Mama Unicorn

Starting in the month of January, something sparked within me. I’ve always wanted to be a Mommy, but baby fever got kicked to the curb and full on baby cravings kicked in!

My mind wouldn’t let it go, my body longed to have a tiny human inhabiting it, my heart suddenly felt like a piece of it wasn’t missing yet, wasn’t fulfilled.

Then February happened and the anxiety began…

I spotted for 3 days, had cramps, nausea, headaches, mood swings…*cue Shirley Ceasar* YOU NAME IT!

Could this be IT?! The object of my heart’s desires?! A tiny hooman just for meeee?!

Well….pregnancy results said no. NOPE. Nuh uh. Try Again.

March, April, May….no period. No symptoms. No baby.

I spent hours researching online. Hours spent on Pinterest, planning outfits/ bedroom décor.

Watching as the world passed me by and everyone getting pregnant…but me.

Depression was sinking in, hope was losing. Fear was winning.

A friend recommended a book to me, Prayers and Promises for SUPERNATURAL childbirth by Jackie Mize (which I totally recommend, by the way). It definitely resparked my faith. I now daily pray over my body, my Hubby’s body, and my future baby. I also wear the Ava bracelet, gifted to me by a dear friend.

All of these things so that I can properly keep track of/ prep myself for the munchkin to come. It has helped me tremendously- me and my psychiatric health.

Anyway, beginning of June, I noticed that I was having palpitations; something I hadn’t experienced in a very long time. I couldn’t understand why…it didn’t make any sense. Less than a week later, BAM.

“Hello period, my old friend….it’s been 4 months, where have you been?”

I was relieved! Alas, I menstruate, therefore…I shall soon ovulate! Which could lead to us being able to PROCREATE! AHHHH!!!

Prenatals had been in my routine for months already, but I made SURE not to miss a day, tracking my fertile days like a hawk, my Ava bracelet even told me that I indeed OVULATED (Google Biphasic patterns, tis pretty groovy)!

Couple of weeks after O-Day, I took a test…No baby. Oh well. Timing didn’t feel right anyway. September has been on my heart. No worries.

July starts and somehow so does my period…6 days early? That’s…different…

Rarely do I have an EARLY period, but okay. Whatevs. Its light and kind of slow and splotchy…definitely different, but what can you expect when your period is as wonky as mine? 4 days later, its gone.

Two days after that, I randomly have some brownish discharge? Huh? Whatchu talkin bout, Uterus? My anxiety and stress were already high, so I forced myself not to make it a big deal. Maybe it’s the lighting?

Two or three days after that, I’m at my besties house and decide to go potty. When I wiped….HUGE BLOOD CLOT! ERM…uhhh…fnjewkf nwjkn ejk….WHAT?!

I literally felt the air in my lungs rapidly leave my body and panic set in. I turned on the vanity light nearby and stared at the tissue holding the clot. “Did I…miscarry…? Why is this…What is this…Didn’t I JUST…Do I need to go to the E.R.?”

So many questions. No time for them to be answered. I flushed it down the toilet, washed my hands, and painted my face “Happy and Carefree.”

Once home, I voiced every concern and fear to my Dear Hubby, cried, researched…cried some more. Slept.

When I woke up, full on period bleeding. Like it was before my period drought.

WTF, body. Oh no, baby…what is you doin?!

I guess I just spotted for 4 days and NOW the real thing is here?!

Fast forward to now. As I type this.

Yesterday I found the clot. Today I’ve cried. Questioned. Panicked. Given Up.

Spoke with a lovely lady at my fave nail salon (I’ll write on that soon.)

Went to church, regained some faith. Bled some more

For the first time in over half of a year, I stood up 20 minutes ago and realized that I had bled through my shorts…wow. Okay. Like old times. Runnin like a fountain. Lovely.

This upcoming week, I am making my first OBYN appointment. For the first time EVER.

I’m terrified. I’m a hypochondriac…but I want a baby. I will whatever the hello and goodbye I have to…for my baby to be here.

My name is Sparkle and I believe in Unicorns.

Mine will be here soon.  

If you were to look at me right now you would just see a calm, slightly bored face. Skin is a bit dry; I should probably invest in some type of moisturizing cream soon. For the most part, there’s nothing remarkable about my outward appearance.

But as for the inward expressions…

Envision being in a metal shed with no ventilation, no windows. Only a small sliver under the door shows that there’s light on the side of these walls.

The only sounds you can hear are your rapid heartbeats & yourself beginning to hyperventilate.

Flashes of your mistakes, both past and present begin to flash before your eyes like movie clips or a newsreel. The humiliation you felt in those moments slam into your body once again.

All of the insecurities you’ve seemed to have been able to conquer and overcome slither their way up your body, like a cold blooded serpent. You suddenly feel smaller than a grain of sand and worth less than that.

“Am I good enough?!” “Why did I ever make that choice?!” What was I thinking?!“ "I bet they hate me!” The words reverberate around you and you almost wish the Earth would open up and eat you alive. Maybe that would make it stop.

This can’t be normal. I know how to be happy. Im a happy person. I go to church. I’m not supposed to be like this!

Just as you feel yourself gaining some residual hope, those metal walls begin to gradually crawl towards you from all angles. Scraping against the metal flooring and ceiling as it goes.

The tighter the space gets, the tighter your throat feels.

Sure, it doesn’t last forever. Those walls will retract eventually and you’ll see clearer after awhile.

You’ll remember who you are. The promises God has given you. The fact that you’re strong.

But in that moment. You’re trapped in a nightmare that doesn’t end by clicking your heels and saying “There’s no place like home.”

And even when you’re free from it, you remember that one negative thought can land you right back in that ugly metal box.

How do you do it?

Honestly! 

How do you do it?!

How do you remain positive and stay calm in the face of a storm that you feel like is going to cause you to drown?

I am currently going through this right now.

I have an AMTC deadline I need met by midnight and still need $112. By midnight. It is currently 7:30pm as I type this.

So...what do I do?

Do I get angry and curse God? I mean...how dare He give me this passion and take me this far into it just to not meet my needs within a timely manner?!

Doesn't He know Im currently being healed of anxiety?

What about the people that haven't donated to me? Do they not truly like me? Why won't God speak to their hearts? Are they listening? 

Im a good person,right?! I’m trustworthy! Im not asking for a kidney,here!

Did I make the wrong choice? Is this seriously my calling? What have i gotten myself into?! I have bills! I take care of me AND my mother! I scrape together enough money for rent and necessities with very little left for luxuries! 

In all reality, my dream and aspirations make lead me to waking up with a negative balance in my account and bills that still need to be paid this month.

I ask again...what have I gotten myself into?

Faith is scary. Lets just be seriously honest,here. Its scary trusting in a God I can't see...but its worth it. 

God has come through for me time and time again.

Rarely when I want it. Always when I need it most.

He’s always on time.

I don't know what this post is about honestly. I guess...I just needed to vent and surrender. Be raw. 

So, I went to the gym today and stopped in front of the mirror.

It’s a pretty typical sight to see at a gym: girls standing in front of the mirror, peering at their reflections. A lot of times, females don’t like what it is looking back at them (cute Christina Aguilera singing “Reflection). “Those love handles have got to go!” “Ugh, my arms are way too flabby!” We’ve all had the thoughts…and, ya know, my thighs do touch. As a matter of fact, they rub together.

My tummy hangs over my pants sometime, my arms are flabby, and yes, I have “rolls” on my back. Oh yeah, I’m gonna throw it all out there. Why? Because I’m tired of these things being called “flaws”. Could we just erase that word from the vocabulary designated to describe our bodies?

A Barbie coming off of the assembly line with no eyes and a missing leg; that fits the description of “flawed” and that is mostly because Barbie is a PRODUCT made by Mattel. Are you a product made in a factory to be sold as a play thing? No, darling, you are not. You were created by a Maker who makes no mistakes and doesn’t have the word “flaw” in His vocabulary.

Does this mean we are perfect? Nope. Not by a long shot, my dear. Christ is perfection but we were fearfully and wonderfully made by the same God that paints a new sunrise and sunset for us to admire. Which makes us more special than unicorns, kay?

Anyway, I don’t go to the gym to “fix a flaw” I see in the mirror and, in my unpopular opinion, I find that if someone goes to the gym for that reason…it’s the wrong reason.

I want to improve myself for the following reasons: 1. My body is a Temple and the dwelling of my Lord, I need to respect it. Now, some of you may not be what most call “religious”, but you should be able to agree when I say it’s a temple. It is yours, isn’t it? Respect it.

2. My future children will be shaped and molded inside of this body I have carelessly let go of. The way it looks won’t matter while they’re inside, mind you. It will be the way my heart functions, my blood pressure, the way my kidneys and liver filters, the way my lungs take in oxygen.   At this moment in time, my body isn’t prepared for a baby and won’t be until I change my diet and condition my body properly.

3. My future husband. He deserves a wife that will be around long enough to support him, our kids, and our future grandchildren. He, of course, deserves the best and that is what I intend to give him. For I am not perfect at all but I have been made perfect for him and he for me.

 I don’t mind being “thick”, I’m grateful for my shape, and I love my curves. What I strive for is to be healthy and healthy does not always equal skinny.  

Healthy is a state of mind and being.

With all of that said, 

Be Happy, Be Healthy, Be You.

May the glitter be ever in your favor,