a little light in the tunnel

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, we began treatment with a fertility specialist in December. He is a well known doctor and we have felt completely comfortable under his care. Step-by-step he set out an entire list of things to do.

Well, we may have finally gotten out answer! Truthfully, I never expected to get one. I just figured we were dealing with some fluke, something unknown, which may still prove to be true. But for now, we have found something.

It turns out I have a genetic mutation called MTHFR (yes I know, sounds like a bad word and in my mind, kinda is). Anyways...basically my body isn't metabolizing Folic Acid which is obviously essential to life inside me. It also means that I am more susceptible to blood clots forming around the placenta.

Apparently women can have a healthy pregnancy and then start miscarrying like I have been doing. A lot of doctor's won't even test for it because it isn't too common.

Praise God, I only have one mutation of this. Some people have 2, which puts that at high risk for Spinal Bifida and other neural tube defects.

The solution is simple. A prescription strength amount of folic acid along with a baby asprin every day.

Thank you to all of you who have been checking in with me and also for your prayers. God does amazing things because of the voices of his children!

pickling...or is it canning?

Do you ever have those days where you just feel totally domesticated? Those days where you are totally proud of yourself because you feel you fit the mold of the perfect housewife?

I totally had one of those days yesterday because...

I canned!!!

Or maybe I pickled. I'm not sure of the difference. I canned pickles so maybe the 2 words are interchangeable.

Seriously, never done anything like that before. When I think if canning, I think of jams (gross), fruit (can't I just buy motts) and botulism.

No seriously. Having taken semesters upon semesters of bodily diseases, I am a true botulism phobic.

Anyway, Robin and I are trying a new form of domestication in the form of pickles!

Until yesterday I had never heard of brine (still not totally sure what it is), thought that you still sealed canning jars with wax (apparently that is so old school), and thought you boiled everything you canned (just jam- I think...I'll never know because I'll never do it).

I really knew nothing. I am a canning virgin. My only experience witnessing it was in Sweet Home Alabama when Reese Witherspoon finally hangs out with her mom while trying to forget Patrick Dempsey and Josh Lucas (and let's be honest, that's basically impossible).

I digress.

The reason this all began is because Robin's friend Lorrie makes these amazing pickles. The jars are filled with dill, garlic, and onion. I have never just popped an uncooked raw onion into my mouth before.

Until the pickles.

Joel doesn't like pickles. He won't eat them. But he loves eating just garlic and onion so when we ran out of cucumbers, we made Joel some jars of just garlic and onion.

Any time we've seen Lorrie in the past year, we have selfishly and unashamedly tried to woo pickles out of her.

We eventually drew the conclusion that if we wanted one year of pickle bliss, we'd need to take matters into our own hands.

Again, I digress.

We began with a bushel of cucumbers just made to be pickled.

A bushel.

I don't even know how much that is. This is a bushel:



Then we cried.

And cried some more.

Because we sliced at least 10 of the largest onions you've ever seen. I can't even slice 1/4 of a onion without crying. So 10 was monumental.

We stuffed the jars.

Artistic isn't it?


And 4 hours later...

we had 41 jars of pickles...

(doesn't she look thrilled?!?!)


ready to sit in the basement for 1 month until we can eat them.

Yeah, a month.

Isn't that obnoxiously long?

Mason and I were reliving our canning (or pickling) moments this morning and he asked if we could have pickles tonight.

I told him they'd have to sit in the basement for a long time so they turn yummy.

His reply?

"Stink mom. That's stinks!"

I agree. Sorry that your canning/pickling (???) virgin mom said they'd be ready to eat last night.

Donor Dash 2008

I ran in a race on Sunday!

But read on before you get too excited. It was a 5k (I'm not going to convert that for you- it sounds better in kilometers). But we had a great time.

My sis-in-law Jenn works for a company called Donor Alliance and heads up the Donor Dash. It's a great race at Wash Park with everything from Starbucks, to bagels, to chapstick (best EVER) and of course, all the freebies you can carry.

What made the race less fun was the obnoxious amount of dog poop left by the locals. Stink! Imagine trying to run with that smell flying up your nostrils.

My mom, Robin, and I all attended and had a blast. It was great to have just us girls. Believe me, I didn't envy those pushing their jogging stoller in the least bit.

I certainly didn't improve on my time and I'm sure that most of you could beat my time but I was pretty proud of my 30.something minutes.

Joel is regretting his decision not to attend since right before the 3 mile marker guys were handing out free beer.

Recycle Yourself