Posted in Fertility Battles, Motherhood

Before we met, I knew you…

Before we met, I knew you…

I knew what you would look like. How you would smell.  How it would feel to hold you and have you lay in my arms.

Before we met, I knew you…

We would be closer than any two people could be. My heart would burst with joy and love every time I would see you.

Before we met I knew how I would dress you…the soft pajama onesies, fashion jeans and comfy sweaters. They were all hung up, just waiting for you to put them on, and become my little guy.

Before we met, I knew we were going to have great conversations, especially while driving. I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist looking in the rear view mirror to watch you speak and to see your facial expressions as you told me about your day.

Before we met, I knew that I would be in love with your fingers and your toes.  That they would just have to be kissed and nibbled every day, and that the smell of you would intoxicate me.

I knew that you would not fall asleep while I read to you at night.  Because we would talk about the story as we explored the adventures together.

Before we met, I knew you would always go to sleep with a peaceful heart.  Your thoughts would be filled with goodness and your eyes would close with contentment and confidence that you were loved.


Before we met I knew you…

I knew that once you came I wouldn’t be able to live without you.

I knew that every morning would be brighter and filled with magic just because you were here.

I knew that your morning or night time cry would never be a burden, but a symphony of love calling me to you.

Before we met, I knew that your pain would be my pain. That life as I knew it would never be the same, and that was ok.


Before we met, I knew that even though my life had been filled with darkness, yours would only be filled with light.

You would know what happiness was.

You would know that my hugs and kisses were a part of you, not a foreign experience, but an unconscious part of your existence.

You would know that my eyes would watch over you and that my every thought would be for you to be safe and happy.

Before we met, I knew you would never have to fear me. My presence would not make you run away from me, but towards me.  My hands would only touch you with tenderness, never cruelty.

Your room would be your sanctuary.  A place for you to feel calm and peaceful.  A room that would be filled with your treasures, and your walls a tapestry of your favorite imaginary friends and memories.

Your room would never be a prison.  It would at no time be a place for you to hate yourself and blame yourself for things that were out of your control.

This would never happen.

Your home would always welcome you.

Walking through the front door I would see you exhale as you left the outside world and rejoice in the safe haven of your home and family.

Your home would never be a place that you dreaded coming to.  A place where you were unsure of what was happening inside.  Wondering if the outside world was safer than the inside.

Before we met, I knew I would be a strong mother.  As mine was for me.

You would have a mother that grew up in a battle ground.  A mother who would bare scars from her past.  A mother who would protect you as mine did for me.

You will have a mother who would work to right the wrongs of her past.


Before we met I knew that one day I would share my story with you.  Not to scare you or make you feel sorrow, but to make you understand.

Understand that your life was so very important to me.  That a mother’s love is transcendent.  And that with every generation we get better.

You will be better.


Before we met, I knew my story would change.  That being a mother was my purpose, and that I would openly and whole heartedly share this journey with you, so that you would be and do better than me.

Now that we have met, and your small hand holds mine, I know that miracles do exist.  I see it in your eyes, as they are a reflection of mine.  And when I look in them I know that I have created something good.

As you grow, I will be growing with you, on this journey called Life.

Our adventures are in the early stages, and I seem to know less now that you are here, then I did before we met.

But know this, no matter what happens in our lives, I am forever yours, and you are forever mine.

This is what I always knew… before we met.











Posted in My Relationship with Alcohol

The Apology

One day, 9 years ago, someone looked me right in the eyes and had the courage to tell me that if I continued drinking the way I was drinking that the road ahead was not going to be pretty.

If I continued to drink in excess, there would come a day when the drink would control me more than I would control it.

There would come a day when life would start to get hard and all the goodness I was living would fall away.

Please stop now he begged.

Trust me.  I know what I am talking about, he said, because looking at you is like looking into a mirror.

I looked him straight in the eyes and without faulter, I smiled and thanked him for his concern.  I appreciated his over protection of me, but he really had nothing to worry about.  I told him I was sorry that alcohol caused problems for him, but for me it was just for fun and enjoyment.  An addiction…absolutely not.

It was hard to convince him on this day, as his arrival to our home was unexpected and our recycling was overflowing with alcohol bottles.

So, convince him I was ok…I don’t think so.  He smiled and again looked me right in the eyes and said that he guessed I must know best.

And of course, I did!

After he left I told my husband about the conversation, and we actually laughed about it.  How ridiculous!  I was not that ‘type’ of person to have ‘that’ kind of problem.  I loved my drinks and that was that.  Nothing was wrong at all.

Life continued on, as it does, and I was blessed to get pregnant.  How wonderful!  Being pregnant and knowing that I was going to be a mother is still to this day the happiest time of my life.

I was made for this.

I would do all the right things during my pregnancy and protect my unborn child, like most fierce mothers do.

The only challenge was that you can’t drink while pregnant.

Ugh! That was most inconvenient and more difficult than I had imagined it would be.

I had a few friends who where pregnant at the same time and this seemed to pose no problems for them.

For me…a much different story.  And here is a confession I am not proud of at all. I was a sipper during my pregnancy.  I didn’t drink, I sipped.  If my husband had a glass of wine during dinner, I would have my water, but I just couldn’t resist a sip.  That’s all, one sip.  But that in itself is bad enough.  I just had my nightly sip.

Now, I had the control and intelligence to know that anything more than that was just wrong.  But don’t let me fool you, every person who said things like “beer is great to drink while pregnant” or “a glass of Champagne it totally fine on New Year’s….it’s just one.  Nothing will happen… the baby is fine.”  All of these small permissions and more made me feel ‘okay’ about my daily sip.

But what always nagged me in the back of my mind was, why???

Why did I need that sip?


What was the point?

What was I getting out of it?

Where was my self control?

What the heck is wrong with me??

This pregnancy did not come easy.

This pregnancy cost us a lot of money.

So how could I take that sip?

But I did, and no justifications in the world can make it right.

It was wrong.

I was selfish.

And thankfully, I was lucky.

My son’s birth, his health, his life, is perfect.  As perfect as a little 8 year old boy’s life can be 🙂


Years later, after a lot of struggle and hardships that I will write about later, the same person confronted me again.  This time not as gentle.  Not as comforting.  Not as sympathetic.

This time it was harsh, brutal, honest and unforgiving.

And I got mad.

Mad and defensive.

I lashed back and our relationship has never been the same since.

But his words never left me.

They were there with every drink I poured. Every hang over I had.  Every moment of self hate I experienced.  And all the shame that enveloped itself around me.

He was strong.

I was not.

I was not ready to admit that he was right.

That he was right from the start.

But unfortunately, the way life works for most is that we have to go through the shit to get to the good stuff.  And boy have I gone through the shit.

And it also sadly takes a crisis or dramatic event in your life to snap you out of the haze you’ve been living in.

And I guess fortunately that happened to me.

And at my lowest of lows I saw the light.

I saw that all he had said was true.

He was right.

He was strong.

But I knew that I was strong too.

And I know he knows that.

That is why he was the only one who had the courage to face me and tell me the truth of what I was doing to myself.

So to him I say,



I am sorry for being a fake.

I am sorry for hurting you with unkind words.

I am sorry for creating a rift between our once unbreakable bond.

But mostly I am sorry that I wasn’t strong and smart enough at the time to heed your words.  To know your truth would be mine if I didn’t listen.

Thank you for loving me.

Thank you for being brave enough to confront me and plant the seed of doubt in my head.

Thank you for letting me figure this out, my way.

My promise to you is to do better.

To be strong and wise.

To trust love when it is looking me right in the eyes.

I know this has been difficult for you.

I am better and

I love you.




Posted in My Relationship with Alcohol

My Girls! Thank You!!

This morning felt like a new dawn. A new beginning.

My truth has been put out there for all to see.

And once the send button was hit… I waited.

And right away ‘ping’ … ‘ping’…. My girls were there!  My community of sisters, wives, friends, mothers…you were there!

My stomach felt tight and my hands were sweaty, but as I started to read the messages, texts and emails my heart started to fill.

So, this morning I feel blessed and strong, and to be honest a bit scared as well.  Scared because now you know. Now my secret is out.  But, I am going to put that feeling of fear in the closet for now and sit in the light for a while.  Feel the glow of understanding and caring.

And now the work begins.



The work of change.

Change is the hardest thing.  Because we all like to be comfortable.

But I have to ask, how comfortable are we really?

Do you ever get tired? Tired of the daily facade that everything is perfect.

Because it’s not. Life is messy.  And the reason I know this is because I ask.  I dig.  I question.

And I listen and share and then… I think.

I think about how as a community of women we keep the nitty gritty hidden inside.  I know so many women who suffer.  Silently.  But every day we get up and we get the job done.  We push through and we are all so very successful.  We are Masters at this.  Don’t get me wrong.  When I say we suffer, I am by no means saying that we are weak.  We are the strongest of them all!

We are so strong and brave.


And then one day we begin to feel the weight of it all. Our mind and body starts to give us signals that perhaps we are taking on too much.  Perhaps we have bitten off more than we can chew.

So now what?

I don’t know.

And that is what I am going to try and figure out.

That is why I am putting my truth out there.  I want you to know that there is someone else out there that is struggling as well.

I don’t have the answers…right now… but I am working on it.  And I know I am going to get better!  And if you feel any of this, so will you!!!

I love each and every one of you!  And feel so proud to have such an amazing group of women in my life!  I cheer for your happiness and all your dreams to come true.  And know that just as you are there for me, I am here for you!!!

Thank you for reading and being a part of this journey.



Posted in My Relationship with Alcohol


One of my best and worst traits is that I tell people EVERYTHING.

To a fault.

And I am usually the one who suffers or feels the consequences of sharing too much.

I don’t know why I do it.

But the hardest lesson I always learn is that sharing isn’t always a good thing.  And it is normally not a good thing when I share something too early.  Something that hasn’t had time to settle.  Something that still has movement and life and is changing.  It hasn’t stopped and when I share it, it will become something different shortly after.

What I need to do is learn to be still with things.  Especially things that are happening to me.  I need to be still and wait for the movement to stop.  Because when the stuff I want to share slows down, it is then that I am grateful that I kept the story to myself. OR, I feel confident that the story is now ready to be told, because it is what it is, and it is safe to share.

The hardest for me is when I share something too soon with someone I trust and love and their worry and concern turns against me.  This can make me very mad.  Especially when I have been honest and vulnerable and open and down.

Someone very close to me and whom I love dearly judged me.

Judged me in the harshest way.  For all people to judge me on marriage.  On fighting.  On doing the right thing.  Very hard to take.

My whole childhood was full of arguing.  Fighting. Abuse. Control. Pain. Sadness. Suffering. Isolation.


Fear all the time.

Fear has been the one constant.

Fear of expressing myself.

Fear of getting hurt.

Fear of disappointing.

Fear of saying what I wanted to say.

Fear of losing someone.

Fear of rejection.

Fear of love.

Fear Fear Fear Fear.

Fear has paralysed me many times.

Fear has moved me many times.

Fear is my enemy and my saviour.

Fear makes you vulnerable, and being vulnerable sets you up for hurt and pain.

How do you become less vulnerable? When do you let people in and tell them what you are going through and what you are feeling.  Is it better to tell people that don’t mean that much to you?  Or should you tell those that are closest to you?

Right now the answer is not to tell those that are closest to me. To share my story here, with you, anonymously.

Live my life.  Live my life without sharing my story…yet.

I am still working through it. My story still has so many more chapters.  So many more trials and tests that I will fail and succeed at.

My story should be told once it is still.

Once there is peace in my heart.

Once judgment won’t hurt because I am ok with my story.

Judgment hurts when you are still processing.  When the work is not done.  And when the work is not done, the story is not ready to be told.  But one day it will be.  And I hope that day is soon.



Posted in My Relationship with Alcohol


My head is splitting with the most excruciating headache I have ever had.

Tears spill down my face

I’ve failed

My stomach turns over and over and my face meets the porcelain bowl…. 3 times

Tears spill down my face

I’ve failed

By body aches all over

Tears spill down my face

I’ve failed

My eyes are blurry and it’s hard to see

Tears spill down my face

I’ve failed

I missed work, too sick and upset to go in.

Tears spill down my face

I’ve failed.

It started with left over wine on the counter.  Just sitting there from when we had company.  7 days had gone by and I looked at it everyday.  Poured one glass for myself in the middle of the week thinking it would be ok… but then felt guilty and poured in back in the bottle. (I should have poured it down the drain…. but I didn’t want it gone).

Then on Thursday I gave myself permission to have a glass…. Which was all that was left anyways in the bottle.  I felt confident that this would be ok, since there was no more.  So nothing bad could happen.

The next night while fighting a cold I made the smart choice and I had a tea.

On Saturday after work and after putting my son to bed I feel like staying up and I feel like I JUST WANT TO RELAX.  I JUST WANT TO BE A LITTLE BIT BAD.  I JUST WANT TO EAT SOME CHIPS.  AND I JUST WANT TO HAVE A FEW DRINKS!

Is that so bad?

So I do.

It felt great.  My old friend was back.  My husband and I talked for a long time.  We had great conversation. We laughed.  And I went to bed and slept like a baby.

But Sunday was a bit sluggish.  Not as productive at all compared to all my other Sundays where I have been getting up early and taking the family to church.

No church this Sunday.

Bad choice.

Monday, I feel not so hot.  Tired.  Don’t go to Yoga.

Tuesday bad bad bad day at work.  Feeling very worn down and tired.  Looking forward to going to the movies with my girlfriends. The movie is Girl on a Train.  She is an alcoholic. I feel her.  I relate to her.  I want to have a drink with her and feel each others sorrows.

I come home.

My husband has put our son to bed.  And my mouth is salivating.  I really want a drink.  I am sure my husband has hidden something in our house.  So I ask.  He hesitates.  I ask again more forcefully.  He still hesitates.  I then try and justify why I want a drink.

Just one.

I want to talk.

I’m not feeling well.  Maybe having a drink will help my cold.

I really need to relax.

I’ve been so good.

What harm can it possibly do?


I have 3 very strong drinks.  On a Tuesday night!!!!

I stumble to bed.

I pass out.

Alarm goes off.

My head splits wide open.  My stomach rolls right over.  My mind crashes.





I cannot go to work.  I cannot take my son to school.

My husband does it all. I sleep all day.



What a waste being wasted is.

Being wasted robs you of everything.



Being a mother, being a wife, being a daughter, sister, friend, worker…. You will fail.

My rope unraveled for some reason.  I still don’t know why.  Except that I fooled myself.  I felt like it was ok because I felt stronger.  I felt like I could handle it.  I felt like it wouldn’t happen again.  I felt like if I just got drunk one time it would be okay, because it’s fun… and I need some fun.


The only thing I can say that is positive, if anything at all, is how sick I felt.  Before, a night like this wouldn’t have done as much damage to me.  So I am assuming that my levels of tolerance have for sure gone down.  But it is a FAIL.

But perhaps it is also a LESSON that I need to learn.


My body is not strong enough for this.  My body can’t have this poison.  My body deserves better.

My mind is fragile.  My spirit is fragile. My everyday is fragile.  I need to understand this.  I need to believe it.  I need to stop thinking that I am stronger than I am or I will fail.

In the end perhaps it is better to be fragile and safe.  Than feel strong and abandon yourself.

I need to show up for myself.  I need to be kind to myself.  I need to nourish my mind and soul and body.   Daily.  I need to recommit to myself.

Now I know the outcome.  I tried and failed and that is ok.

Thank God for tomorrows.

I am looking forward to my tomorrow.



Posted in My Relationship with Alcohol

Being Strong is so Hard..


Being strong is hard and tiring.  I knew it would be hard, but feeling so tired, I wasn’t expecting that.  I thought I would be full of energy and ready to grab life by the balls and charge head first into all the great things I have been apparently missing in life.

Not the case.

I feel exhausted all the time.  I am sleeping well, and getting up early and doing all the ‘right’ things …. But I feel so tired.

Is it my mind? Is it because what I am doing is mind over matter?  All I do is think.  I think about not drinking.


The other night, we went out to friends for dinner.  I was nervous because these are my drinking friends.  They all know that they can count on me to bring the booze and drink and have a grand old time.

Before the night even starts I get texted throughout the day with pictures of wine bottles and funny jokes about how they can’t wait to get their wine on with me.  And that all the fixings for Caesars are ready for me….and for me to bring the rye because they know I go hard liquor after dinner…

But when I arrive I come with a veggie platter and flowers and no booze.  Wine is offered and I say “No Thank You”. And I wait for the quizzical looks and the questions to start.

So I chose the TRUTH.

I tell them that I think I have a drinking problem.

At first they laugh, but when they see that I am not laughing and that I am actually quite serious they listen a little harder.  To prove just how serious I am I show them the picture of all the booze I poured down the drain.

Now I have their attention.  And just like my husband, their first reaction is to be mad and to call me a fool for ‘wasting’ all that booze.  So I have to explain to them, as I did with my husband the reasons why it had to be done.

To me it is toxic and poison.  And it has a hold on me.  I didn’t have time to call someone to take it away and honestly, I didn’t want to give it away.  I wanted to GET RID OF IT MY WAY.

Pouring it all down the drain was harder than giving it away.

Pouring it down the drain felt therapeutic.  I felt in control.  I felt I was winning. I felt myself feel fear, but at the same time after each bottle went down the drain I started to feel safer.


Is that weird?  I don’t think so. If alcohol is my enemy, why would I want it in my house.  And why would I give it to my friends. I don’t want it around.


So last night when I showed them the picture of all the bottles my friends believed me, and that was that.  I was glad we didn’t have to get into it anymore.  It can be uncomfortable for others who don’t have a problem to accept when you do.  I did not want to ruin their fun and I don’t think I did.  I was fun and we laughed and laughed.  I actually felt more alive than before and more engaged.  And I was taking in all these new feelings.

The habit and ritual of parties and drinking is very addictive.  There were many times throughout the night when I went to grab my husband’s beer or wine for a sip…. out of habit.  But very quickly stopped myself.  I don’t think anyone noticed.  But the unconscious habit was there and my mind had to kick in quickly to stop myself.

And I think that is why I am tired.

Being strong. Using your mind.  Being engaged.  Feeling every emotion.  Being aware of your surroundings.  Being responsible for your behaviour and having nothing to use as an excuse for bad behaviour or bad choices. Watching your friends drink, and happy for them that they don’t have a problem and wishing you didn’t and could join them.

This is all so tiring.

But as I read about the mind and our spirit and am learning that it is a practice and an exercise that comes over time.  And like anything that is worth something, I am going to have to keep at it and not give up.  I am going to have to know that I will get stronger and stronger every day and by becoming stronger I will become energized.  And that is a day that I am looking forward to greatly!