmackers made you the coolest girl. I do not, however, miss the boys in my class stealing and eating my LipSmackers, though. That was pretty nasty!

I have so many other great memories from the 90's, too! It was a fun time, where I loved talking for hours on the phone with my friends and had no cares! Yup, those were the days!

Adventures in Gynecology: What Makes Me Unique

Warning: This post contains some very personal information about me. If you are at all uncomfortable with reading about my women's health issues, this would probably be a good post for you to skip. 

Lately, I feel like almost all of the women I know who are close to my age are either pregnant or have just had a baby. In the past 16 months, 18 of my friends and family members have become new moms.
This sudden rush of babies in my life has caused friends and family members to start asking over and over again, "So, when are you and Ryan going to have a baby?"
For most people who have been married almost five years and are still childless, this is a fairly normal question. For me, though, this question hurts a little bit.
April 9, 2011, I thought I was possibly pregnant. Home pregnancy tests were negative, but I had skipped my period and was starting to have signs that many of my pregnant friends had. I had steadily been gaining weight without any reasonable explanation over a few months, my hands and feet became incredibly swollen, I had a strange feeling in my abdomen, I was exhausted all the time and I often felt sick to my stomach. Overall, I just didn't feel well. I was really busy with school at this point in time, and since the pregnancy tests I took all were negative, I decided to wait things out until graduation. I told myself I would go to the doctor the week after graduation if I was still having those symptoms.
On my graduation day in May, I started bleeding. Since every pregnancy test I had taken had been negative, I just assumed that maybe I had miscalculated when things were supposed to start before and went on with my life. Then things got strange.
A month after graduation, I was still bleeding and was in constant pain. My feet were swollen to the point that most of my shoes didn't even fit, and my stomach was so bloated that I was having problems fitting into my clothes. After a lot of pleading from my family and friends, I finally made a doctor appointment.
The doctor gave me both good news and bad news. The good news was that everything I was experiencing had nothing to do with a pregnancy or miscarriage. The bad news was that she didn't have an explanation as to why all of these things were happening to my body. I should have known this doctor wasn't good when I had to plead with her to give me medication to help me stop my bleeding (I bled for over six weeks total before I was finally given medicine to help me stop it. The medicine I was given made me sick to my stomach and had side effects that were almost worse than the problems I originally went in for) and for her to send me for an ultrasound.
Ultrasound day was probably the strangest day I have ever had in my life. Ryan and I checked in at the ultrasound place in Omaha around 1 p.m. By 1:30, the ultrasound tech had a puzzled look on her face and pulled in a supervisor. I was informed that I have not one uterus, but two uteri, and that I only have one kidney. Apparently, I was born with this strange uterine abnormality and without a left kidney, and I lived 25 years without ever knowing it.
My strange ultrasound findings led me to a gynecologist in Omaha, who turned out to be yet another waste of time. Test after test and visit after visit with this doctor led me to a possible diagnosis of interstitial cystitis, but no reason for my abnormal bleeding and continued severe abdominal pain. This doctor was unwilling to listen to me, and I really feel like he blew off my concerns. After months without any answers and continued pain, swelling and weird bleeding, Ryan, my family and I made the decision that I needed to see another doctor.
At the end of August, I made a trip to Minneapolis to see a doctor at the OB/GYN clinic my grandma works for (this is actually the same clinic I now work for, too!). With  my permission, my grandma had shared a lot of what was going on with me with Dr. Haislet, who specialized in endometriosis (sadly, he recently retired in June of this year). He agreed to see me, and after my first appointment, his recommendation was for me to undergo surgery to get an accurate look at what was going on with my body.
September 19, Ryan and my grandma drove me to Abbott Northwestern Hospital in Minneapolis for my first surgery (other than my wisdom teeth). I underwent a laparoscopy, hysteroscopy, D&C and myomectomy. Dr. Haislet found answers to much of what had been going on with me. He found:

• I had four uterine fibroids, two of which were fairly large. It's very possible that these will eventually grow back and that I will have to undergo surgery again to have them removed. It's also possible that more will show up. 
• I definitely have a bicornuate uterus, meaning that instead of one uterus, mine has two separate horns, divided by a septum. However, I only have one cervix (the GYN in Omaha had informed me I had two). This condition occurs in about 0.5 percent of all women in the United States. 
• I have a non-patent left fallopian tube, but have a normal left ovary. This means that my left ovary produces eggs, but they don't have anywhere to go, which often causes me pain. A non-patent tube with a normal ovary is apparently very rare. 

So, what does this all mean for me? First, it means that I'm special and unique. I am one of the one in every 750 people who has been born with only one kidney, and I am one of the 0.5% of women in the United States with a bicornuate uterus. 

Second, it means that, while not impossible, having children will be difficult for me. Because I am unable to release eggs every month like a normal woman, my chances of getting pregnant are reduced by at least 50 percent. If or when I decide to actively start trying to have a child, there is a large chance that I'll have to use an infertility drug, such as Clomid, to help me with producing enough eggs to give me a fighting chance. 

Third, if I ever become pregnant, I will be classified as a high risk pregnancy from day one. Having one kidney means that I will have to be checked regularly to make sure the baby isn't putting too much stress on my kidney. My bicornuate uterus puts me at a higher risk for preterm labor and a breech baby. I am almost guaranteed to have to deliver via C-section if or when I ever have a child. 

Why does the "So, when are you having a baby?" question hurt me? It hurts because, while I have been told that technically I should be able to have a baby, I know that both conceiving a baby and then trying to carry a baby to term is going to be really difficult for me. I'm not going to have the easy time that so many of my friends and family have seemed to have with getting pregnant, and I don't think that many people understand that having a child isn't always simple for everyone. 

I know that this information was personal and probably more than anyone ever wanted to know about me. But, for me, it's important that people know why having children is such a touchy subject with me. I have gone through different phases with dealing with knowing that I have all of these gynecological issues, from being depressed, to being embarrassed, to being almost fascinated and wanting to educate others on these issues. 

I don't know what the future holds for me in this department. I don't know if I will ever be blessed with a child or when that might happen. For now, I'm still working on figuring out some of my medical issues that have remained a mystery, and I am thoroughly enjoying watching my friends and family's children learn and grow into amazing little people. 

Thanks to my family and friends who have been so supportive of me as I have worked on sorting out these medical issues. And thanks to my readers for allowing me to be open with you on this subject. 

The Dark Side of Facebook

In the past couple of weeks, I have become well-acquainted with the dark side of Facebook. What started as me browsing through various pages and writing a few comments here and there turned into me being sucked into a deep, dark hole of negativity.

My trip to the dark side started with a picture that a friend posted of another lady breast-feeding. In her post, she called people who didn't share her opinion that public breastfeeding was OK hypocrites, stating that people shouldn't be OK with seeing low-cut shirts if they weren't OK seeing a woman openly breastfeeding. Soon, this picture popped up on several of my other friend's pages. I shared my opinion on this and soon found myself sucked into a heated conversation about whether or not women should breastfeed in public without covering themselves.
While I'm sure most of my friends who are mothers were simply trying to share their points of view, I felt attacked by many of them and decided that take it upon myself to share my opinion some more and find even more people who agreed with me. This is how I found myself commenting on everything any of these people posted about breastfeeding, shoving my opinions down people's throats and getting a sick sort of high every time someone would click "like" on my comments.
After getting sick of educating everyone on what I view as being proper public breastfeeding etiquette, I turned my attention elsewhere. I got sucked into more posts about whether a parent or society is responsible for sensoring what a child sees and hears. I was called a "judgmental bitch," which just fueled the fire. I refused to stop posting until this person I got into a Facebook war with could see how I was right and she was wrong.
Somewhere around the five-millionth post (OK... five million might be a tiny exaggeration), it hit me that I honestly didn't even care about the subject I was fighting over with this stranger. I was fighting and being negative simply for the conflict, and I had no idea why.
Face-to-face, I very rarely fight with people, and I certainly never fight with people I don't know. I avoid conflict at all costs, trying to resolve issues before they even start. On Facebook, though, not being able to see how I was affecting other people gave me the freedom to say whatever I wanted without being worried about having to come face-to-face with the people I was upsetting.
I never called people names during my Facebook battles. I never even cursed at people on there. But, I did knock other people's opinions down simply to prove my own point, which is sometimes even worse than calling names.
I'm not a nasty and mean person, but I let Facebook turn me into an online bully. Thank goodness I had a break-through, and now I can end that nasty cycle! I'm leaving my negativity in my head and focusing on the happy part of Facebook. I am very happy to say that I'm back from the dark side, and my online future looks pretty bright. 

Guess Who's Back...

I have wanted to come back to my blog for a long time now, but I wasn't really sure where to start. Most of the blogs I follow focus on one thing, so I felt like I had to only focus on one thing. But, what was that ONE thing going to be?
I spent hours making lists of all the things I could possibly write about, but I couldn't seem to choose just one topic. Finally, it hit me: I should write about all of my topics!
Everything I had on my topics list is a part of who I am. So, I suppose from this point on, this blog is all about me. Exciting, huh? I promise I'm not as self-centered as this statement makes me sound...
Who am I? Well, I am a wife, a daughter, a writer, a clarinetist. I am a perfectionist who stays up too late most nights and drinks WAY too much caffeine. Most importantly, though, I am me. No more no less. I gave up trying to be someone I'm not a long time ago.
Welcome to my life. Come back often and join me as I try to clean out the cobwebs in my brain. It'll be fun... I promise!