Blog

How fitting?... The Smith’s How Soon is Now softly plays on the radio of the truck I’m sitting in as I begrudgingly scold myself over and over again for allowing the anxiety in my head to physically affect my stomach in the form of butterflies, knots, or whatever the medical community calls the twisting sensation that creates severe discomfort in one’s gut. I hopelessly attempt to make my brain accept that nothing I do or feel in the cab of this pick up can change the outcome of what happens in the building I’m nervously staring at... Suddenly a FaceTime...

Today we embarked on the next leg of our reproductive journey in the form of IUI. “We.” I HATE saying “WE.” DISCLAIMER: This is a blog post from a husband’s standpoint, so I beg that you forgive a simpleton’s perspective coupled with the obligatory sports analogies I’m undoubtedly going to over use in the next several minutes. That said, when I speak the phrases, “we” started IUI... “We” had a miscarriage... I feel like the water boy on a team that won the Super Bowl. Yeah, I “was there,” but I don’t have any delusions about how much (or little)...

To be clear, it was me. I was the fat kid when I was young. I often found myself in the crosshairs of kids jockeying for position in the inevitable dominance hierarchy that exists in every school on the planet (and I’m no saint. I was one of them)... My response initially was to be devastated and sad. I had ZERO clue about health and fitness. I was an easy target, as my physical appearance was frequently where the first insult would be directed. However, I then became obsessed with never allowing adversaries to best me verbally under any circumstances....

        No. I'm not going on a jungle safari, nor am I taking to the high seas to submerge 20,000 Leagues. However, I've been dedicating time as of late to attempt to gain clarity on my direction in life and enrich myself as an individual in an effort to unpack how best to raise my son. I want to reiterate to him, much like a broken record (to you youngsters, a record is the device that makes the scratchy noises in the rap songs that we all enjoy) the applicable lessons which are not simply rooted in "because...