It has been far too long since I've written anything. There are so many things that God has done for me that I haven't had the opportunity to share with you, so I'm going to take the opportunity to play a little catch up now. This will probably make for a super long post, but bear with me- it will be worth it.
The first testimony I want to share is just a quick one about Cooper. I think I've mentioned my rascally, but lovable pooch on here before. But in case I'm remembering in correctly or in case this is your first time here, let me tell you a little bit about Cooper. We got Cooper as a rescue puppy from our local shelter the month before we got married. He's part husky and all mischief. I think within the first couple months we quickly realized he gets super traumatized whenever we try and contain him. We've had him escape from plastic dog carries (chewed his way out), metal dog crates (bent the metal on the bottom of the door enough to get out), our work room (clawed and chewed through a 2 in. solid core door), our work room again (clawed through the replacement solid core door which we had reinforced with a piece of sheet metal). Cooper does not like being cooped up. The other thing we quickly learned is that Cooper loves to run. And given that nothing seems to be able to contain him, he is able to escape pretty easily when he wants too. He is an opportunist and never misses a chance to get out when he wants to. Just recently Cooper started acting up a bit. He started clawing at our basement door to get down to where my mom is staying. He started standing by the front windows just whining. I could tell he was itching to get out again. I tried keeping him outside a little longer than usual, letting him play and run a little longer, hoping it would help quench his desire to escape. Needless to say, it did not and one day a couple weeks ago, I heard him pawing at the front windows. It took a little too long to dawn on me what he was doing, and even longer to remember that the windows were open.
By the time I got out to the front room, he was gone. He had clawed a hole through the screen and jumped out the window. I was home alone with O, so I quickly got her in a jacket, grabbed a leash and a treat and ran out to the car to try and find Cooper. I explained to O that Cooper ran away and that I would roll down her window and let her call to him. O, being three, thought this was all great fun. I, however, was less convinced. As we were getting ready to pull out of our driveway, I notice one of the neighbor kids approaching our van. He asked me if that was our dog that was out. I replied that it was. He told me that he and his mom had tried to catch him, but that he had ended up running from them and gave me the direction he went. I thanked him profusely, since knowing which direction he went is half the battle, and continued to pull out of the driveway.
Before I even finished backing out, O turns to me and says, "Mama, did Cooper get out?" "Yes, baby, we're gonna go look for him though." "We didn't say a prayer." I stopped backing up and turned around and looked at her, grateful for this tiny little person who is constantly reminding me of what's really important in life. "You're right, sweets, we didn't. Would you say one please? Ask God that we will find Cooper soon and that He will keep Cooper safe." (It's my biggest fear that Cooper's going to get out one of these days and run straight into traffic and get hit.) So Olivia began to pray and I began to drive in the direction that the Neighbor Boy had indicated. Sure enough, before O had even finished her prayer, I heard the jingle of Cooper's tags. As soon as she said "Amen" I pulled over to get out and get him, but as it turns out that was unnecessary. I pulled over and opened the door and he hopped right in. I didn't have to chase him, I didn't have to coax him with the treat, he just jumped right in the car. It was by far the easiest time I have ever had chasing Cooper down, and I know that it was because of that sweet little girl who had reminded me that we needed to stop and pray.
The next testimony is a little longer and a little more personal. I mentioned last September about some issues I was having with ovulating on my own. The issues resolved for awhile and then for whatever reason, I began to have troubles ovulating on my own again. Unfortunately, the doctor I had been seeing moved to a different state, so I had to start all over with a new doctor. I hate getting new doctors. So, I put it off for awhile, and eventually, around July I bit the bullet, chose a new doctor and went in for my yearly woman's visit.
At my visit, I expressed my concerns to the doctor and he pretty much said what my other doctor did. He couldn't really understand why that would be happening and, yay, ordered more blood work. He told me to come in on the 21 day of my cycle for the blood work, which would let us know whether or not I ovulated, and then if I hadn't started by cycle day 35 to come in and see him, because I would need to be put on meds to, at the very least, start my cycle and most likely, fertility meds.
As day 35 got closer and closer, I got more and more worried that I would have to take fertility meds. I couldn't explain why I didn't want to take them and had never had such a strong aversion to taking medicine before in my life. All I knew is it was not a thing I was looking forward to. Caleb, bless his heart, knew this and offered to go with me to my appointment. Day 35 rolled around and we went to the Doctor. I was a mess. My stomach was roiling, I was sure that I was going to have to take the meds. We got called back to see the doctor, I left my urine sample with the nurse, and we began the wait to see the doctor.
About ten minutes later, the nurse came back in. She started taking my vitals and making small talk. As she was recording my heart rate and blood pressure, she looks at me and asks, "And you already took the Clomid, right?" I looked at her and shook my head. "No, that's why we were supposed to come in today. The Doctor said we'd discuss it today." She smiled and held something out to me. "I misunderstood. I thought you had already taken the Clomid, so I did this." I looked at what she was handing me and realization dawned. I was speechless as I handed the positive pregnancy test to Caleb. "I'll give you all a moment to process this," the nurse said and stepped out of the room. Needless to say, there were lots of tears and hugs and prayers of thanksgiving said in that doctor's office.
I look back on it all, and I am so grateful for the journey we took to get where we are today. I have learned so much. I learned compassion and empathy for those women that desperately want babies and struggle so much to have one, I learned patience, and I learned (most days) to let what I had be enough, to be content with the blessings God had given and not be sad and depressed because I felt like they weren't enough. And I'm even grateful for the struggles we had, because if I hadn't been having problems with my cycle, if fertility meds hadn't been imminent, Caleb wouldn't have been there when I found out I was pregnant, and I can't think of a more perfect way for us to have found out than as a family. O is over the moon and waiting for baby to get here. She's convinced the baby is a girl and already calls her Sissy. Here's hoping she's not heart broken if the baby comes and it's a boy. ;)
Now, finally, an announcement. If you've stuck with me this far, bless you. You're a trooper. I promise it's not much longer now.
When I was a little girl, my grandma crocheted beautiful afghans for all her grandkids. She let us pick out the yarn ourselves. I remember going to the store with her and feeling so special as I perused the rows and rows of beautifully colored yarns. After I picked my yarn, I remember being so amazed watching her as she took this yarn and turned it into a blanket. It was magical. One day, I asked her if she would teach me. She did, and I fell in love. Over time however, I became so busy with school and sports that my crocheting fell by the wayside. A few years ago, with the help of youtube, I rekindled my love of crochet. I loved crocheting out at my grandma's house, though she had long since stopped crocheting and now that she has passed, it's something that helps ease the loneliness a bit when I miss her.
I have thought for awhile, that I might want to start selling some of the things that I make. I just always came up with a good excuse not to do it. However, a couple months ago, I decided it was time. No more stalling, no more excuses. So, on that note, I invite you to check out my Etsy shop, BethelBoutique, which you can visit by clicking the Bethel Boutique tab above. It will open the link to my shop in another tab. Right now, the pickin's are kinda slim, but I'm planning on adding more items in the next couple weeks or so. I'm also hoping to find a way to sell directly through the website, so keep your eyes open for that as well. If you have questions about the items I sell, or would like to talk to me about ordering something please email my business at [email protected].
Whew! You made it! This is finally the end. Thank you again for reading!
The first testimony I want to share is just a quick one about Cooper. I think I've mentioned my rascally, but lovable pooch on here before. But in case I'm remembering in correctly or in case this is your first time here, let me tell you a little bit about Cooper. We got Cooper as a rescue puppy from our local shelter the month before we got married. He's part husky and all mischief. I think within the first couple months we quickly realized he gets super traumatized whenever we try and contain him. We've had him escape from plastic dog carries (chewed his way out), metal dog crates (bent the metal on the bottom of the door enough to get out), our work room (clawed and chewed through a 2 in. solid core door), our work room again (clawed through the replacement solid core door which we had reinforced with a piece of sheet metal). Cooper does not like being cooped up. The other thing we quickly learned is that Cooper loves to run. And given that nothing seems to be able to contain him, he is able to escape pretty easily when he wants too. He is an opportunist and never misses a chance to get out when he wants to. Just recently Cooper started acting up a bit. He started clawing at our basement door to get down to where my mom is staying. He started standing by the front windows just whining. I could tell he was itching to get out again. I tried keeping him outside a little longer than usual, letting him play and run a little longer, hoping it would help quench his desire to escape. Needless to say, it did not and one day a couple weeks ago, I heard him pawing at the front windows. It took a little too long to dawn on me what he was doing, and even longer to remember that the windows were open.
By the time I got out to the front room, he was gone. He had clawed a hole through the screen and jumped out the window. I was home alone with O, so I quickly got her in a jacket, grabbed a leash and a treat and ran out to the car to try and find Cooper. I explained to O that Cooper ran away and that I would roll down her window and let her call to him. O, being three, thought this was all great fun. I, however, was less convinced. As we were getting ready to pull out of our driveway, I notice one of the neighbor kids approaching our van. He asked me if that was our dog that was out. I replied that it was. He told me that he and his mom had tried to catch him, but that he had ended up running from them and gave me the direction he went. I thanked him profusely, since knowing which direction he went is half the battle, and continued to pull out of the driveway.
Before I even finished backing out, O turns to me and says, "Mama, did Cooper get out?" "Yes, baby, we're gonna go look for him though." "We didn't say a prayer." I stopped backing up and turned around and looked at her, grateful for this tiny little person who is constantly reminding me of what's really important in life. "You're right, sweets, we didn't. Would you say one please? Ask God that we will find Cooper soon and that He will keep Cooper safe." (It's my biggest fear that Cooper's going to get out one of these days and run straight into traffic and get hit.) So Olivia began to pray and I began to drive in the direction that the Neighbor Boy had indicated. Sure enough, before O had even finished her prayer, I heard the jingle of Cooper's tags. As soon as she said "Amen" I pulled over to get out and get him, but as it turns out that was unnecessary. I pulled over and opened the door and he hopped right in. I didn't have to chase him, I didn't have to coax him with the treat, he just jumped right in the car. It was by far the easiest time I have ever had chasing Cooper down, and I know that it was because of that sweet little girl who had reminded me that we needed to stop and pray.
The next testimony is a little longer and a little more personal. I mentioned last September about some issues I was having with ovulating on my own. The issues resolved for awhile and then for whatever reason, I began to have troubles ovulating on my own again. Unfortunately, the doctor I had been seeing moved to a different state, so I had to start all over with a new doctor. I hate getting new doctors. So, I put it off for awhile, and eventually, around July I bit the bullet, chose a new doctor and went in for my yearly woman's visit.
At my visit, I expressed my concerns to the doctor and he pretty much said what my other doctor did. He couldn't really understand why that would be happening and, yay, ordered more blood work. He told me to come in on the 21 day of my cycle for the blood work, which would let us know whether or not I ovulated, and then if I hadn't started by cycle day 35 to come in and see him, because I would need to be put on meds to, at the very least, start my cycle and most likely, fertility meds.
As day 35 got closer and closer, I got more and more worried that I would have to take fertility meds. I couldn't explain why I didn't want to take them and had never had such a strong aversion to taking medicine before in my life. All I knew is it was not a thing I was looking forward to. Caleb, bless his heart, knew this and offered to go with me to my appointment. Day 35 rolled around and we went to the Doctor. I was a mess. My stomach was roiling, I was sure that I was going to have to take the meds. We got called back to see the doctor, I left my urine sample with the nurse, and we began the wait to see the doctor.
About ten minutes later, the nurse came back in. She started taking my vitals and making small talk. As she was recording my heart rate and blood pressure, she looks at me and asks, "And you already took the Clomid, right?" I looked at her and shook my head. "No, that's why we were supposed to come in today. The Doctor said we'd discuss it today." She smiled and held something out to me. "I misunderstood. I thought you had already taken the Clomid, so I did this." I looked at what she was handing me and realization dawned. I was speechless as I handed the positive pregnancy test to Caleb. "I'll give you all a moment to process this," the nurse said and stepped out of the room. Needless to say, there were lots of tears and hugs and prayers of thanksgiving said in that doctor's office.
I look back on it all, and I am so grateful for the journey we took to get where we are today. I have learned so much. I learned compassion and empathy for those women that desperately want babies and struggle so much to have one, I learned patience, and I learned (most days) to let what I had be enough, to be content with the blessings God had given and not be sad and depressed because I felt like they weren't enough. And I'm even grateful for the struggles we had, because if I hadn't been having problems with my cycle, if fertility meds hadn't been imminent, Caleb wouldn't have been there when I found out I was pregnant, and I can't think of a more perfect way for us to have found out than as a family. O is over the moon and waiting for baby to get here. She's convinced the baby is a girl and already calls her Sissy. Here's hoping she's not heart broken if the baby comes and it's a boy. ;)
Now, finally, an announcement. If you've stuck with me this far, bless you. You're a trooper. I promise it's not much longer now.
When I was a little girl, my grandma crocheted beautiful afghans for all her grandkids. She let us pick out the yarn ourselves. I remember going to the store with her and feeling so special as I perused the rows and rows of beautifully colored yarns. After I picked my yarn, I remember being so amazed watching her as she took this yarn and turned it into a blanket. It was magical. One day, I asked her if she would teach me. She did, and I fell in love. Over time however, I became so busy with school and sports that my crocheting fell by the wayside. A few years ago, with the help of youtube, I rekindled my love of crochet. I loved crocheting out at my grandma's house, though she had long since stopped crocheting and now that she has passed, it's something that helps ease the loneliness a bit when I miss her.
I have thought for awhile, that I might want to start selling some of the things that I make. I just always came up with a good excuse not to do it. However, a couple months ago, I decided it was time. No more stalling, no more excuses. So, on that note, I invite you to check out my Etsy shop, BethelBoutique, which you can visit by clicking the Bethel Boutique tab above. It will open the link to my shop in another tab. Right now, the pickin's are kinda slim, but I'm planning on adding more items in the next couple weeks or so. I'm also hoping to find a way to sell directly through the website, so keep your eyes open for that as well. If you have questions about the items I sell, or would like to talk to me about ordering something please email my business at [email protected].
Whew! You made it! This is finally the end. Thank you again for reading!
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