We all know what Colin Kaepernick is doing. He has decided to sit during the national anthem to protest racially charged shootings between police and people of color. Let me be honest here, I doubt his intentions and the validity of why he is doing this.
A person should be able to stand up and extend their voice against any social injustice. No one should pretend to be something they are not in order to not go against the social grain of normality. This whole thing is just odd. I say that because I remember, vividly remember, when the Rams had a handful of players coming out onto the field last season with their hands up... when the "hands up, don't shoot" movement began after the death of Michael Brown.
Where was he then when this movement began? I looked back on headlines containing his name and could not find anything showing me that he made any waves during this movement.
I look at Kaepernick and I see someone who is on the edge of being released from a NFL football team. Someone who is trying to make a pre-emptive excuse for his downfall within the NFL. He is not the player he was when he lead his team to the Superbowl and currently is that team's third string QB. I think he is embarrassed and is sick of having that pointed out; thus let's open the door for him to "protest" a social injustice and forget his lack of skill on the field.
What is peculiar to me is how the NFL is allowing this type of nonsense. Heaven forbid a player wear the wrong socks, shoes, or any other type of equipment on game day. They get FINED for that!
When it comes to standing up for our national anthem though the 49ers released this statement:
"The national anthem is and always will be a special part of the pre-game ceremony. In respecting such American principles as freedom of religion and freedom of expression, we recognize the right of an individual to choose and participate, or not, in our celebration of the national anthem."
What a line of nonsense! How can the 49ers release such garbage? If the NFL continues to allow this, they can no longer lay claim to supporting our troops. How can they when they allow a multi-millionaire player to sit?
I fully support everyone's right to freedom of speech and expression, but not from someone who is doing this for all of the wrong reasons. Kaepernick isn't doing right by any social injustice, his team, this nation, nor himself.
If Kaepernick REALLY wants to see change, go DO something! Stop sitting on your rear end and flapping off your gums. Talk means nothing! You have to get dirty and sweaty to actually make a difference. If we're really talking social injustice, where is he when innocent people are murdered on the streets of Chicago, or any where else in this world?
You cannot make change happen by sitting down. Too many people are doing that SAME thing and it is getting us nowhere!
Fund a project to educate kids about the dangers of gangs. Talk openly to those who think the only way to be taken seriously is to be "hardcore". Encourage people to get an education! Don't just sit down, too many people are sitting down on too many things now.
In all honesty Kaepernick, you look like a fool.
Monday, August 29, 2016
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
Yep, You're Pregnant! (Part 3)
This time we were ready. We had already had the testing done. In a sad twist of fate, the miscarriage proved we could in fact get pregnant, so the odds were higher in our favor. Clomid and more cycle monitoring for us! It was a crazy couple of cycles.
The heartbreak every month was dehumanizing when mother nature showed up. The pills made me crazy hot. What is supposed to be the fun part in the bedroom turns into a scheduled appointment. It is not fun by any stretch of the imagination, but you do it because the end result is something spectacular.
It was around October of 2013 that I was beat. I needed a break from spending $300 plus for cycle monitoring and medications. I was going to turn 30 the next year and I wanted to get in shape. I wanted that to be my focus, so the husband and I agreed to have a break. I dedicated myself to my P90X routine and there were results! I was looking good! (For those living with PCOS, you know how hard losing weight is and I was actually doing it!)
December came and we were all getting ready for Christmas. As someone who is usually always hot, I love winter, it helps me feel relatively normal. My husband and his mom went to the mall that day and I was left alone to my own devices for some time. I wandered around the house and played with our pups, Rugby and Bazinga. Around dinnertime I decided to be nice and have food ready for my husband when he got home so I started to cook. It was about halfway through the process that my brain registered that I was cold. I was surprised. It had been a long time since I felt cold, so my brain said, "Well THIS is weird." I kept cooking and was not warming up. I don't know why I thought of it, but I decided to go into the bathroom and take a pregnancy test. It would turn out negative anyway, but let's give it a shot.
I took the digital test and went back to cooking. You see, when you take a pregnancy test every week and it always comes up NO, it isn't a wonder that I completely forgot about it until 15 minutes later. I stirred the pot and went into the bathroom. Looking back at me from my bathroom counter was that white piece of plastic that read PREGNANT. I couldn't believe it! I couldn't believe it so much that I actually said "F*@& you" to the object on my counter and ran out get more pregnancy tests to prove it wrong. I remember turning off my stove but not the candle I was burning.
I left the house looking like I had seen a ghost and left my pups with an unattended fire hazard. I raced to the grocery store a few blocks from my house and went to a clerk to get them to unlock the tests. She looked at me and asked if I was ok, not even remembering what I said, I asked her for all 4 different brands of tests she had, bought 2 bottles of Gatorade and went back to the car.
On my way home, I was chugging my first Gatorade and my husband calls me. "Where are you? You left a candle burning."
"Have you been in the bathroom yet," I asked.
"No, why?"
"Just GO!"
I heard him walking into the bathroom and a few seconds later he says, calm as a monk, "Well how about that."
The heartbreak every month was dehumanizing when mother nature showed up. The pills made me crazy hot. What is supposed to be the fun part in the bedroom turns into a scheduled appointment. It is not fun by any stretch of the imagination, but you do it because the end result is something spectacular.
It was around October of 2013 that I was beat. I needed a break from spending $300 plus for cycle monitoring and medications. I was going to turn 30 the next year and I wanted to get in shape. I wanted that to be my focus, so the husband and I agreed to have a break. I dedicated myself to my P90X routine and there were results! I was looking good! (For those living with PCOS, you know how hard losing weight is and I was actually doing it!)
December came and we were all getting ready for Christmas. As someone who is usually always hot, I love winter, it helps me feel relatively normal. My husband and his mom went to the mall that day and I was left alone to my own devices for some time. I wandered around the house and played with our pups, Rugby and Bazinga. Around dinnertime I decided to be nice and have food ready for my husband when he got home so I started to cook. It was about halfway through the process that my brain registered that I was cold. I was surprised. It had been a long time since I felt cold, so my brain said, "Well THIS is weird." I kept cooking and was not warming up. I don't know why I thought of it, but I decided to go into the bathroom and take a pregnancy test. It would turn out negative anyway, but let's give it a shot.
I took the digital test and went back to cooking. You see, when you take a pregnancy test every week and it always comes up NO, it isn't a wonder that I completely forgot about it until 15 minutes later. I stirred the pot and went into the bathroom. Looking back at me from my bathroom counter was that white piece of plastic that read PREGNANT. I couldn't believe it! I couldn't believe it so much that I actually said "F*@& you" to the object on my counter and ran out get more pregnancy tests to prove it wrong. I remember turning off my stove but not the candle I was burning.
I left the house looking like I had seen a ghost and left my pups with an unattended fire hazard. I raced to the grocery store a few blocks from my house and went to a clerk to get them to unlock the tests. She looked at me and asked if I was ok, not even remembering what I said, I asked her for all 4 different brands of tests she had, bought 2 bottles of Gatorade and went back to the car.
On my way home, I was chugging my first Gatorade and my husband calls me. "Where are you? You left a candle burning."
"Have you been in the bathroom yet," I asked.
"No, why?"
"Just GO!"
I heard him walking into the bathroom and a few seconds later he says, calm as a monk, "Well how about that."
Yep, You're Pregnant! (Part Two)
When someone goes through loss there are different ways of coping with the pain. Some need time, others may need to ignore it and bury themselves in activities... for me I became overwhelmed and bitter. I was angry. Furiously angry. What a cruel trick that God had played on me. I hadn't done anything bad in my lifetime, stupid, but not damning. I was a kind person. I helped others when I could.
I could not stop wondering what I done so WRONG in my life that I was given such a gift to have it yanked away from me so quickly????!!! Why was I given this curse of infertility? How DARE this happen to me!
I had heard someone tell me that people said I wasn't the same person anymore. I used to be carefree and happy, and now I was, for lack of a better word, a buzz kill. I had changed. I don't deny it. I was a changed person. To say I was sad and angry is being polite, but no one would ever understand my struggle. Not many would ever know what it is like to go through the daily struggle with PCOS. No one will know the ugly truth surrounding how mortifying it is to have doctors poke and prod every inch of you. To know and have it confirmed that I was the problem that my husband could not have a baby he so desperately deserved chipped away at my confidence. There wasn't a single soul who could relate with what my husband and I were experiencing because we were the only ones dealing with this problem.
Sure there are infertility clinics open for more people than just myself. I know there were other people going in there for some of the same reasons because I saw them while I was there for my appointments... but no one could relate to me and my struggle. That's how far gone I felt.
So consumed with anger had I become that family members did not want to share news someone in the family was pregnant. My husband worried after me and I shut him out. It was a dark, lonely time, and it really did not have to be. There were and still are others going through this battle with infertility. The CDC reports that 6% of the US population are infertile, but I think it is much higher than that. After all, it's expensive and embarassing.
The cost of infertility care is ridiculously high in America. Even with Obamacare, none of the treatment is covered if you are a civilian; service members have an edge here because some of their treatment is covered for infertility. This care should be covered for everyone. Afterall, how hard is it to do a vaginal ultrasound and cycle monitoring? Then I remember that making babies is a booming industry, upwards of Billions of dollars a year. The paranoid person in me is easily moved into a conspiracy between those who want to maintain their high dollar businesses and those who believe this is a way to keep the population controlled... but that's for another day.
How did I finally move on? Remember how I said that my family was afraid to tell me of a family member who was pregnant? Well, they told me....
I was at work, why my husband told me on my lunch break I will never understand, but I screamed out in fury. My heart was racing... these people weren't even TRYING for heaven's sake! I was driving and close to hyperventilating. I saw a church and pulled into the parking lot. The front doors were opened and I zoomed inside avoiding every office and person I could and went into the sanctuary. I sat and buried my face in my hands and cried. I yelled at God for cursing me so. I damned all of the people who had a child who sure as hell did not deserve one. I was anything but sweet and kind that day. Whatever temper was in me was unleashed. I cried for I don't even remember how long, and by the time I was done my face doubled in size and I looked like I had been laying in the sun too long I was so red.
As I relaxed and came down, I felt better. Calmer.
Over the next few months I stopped going on infertility message boards. I stopped being a part of a local infertility group on Facebook. I would look at a woman who was swollen with pregnancy and not feel sadness or anger, but happiness. After all, I have no idea what she went through for her to be able to get there. I celebrated, genuinely celebrated, people announcing their pregnancies. Slowly I came out of my dark funk.
I was ready to try again.
I could not stop wondering what I done so WRONG in my life that I was given such a gift to have it yanked away from me so quickly????!!! Why was I given this curse of infertility? How DARE this happen to me!
I had heard someone tell me that people said I wasn't the same person anymore. I used to be carefree and happy, and now I was, for lack of a better word, a buzz kill. I had changed. I don't deny it. I was a changed person. To say I was sad and angry is being polite, but no one would ever understand my struggle. Not many would ever know what it is like to go through the daily struggle with PCOS. No one will know the ugly truth surrounding how mortifying it is to have doctors poke and prod every inch of you. To know and have it confirmed that I was the problem that my husband could not have a baby he so desperately deserved chipped away at my confidence. There wasn't a single soul who could relate with what my husband and I were experiencing because we were the only ones dealing with this problem.
Sure there are infertility clinics open for more people than just myself. I know there were other people going in there for some of the same reasons because I saw them while I was there for my appointments... but no one could relate to me and my struggle. That's how far gone I felt.
So consumed with anger had I become that family members did not want to share news someone in the family was pregnant. My husband worried after me and I shut him out. It was a dark, lonely time, and it really did not have to be. There were and still are others going through this battle with infertility. The CDC reports that 6% of the US population are infertile, but I think it is much higher than that. After all, it's expensive and embarassing.
The cost of infertility care is ridiculously high in America. Even with Obamacare, none of the treatment is covered if you are a civilian; service members have an edge here because some of their treatment is covered for infertility. This care should be covered for everyone. Afterall, how hard is it to do a vaginal ultrasound and cycle monitoring? Then I remember that making babies is a booming industry, upwards of Billions of dollars a year. The paranoid person in me is easily moved into a conspiracy between those who want to maintain their high dollar businesses and those who believe this is a way to keep the population controlled... but that's for another day.
How did I finally move on? Remember how I said that my family was afraid to tell me of a family member who was pregnant? Well, they told me....
I was at work, why my husband told me on my lunch break I will never understand, but I screamed out in fury. My heart was racing... these people weren't even TRYING for heaven's sake! I was driving and close to hyperventilating. I saw a church and pulled into the parking lot. The front doors were opened and I zoomed inside avoiding every office and person I could and went into the sanctuary. I sat and buried my face in my hands and cried. I yelled at God for cursing me so. I damned all of the people who had a child who sure as hell did not deserve one. I was anything but sweet and kind that day. Whatever temper was in me was unleashed. I cried for I don't even remember how long, and by the time I was done my face doubled in size and I looked like I had been laying in the sun too long I was so red.
As I relaxed and came down, I felt better. Calmer.
Over the next few months I stopped going on infertility message boards. I stopped being a part of a local infertility group on Facebook. I would look at a woman who was swollen with pregnancy and not feel sadness or anger, but happiness. After all, I have no idea what she went through for her to be able to get there. I celebrated, genuinely celebrated, people announcing their pregnancies. Slowly I came out of my dark funk.
I was ready to try again.
Yep, You're Pregnant! (Part 1)
For those of you who may not know, I struggled with infertility. My husband and I went through 3 years of tests, treatments, planning, heartbreaks, setbacks, and loss. There really is nothing else in world like dealing with an infertility issue. Your life becomes consumed with doctors, charts,lab work, and test results. Infertility is all you think about and talk about. It's mentally and spiritually draining.
Then the first time comes where you FINALLY have a "Pregnant" pop on a home pregnancy test. I still remember the very first time I saw that double line. It was better than a cold drink on a hot day, it was magical. Then the doctor calls and confirms via blood-work that you are indeed pregnant. I remember that day vividly:
It was the week before Thanksgiving and I was going back to the office after lunch. Once I got off the phone with the nurse, I called my husband who would not believe we were pregnant until the blood-work came back. (At that point it had been a rough year and a half for him.) He was so happy that he started crying on the phone with me while I was navigating through traffic teary-eyed myself. We told everyone and our family was overjoyed, our friends cried, it was AMAZING! FINALLY!
The day before Thanksgiving, we went to the grocery store. My husband patted my stomach and hugged me and said this would be our last trip before Thanksgiving without a baby, and we both were deep-in-the-gut happy. Thanksgiving came and it was really all we could think and talk about.... the next day I woke up and my back would not stop hurting. I went to the bathroom and saw a little bit of blood. We went to the hospital and they confirmed that my Beta levels dropped, and there was nothing we could do. We were losing the baby we had gone through so much to get.
I felt like a failure. I wasn't supposed to lose this child we had just learned we had.
If you have not had to deal with a miscarriage, then I cannot describe the grief. It's unbearable to think of the loss of a life that will never be. There could be a million things you did right to make that life, but if one thing goes wrong in the cell division process or if nerves do not fire correctly... you end up having to start over. 80% of miscarriages happen within the first Trimester. 50% of all pregnancy ends in miscarriage, according to he March of Dimes, and out of those of us who knew we were pregnant, 15-25% end. That is a group of numbers for anyone thinking of having a child.
But you go on as best you can after. There is still a part of me every year that mourns that baby. I have no idea the gender, nor how far along we really were. Would it have made it easier? Probably not, so I don't know why I focus on it except to toss it up to my curious nature. I refer to that baby as Baby 1, our first baby.
Then the first time comes where you FINALLY have a "Pregnant" pop on a home pregnancy test. I still remember the very first time I saw that double line. It was better than a cold drink on a hot day, it was magical. Then the doctor calls and confirms via blood-work that you are indeed pregnant. I remember that day vividly:
It was the week before Thanksgiving and I was going back to the office after lunch. Once I got off the phone with the nurse, I called my husband who would not believe we were pregnant until the blood-work came back. (At that point it had been a rough year and a half for him.) He was so happy that he started crying on the phone with me while I was navigating through traffic teary-eyed myself. We told everyone and our family was overjoyed, our friends cried, it was AMAZING! FINALLY!
The day before Thanksgiving, we went to the grocery store. My husband patted my stomach and hugged me and said this would be our last trip before Thanksgiving without a baby, and we both were deep-in-the-gut happy. Thanksgiving came and it was really all we could think and talk about.... the next day I woke up and my back would not stop hurting. I went to the bathroom and saw a little bit of blood. We went to the hospital and they confirmed that my Beta levels dropped, and there was nothing we could do. We were losing the baby we had gone through so much to get.
I felt like a failure. I wasn't supposed to lose this child we had just learned we had.
If you have not had to deal with a miscarriage, then I cannot describe the grief. It's unbearable to think of the loss of a life that will never be. There could be a million things you did right to make that life, but if one thing goes wrong in the cell division process or if nerves do not fire correctly... you end up having to start over. 80% of miscarriages happen within the first Trimester. 50% of all pregnancy ends in miscarriage, according to he March of Dimes, and out of those of us who knew we were pregnant, 15-25% end. That is a group of numbers for anyone thinking of having a child.
But you go on as best you can after. There is still a part of me every year that mourns that baby. I have no idea the gender, nor how far along we really were. Would it have made it easier? Probably not, so I don't know why I focus on it except to toss it up to my curious nature. I refer to that baby as Baby 1, our first baby.
Wednesday, August 3, 2016
Crystal Balls and Looking Glasses
I wish I had the ability to look into the future... just a little peek. Our world is at such a crossroads that you would think that everyone would unite in wanting the best possible positive outcome.
There are those of us who see danger and want to fix them, and those who see that we are doing fine and need not to alter the course. These different views of the our nation do nothing more than cause a greater rift among us, and make this process so much harder. Not that opposing view points are bad, they give us a chance to think and collaborate. Yet we only have one planet, one country, so how can we all unite?
That is why I want the crystal ball, to glimpse at what could be. I would want to see the world after both Trump and Clinton, and see which one is the best possible outcome.
I don't want to gamble the future of my child, my country, nor the world. This election is scary and I understand that this is going to affect more than just myself and my family.
For me, Clinton is not the answer. I have made that abundantly clear. Trump scares me but he does so much less than Clinton. Since it is 2016, why can't the public be offered more than two political parties battling over power?
As a history fanatic, I wonder if every person abreast with politics in the past felt the same way. Was the general public as concerned over Washington or Lincoln as we are with Trump and Clinton? Were there intensely heated debates over dinners that families decided they could not talk politics with one another after the election of our first President? More so, what would Washington and Lincoln say about these two front runners?
When I cast my vote in November, I just want the best possible outcome. Not the lesser of two evils.
There are those of us who see danger and want to fix them, and those who see that we are doing fine and need not to alter the course. These different views of the our nation do nothing more than cause a greater rift among us, and make this process so much harder. Not that opposing view points are bad, they give us a chance to think and collaborate. Yet we only have one planet, one country, so how can we all unite?
That is why I want the crystal ball, to glimpse at what could be. I would want to see the world after both Trump and Clinton, and see which one is the best possible outcome.
I don't want to gamble the future of my child, my country, nor the world. This election is scary and I understand that this is going to affect more than just myself and my family.
For me, Clinton is not the answer. I have made that abundantly clear. Trump scares me but he does so much less than Clinton. Since it is 2016, why can't the public be offered more than two political parties battling over power?
As a history fanatic, I wonder if every person abreast with politics in the past felt the same way. Was the general public as concerned over Washington or Lincoln as we are with Trump and Clinton? Were there intensely heated debates over dinners that families decided they could not talk politics with one another after the election of our first President? More so, what would Washington and Lincoln say about these two front runners?
When I cast my vote in November, I just want the best possible outcome. Not the lesser of two evils.
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