This started out as a fun little painting project ... but, somehow it morphed into a big o' mess of greatness. :) Aww kids, sometimes ya' just gotta follow their lead...

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"Pardon Our Poo" - 5 new articles

  1. need art? jump on it!
  2. maybe baby: airplanes
  3. three years = three celebrations
  4. a very, merry christmas
  5. yay, boo, sigh
  6. More Recent Articles

need art? jump on it!

This started out as a fun little painting project ... but, somehow it morphed into a big o' mess of greatness. :) Aww kids, sometimes ya' just gotta follow their lead...


maybe baby: airplanes

"Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky
are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now"

Eight months ago I had a fall cleaning … the doc went in and cleaned out all of my endometriosis. It was stage 4; there are only 4 stages.

Four days ago I had a spring cleaning … the doc went in and cleaned out my endometriosis, scar tissue and adhesions, removed a cyst and untangled my ovary, which had become “one” with my fallopian tube.

Eight months ago I believed I’d be pain/symptom free for two/three years, the average time endo remains “dormant” following a clean out and back-to-back birth control.

I had six months before the pain took control of my life. Again.

The recovery from this second surgery makes the memories of the first seem like a paper cut in comparison. I’ve never felt such excruciating pain — and subsequent fear — in my life.

Going into Tuesday, I was terrified of what they’d find — or, more honestly, of what they wouldn’t. I couldn’t have handled a non-cause, a long, endless list of possibilities. Certainties you can face, head on, it’s the mysteries that leave you breathless. Or, so I thought.

My biggest fear, aside from not knowing, had been the idea that I couldn’t be a mommy again. Cooper would be such an amazing big brother and it is written on my heart, on my soul, to see that dream come to fruition. If I can’t bake my own baby, there are, of course, other options, other equally beautiful avenues.

But now, sitting here, crumbling in a bout of pain uneased by meds, I am faced with an ugliness I hadn’t imagined: a life unlived. There is no cure, no absolute fix for endo, even complete removal of all things “mommy makers” isn’t a guarantee for pain-free days.

I have yet to find a pain med that eases my symptoms and allows me to be, well, me. Chronic pain inhibits my ability to be the kind of wife, daughter, friend, sister, aunt and, above all else, mother, I want to be. I can’t miss out — I refuse to miss out — on the little moments of Cooper’s life because my body chooses to glue itself into a mass of ugly. But, I have yet to find the strength to push through the pain.

Chris and I have an appointment with the infertility specialist next week and a post-op appointment with my surgeon the next.

I’m praying for answers, for help, for strength, for a light at the end of it all.

three years = three celebrations

Coopie's three today ... woo-hoo! No big party this year, instead we opted for three little celebrations. :)

Create your own video slideshow at


a very, merry christmas

yay, boo, sigh

Oh, the things we'll put our little munchkins through all for the sake of snagging that commemorative photo ...

7-month-old Coopie and Santa: besties!

19-month-old Coopie and Santa: mortal enemies!

2.5-year-old Coopie and Santa: frienemies! :) (Although jolly ol' St. Nick still seems to be on cousin Montana's naughty list).

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