Afraid of squats

So okay okay, it may seem silly but to me it's completely intimidating...doing squats using the "smith machine". I have always wanted to try it because I do squats at home and love (hate) them but I was always so intimidated. Mostly by my fear of failure or looking stupid but today my husband was trying to push me into it because I've been talking about trying it for a while. So I did and to my surprise I did 5 without any weight but none the less I overcame a gym fear. I overcame fearing what people think of me when I'm at the gym. Because at the end of the day I went, I worked hard, and I didn't give up. 

Although I tried out the machine, I must prefer using free weights to do my squat work out but I think overcoming this fear was so much more than obtaining the skill itself. For me it was all about overcoming my criticism of myself. And every drop of sweat, grunt, burn and ache is so worth the growth I feel in my self esteem and health. 

To all my fellow people on a health journey, keep it up! For me it was the squat machine but for you it may be something else. You may look silly trying but it doesn't matter because you're trying! Don't give up! 

Days of grace

There is an absolutely wonderful 100 day challenge going about social media that urges people to recognize one thing a day that brings them happiness. I am a huge fan of this! We even have a thankful board in our house, to help us stay positive and humble. 

Listening to a cd from international house of prayer many years ago I heard a message about what days really are. There aren't good days. There aren't bad days. They are days of grace. How are we to judge our life and its quality based on one day? We can't. Every day is a day of grace, meaning...every day is a gift. Every day is a chance to accept the love that God has shown me and will always show me. Last week at church I was reminded that God seeks us, everything He has ever done was to show us His love. For me, it's really hard to accept that. I want to categorize and label my day. I want to blame my bad attitude and lack of motivation on a "bad day" but I can't...why? Because it's an excuse, and every day is a day of grace. 

Last night while I was frustrated over how my skin looks (thank you pms and pcos) and how nothing seems to work, and I cried because I'm so mad at spending money on this and feeling so unattractive....I had to stop myself and remind myself, what days really are. 

This morning as I was sobbing because I miss my uncle (10 years ago this month he passed away due to an oxy overdose) and I reflected on the problems my family has with addiction and division, I told myself (with much help of my husband) that this is still a day of grace. 

Even today while walking through target (which seemed to be swamped with babies and pregnant woman) I had to remind myself. This day does not define your happiness. My lack of having a child and wanting to bring life to this earth, is not going to define my happiness. Even as I passed the baby aisle and held back tears, I told myself this is not going to take away from my day of grace. 

So if you happen to follow my Instagram (feliciat6913) or we are friends on Facebook you'll see my #daysofgrace and that's basically my personal every day of thankfulness and happiness and while I post pictures of circumstantial happiness, it reminds me that I have the best reason to be happy and that is because I have accepted the love and grace that is there for everyone, from a loving God. I'm not saying every day is going to be amazingly perfect with bunnies and butterflies and rainbows because it's not unless you're living in the world of Lisa Frank!!! :-) but it can be so much more enJOYable if we allow it to be. 

           Today's day of grace picture. 

Let's talk about $

I don't know how many of you like numbers or math but I would always be the first to tell you I hate it. However, as I get older I've found a new love for numbers. I find extreme joy in crunching numbers when shopping, until I realize I'm spending money on things I don't need. Last year Jayme and I started a fast in attempt to reduce our intake. It's focused on food, clothing, media, and other things. Although we never finished the fast, I'm starting to think it's time to start it over. 

Growing up my family didn't have a whole lot of money. I never went without but we lived pay check to pay check. I was made fun of for the clothes I wore or even the off brand snacks I brought to school. My momma shopped at three different grocery stores and clipped coupons like crazy. My mom made a tiny budget work. 

Back in December when we first moved up to GR when had no money. We spent all our savings on our apartment and since my husband started his job the week the plant got paid and gets paid biweekly, we went three weeks without a check. During that time we had less than $100 for what we needed. Well should have been what we needed. Luckily, my mom was here to help us get groceries for a week with $30 for the three of us. My mom then shared a secret with me, she used to shop for our family of four on $50-100. I was mind blown. I never have appreciated grocery shopping until she told me that. The planning and preparation she did for grocery shopping so that she could utilize what resources we had. We never were on aid or assistance but not because my parents thought they were too good. But because they wanted to earn all they had. They wanted my sister and I to really value money. And unfortunately I can't say that I always have. 

I'll be the first to admit that I tend to be an impulse buyer. It may be because I didn't have a lot of the things I wanted growing up, it could be because it relieves anxiety for me, or it could be because something is just a great deal and I can't pass it up. Either way, I've let my parents hard work and efforts to teach me a lesson go in one ear and out the other. 

As I ask my husband now "can I or can we get this or do this" he says yes. He never tells me no. And while that may seem great, it's bad. Because I've talked so much about what I missed out on as a kid, my sweet hearted husband is trying to make up for that. Little did I know that's the main reason he can't tell me no. 

Today as his face went blank and he just sat there silent on the couch, I knew something was wrong. I crawled from my end of the couch to where he was sitting and just smiled at him. I got nothing in return. So I knew something was up. Tears filled his eyes and I asked what was wrong. Anticipating what always follows that he said it, the dirty, ugly, scary word in our house "money". I felt like a failure as a wife, best friend and partner. I ask and ask and ask. He gives and smiles. I don't realize the toll it takes on him. I never spend without asking him but he never says no. 

So after talking about the differences in us growing up with money and how it was spent/saved etc. We decided that we will have to come up with our own system. One that works for US. I will ask for less and when I feel a "want" coming on, I will put it on a list. He will be more active and say no when the budget can't handle it. We want to tackle any and all debt which isn't much aside from student loans. We want to build a foundation where money is saved, but not worshipped. We want to build a foundation on fulfilling needs and getting to the wants when we can. 

As our convo ended I looked up at my husband and looked into his eyes and said "That happy wife, happy life stuff is crap. It's about a happy us. Because part of my happiness is seeing you happy and where you need to be. It isn't about my materialistic wants." I haven't seen my husband smile that big in a while, as I watched that smile brighten up his eyes, I noticed a sense of relief and peace come across him. 

It was so cool to bring Jayme to my world today. We walked through Aldi and he was amazed at the prices. We went to meijer afterwards and compared prices on what we got (basically a fun scavenger hunt) and we found that what we got for $20 at Aldi, we would've paid $37 for at meijer. It made me smile and feel nostalgic and more thankful for my mom's preparation and my dad's hard work, more than ever in my life. 

Change

I have come to the conclusion that I see change from a very different view than many. I have learned to embrace change and to freely blow where its winds take me. I wasn't always such a friend or fan of change. Like many I feared it. I ran from it. And I avoided it at all costs. However, as I've gotten older I've realized this beautiful life I live would be in shambles if it weren't for change. 

To many, change is death or an end to something they are comfortable with. And while I agree that change can be overwhelming because it can strip us of what we know, and may take for granted, it makes you do what you never said you would. Change can bring out colors we hate in ourselves and in others. But that's the point of change, growth. Change can also bring out the most beautiful parts of our soul, if we let it. 

For me, change means life and growth (picture a green thumb). Change represents sobriety from substance abuse. Change shows recovery from a horribly dark and abuse filled childhood. But most importantly, change represents breaking the cycle. And to me, change has saved my life not only in this world but with my relationship with God. I had to change. Die to myself. Change is such a scary subject. It often causes people in power to oppress other people. But, what if the oppression starts with us?What if, we can start with ourselves and make the changes we have feared for far too long? I learned for myself that change means I don't have to be a captive to depression, anger, and feeling worthless. 

I am not claiming that change is easy but if it were, we wouldn't fear it. Change is a beautiful journey. Much like our lives. And change creates the beautiful twists and turns in our stories. Sometimes painful but sometimes bright and joyful. Don't be afraid to travel a path unknown. Don't be afraid to go for it. Don't hold back. Share your story. 

How would you like your eggs?

Ovulated!!! Haha sorry for the corny humor, one way I deal with my stubborn ovaries is to joke about it from time to time. I pulled this one on the hubs and he  was cracking up. Then immediately realized what I said and tried to console me while I was still laughing. If you're like me, don't feel bad for laughing at what's going on. And no I don't make jokes because I'm in denial. I am just a corny person who loves to laugh. Even if I have to make myself laugh. Also, don't be surprised if your loved ones try to scold you for joking, they're just worried and care about you! Like my husband :) 

Today I read a wonderful article that talked about the jealousy of women who have fertility problems. And I have to be honest and admit that I have felt and thought many of the same thoughts but I also have found some understanding and peace. Although, back in October when I found out I have pcos and having children would pose as a difficult journey, I did not have a bright positive attitude. Even now some days it's really a struggle. 

It hurt me that many women I knew who were pregnant and or have kids would complain. There I was sitting here crying from the moment I woke up, to the moment I went to bed. I longed for their complaints. I longed to actually be pregnant, I mean why not my pcos symptoms reflect pregnancy symptoms. It wasn't fair that I was experiencing so many of those "early pregnancy joys" but had no fetus growing inside of me to make those symptoms joyful and not painful. 

That's when I started to examine my situation. While I had no children and have physical pain and embarrassing endocrine probs, I had time to spend with just my husband. On the days I had energy, I got to spend my energy doing what I want. On the days I had an appetite, I could eat what I want (for the most part). On the days I could actually sleep, my kind husband would let me. I didn't and couldn't understand the frustrations of a tired, overworked, sacrificing mom because well I am not one. Yes, I've taken care of many people in my life. Especially my momma. But still, she's not my child. She's someone I love and care for yes but still she isn't dependent upon my every decision. My choices don't dictate how her life will turn out. 

That's when I started to try to step back and appreciate those things I saw women complaining about. Yes I wanted to scream and yell at them, "Hey at least you haven't had to deal infertility, miscarriage, etc." But I stopped myself because they still had a journey to bringing life to their child. And I firmly believe every journey is a story that's worth being told. In the end, almost all of the women I've seen complain about pregnancy have later on turned around and said how grateful they were for those things during motherhood. And when their children have grown up to have their own kids, I've  watched them console their children when they are the ones traveling the journey to motherhood. 

I've come to terms with what I have. And while I hear many miracle baby stories (my husband and I both are) I admire them but I don't build my hopes on THAT. I build my hopes on the love I receive from my God and my husband. No matter how my ovaries function. No matter if I can bring life to this earth the "natural way". The way I see it is, what if my husband and I are meant to adopt kiddos that are already here in dire need if love, affection, attention and time? What if we SAVE lives? What if instead of me burning through my energy and mental capacity, I spend those things on saving lives here?

Now, I'm not saying I give up on carrying and birthing children. But what I'm saying is that while I admire and cherish the stories of all of the women who had babies when they thought or were told they couldn't, I also admire the stories of those who let God close that door and open another. I admire the strength and bravery of all women but lately instead of seeing pregnant women and crying/being bitter and getting way too emotional, I have connected with them in a way that says "their birth experience is one of a kind." How can I miss out on someone else's experience? In the end every woman that I've talked to has told me a different story about their labor and birth. The details of the process may be similar but they see it differently. They've all chosen different names, different ways to celebrate the babies birth, different decorations etc. This experience is unique to each individual. They are the only ones who can know and understand fully how they feel and sometimes they can't even put it into words because they're so overwhelmed. 

And then I realize, I'm not that different from them and there's no reason for me to be jealous. I am overwhelmed too but by the fears of failing to get pregnant. To be good to the life that's already here on this earth. To be strong and courageous and have it all in order. But the harsh reality is that life doesn't come with a handbook. We have to take it day by day, and realize each day is a day of grace. Lately, I feel such a strong pull towards adoption and although my husband and I are in no place to yet be adopting, I feel such joy, emotion, love and gratitude for those who adopt and have been adopted. I know that not every child adopted has a good experience but neither does every child born and raised by their biological family. 

So part of me gets annoyed when people say they hope I can get pregnant and have my own child. Because if that's not God's plan for me, I don't want it. I want to be where He is. And while He knows the desires of my heart, I am not so sure that I always do.  I choose to instead believe He will bring us lives to change, grow and impact. And for me, that's all I want. While some days I get sad and long to feel and experience pregnancy, I know that I need to just be still, soak in where I am now and keep praying. 

I'm so thankful for the women who have shared their fertility struggle with me. It blesses my heart, their consideration towards me and understanding. Their vulnerability and bravery. It's scary to be a women who faces the possibility of not being able to provide children. Society makes it incredibly pressuring. I'm so blessed that my fertility situation has connected me to others. To tell them about my faith and to tell them that they matter. Thank you to all of you who have been incredibly vulnerable to me and to those who have been incredibly sensitive. Especially the women who have children. You have no idea how much your words mean. How much your consideration and kindness means. I'm not asking that you walk around on egg shells around me or any other women in my situation but the love/support/encouragement  I've been shown by these mommas is amazing. 

Also, I apologize to all mommas that I have envied and not appreciating your journey. I hope that one day there will be more appreciation between and forboth  journeys. That motherhood wouldn't separate and label women. Keep up the hard work Moms! 

Refreshed

 Since my last post, I have been a vulnerable soul. Every little opportunity of sharing love I get, I take. It's like something new has awakened within me. It took a dark night, and breaking to really be able to rise the next morning with joy and light. I have literally been lit up like a fire in a desert. I feel so bright that sometimes I may hurt others eyes and maybe to some it's comforting. ALL I KNOW...is that I finally, for the first time in months, I have been refreshed...like that web page that won't load when you're trying to buy concert tickets that are selling out fast! Or like refreshing the page to hope for a grade update (I was a nerd who did this constantly). I was so stagnant...waiting...waiting...impatient...hurting. 

 

 Although we are to be patient because that is what love is, I don't think that is an excuse to be complacent. My husband constantly tells me, "You're so extraordinary...don't you remember telling me that you felt God had plans for you, big plans because you felt that HE told you you're extraordinary. Felicia Dawn, you are."

How many people are that blessed to have a reminder, every day, sometimes multiple times a day? My relationship with God keeps me sane. It makes me happier. I feel more alive. I love OTHERS more. I find purpose. My dad constantly was telling me through this time of my depression, "You're young, find what you love and do it, who cares what you have a degree in." But what he didn't understand is that I was so far from focusing on what I love, because it didn't measure up to others. I was SO caught up on seeing the extraordinary lives that others are leading, that I forgot I have one too! We all do. And in the midst of being so lost, I truly thought I had lost my purpose...but I only lost my sight of my purpose. There is SUCH a huge difference between the two. 

 I'm always saying that we are all just simple people on a journey, with stories worth telling, hearing, reading...

I forgot that the same could be said about me...

All I can advise, is to NOT ever EVER forget, you're worth it. You are a soul, encased in a beautiful display of physical matter. You take up space, because you matter. You're here because you matter. Think about your life and how you grew up...how will that forever impact your relationships, and those people you have relationships with. How will your story impact lives you may never know of. Life is so intricate, yet simple and at times, the biggest contradiction but what I know is that it is so amazingly, breathtakingly, beautiful if you just open your eyes and step into the light. It may be hard, it may hurt, but people are waiting to hear from you. 

 So while I fill out what seems like millions of job applications, I remember no matter the outcome I can still give glory where it is due. I can still walk a joyful journey. I just want to help others. That's all. 

Also, I LITERALLY forgot that valentine's day is this week, maybe because my husband and I never usually celebrate it...but I have to tell an AWESOME story real quick....If any of you know me, you may have realized I'm sort of an "old soul" which my husband always tell me and jokes that I'm old, "You should've been born in the pioneer days or something." He's funny. But I have a deep passion for anything "old". I mean, my favorite movie is Gone With the Wind. As he was talking to a bunch of the guys at work they were haggling him about valentine's day and that he *needed* to get his wife something. His response makes me so proud "Well we don't celebrate it. She's not really into it." They told him, "Well you best get her something because she will complain if you don't even if 'she doesn't like it'" My husband then described me perfectly to his coworkers, "Well actually she hates holiday chocolate, she doesn't like roses and she would much rather have surprise flowers on any other day when she wouldn't expect them." They then looked at him funny and said "What is she, some traditional lady?". My adorable husband "Yes, she was meant to be born in the 1940s."

And THAT ladies and gents, is why he is my favorite person in the world =] ha, in all seriousness I hope you find love this season within yourself first and foremost. Then give that love to the world, romantic or not. I hope you know, you're cherished and important, regardless of your relationship status. 

I get by with a little (a lot) of help...

Seeing the title I'm already showing that I can't get through things totally on my own. I'm constantly needing help. And I know at times, some things I have to do just God and me. But that's just it...God. Not me. However, I'm human and I need some prayers and help from those who pray. 

I'm so frustrated with my body. I am embarrassed and ashamed. I am sick of being sick. Sick of everything I try ending back at square one. Putting my weight back on. Causing my stomach pain and problems. Painful acne. Painful joints.  Not sleeping normally. I am sick of hurting. Depression and anxiety.  I am so so so overwhelmed with defeat. But my God is bigger and greater. 

I just really need some prayer warriors. Even right now as I'm typing this out on my phone, ironically my pandora is playing every single worship song that always brings me to tears and complete intimate vulnerability with my Savior. That's how awesome He is. And I fervently believe in who He is and I believe that my God who created me can bring me peace and restoration. Sometimes I think though, we need our brothers and sisters in Christ to raise us up continually. It gets harder every day, continually crying out. But I shall be earnest and faithful. 

"Everlasting, Your light will shine when all else fades. Never ending, Your glory goes beyond all fame. And the cry of my heart is to bring You praise, from the inside out. Oh my soul, cries out."

"Lord, I need You. Oh, I need You. Every hour I need You. My one defense. My righteousness oh God how I need You. When I cannot stand I'll fall on You."