Pump It Up! Pump It Out!

It's been a very long time since my last entry. There have been many days that I thought to myself, "Hey, you need to start blogging again", but I allowed the redundancy of my days to wear me down, using work, pregnancy, and family as my excuses not to write. Don't get me wrong, I was extremely tired and anyone would be quick to tell you that I probably over did it on many occasions. However, writing about this journey I've been on helps me to stay accountable for my actions when it comes to eating well and staying physically active. There were times (more often than I care to admit) that I fell short with my eating habits, more so toward the end of my pregnancy. None of the eating offenses were anything to really be ashamed about.Yet, I did feel twinges of guilt when I ate more than my fair share of pizza or ice cream in one sitting, even though those around me tried to convince me it was my God-given right as a pregnant woman to eat whatever the hell I liked. I was still trying to work out, getting in weight sessions, pool time and slowly jogging up until about 37 weeks. I even completed a 5K with my coworkers for a charity run, and they were impressed that at 9 months pregnant I dared to hit the pavement. The following week, I decided it was best to start walking.

last 5k

Baby Shower in June

I worked full time fulfilling my physical therapist duties until June 27, 2014,the day before I had my second prince, Thaddeus. He was three days overdue! I probably would have kept working until he eventually fell out. I had a very good pregnancy and birth experience, for the most part, which I attribute to staying physically active. I was able to have a vaginal birth this time around, which many doctors don't like to attempt after a woman has had a cesarean birth. I did gain much more weight than I wanted to. I can't blame Thaddeus. He only made up about 5lbs and 13 oz of the weight I gained. A lot of the weight was fluid, because I did swell up a lot toward the end of the nearly 10 months of pregnancy. I also had something going on with my liver, brought about by the pregnancy. The liver complication prompted the doctor to get the ball rolling with my labor( which is an adventure I will share with you all at another time). However, I would say about 15% of the weight I gained was due to unhealthy habits. The evidence would become clearer after I had the baby, when all the swelling quickly disappeared and my stomach dwindled down, thankfully due to one of the great benefits of breast feeding. Now, you're probably going to think I'm crazy, but right now I have sort of this love/hate relationship with my post pregnancy body. The pluses: 1. I am much smaller post pregnancy this time around than I was with my first baby. 2. I am quite proud of my milky boobs. Not only are they fuller, but they allow my child to sustain life, and I am amazed that I am capable of lactating. 3. I didn't gain any more stretch marks than I did the first pregnancy. The minuses: 1. My muffin top is back. 2. I gained weight in my arms, and my arms were my pride and joy this time last year. 3. There are only two pairs of pants I can fit right now( thank God for maxi-dresses and support garments)/mP8j6Mon9qI/s320/baby+004.jpg" />

HOLY CRAP!!!

Well, when I first found out I was pregnant again back in December, I had every intention of regularly blogging about my experience with this pregnancy while trying to stay in the best shape as possible. No, really I did, lol.

But, life as always, has gotten in the way. I am beating myself up for not chronicling this pregnancy experience as much as I should have, and trust me it has been quite an experience. Let me say that currently I am about 25 weeks and 3 days. For the most part, physically, I feel pretty good. I have been able to continue with my workout routine, though modified, about 4 days a week. I manage to squeeze in short run/walks in between getting off work and picking my son up from After-school care, and I try to go to the gym to do my free weight routine twice a week. I get very upset when I don't leave work on time because it messes up my whole workout regimen. Although I can take my son to the gym with me, he is now in kindergarten and once I pick him up, I like to go home immediately so we can work on his homework (he doesn't have much, but I create work for him because I want him to be successful), get him fed and in the bed at a decent time. I don't want my work out routine to take away from the precious few hours I have with him in a day. I am still leading my small Sunday run group, though I'm more like leading from the back of the pack these days.I am sooooo slow, which was to be expected. I'm walking more than running, but I discovered I am a pretty good speed walker. However, I had no idea this new little booger would slow me down so much so early on. Things in general, are going rather smooth with this pregnancy. Everyday I thank God for every little squirm or kick. I feel sooo blessed!

Well...let me tell you what I was not prepared for, or more like what I forgot about since my last full term pregnancy, nearly seven years ago. Sorry if this is TMI for some folks!

1. I forgot that I would NEVER find a comfortable position to sleep in, hence why I basically fall into a coma the moment I put my son down for bed. I am used to operating on 4-6 hours of sleep, but my sleep is very sporadic and it drives me CRAAZY!!! Driving 30 minutes to work is a nightmare, because I am so groggy. I toss and turn every night, which has been sooo much fun for my husband, too!

2. I don't feel like I have that motherly glow at all this time! I just feel greasy! I'm a few years older this time and my skin has drastically changed. My skin was never flawless, but at the beginning of this pregnancy, I broke out horribly! My regular skin routine was not working anymore. Finally, I think I have found a solution to controlling my breakouts (shouts out to the people that make Black Soap and Astringent). I'm not having nearly as many pimples since I started using the new products.

3. Glorious hair this time...eh, not so much! At the beginning, my hair was so friggin dry, no matter how much I conditioned it. With David, my hair was so healthy, shiny and thick from the beginning, it didn't even shed after I had him. Finally, it is starting to grow how I want it to. I am considering trying hair extensions towards the end, so I can have fabulous post-partum pics. This time I will have a better photographer (Sorry mom, but the pictures of me breastfeeding after birth were not very flattering!)

4. ALL I DO IS PEE! When you're pregnant, you just don't walk to the bathroom anymore, you dart in your fastest waddle. The bathrooms at work are few and far between, and I will claw your eyes out it you dare beat me to the toilet and you saw me struggling down the hall. It's especially fun when you're outside in the middle of a run, and oops, there is no bathroom available. My darling son's favorite hang out is right on my bladder. Twice, I have gotten into very compromising situations outdoors. Let's just say I'm so glad North Carolina has a lot of trees!

5. I'm not just all bump...I'm a whole lot of boobs and hips now too! I was already overweight when I had my last son. This time I started off much smaller, but it seems like I grew out of my regular clothes and undergarments much faster. This is frustrating for a naturally curvy girl. I can't just walk into a store and pick something out and leave. Some things are too wide in the hips but not enough thigh room, or vice versa. And just because they put that ginormous expandable band around maternity pants does not make them "One Size Fits All". Trying on maternity clothes turns into an all day affair because for one, I get short of breath taking off and putting on clothes, and two, I ALWAYS HAVE TO PEE!

6. I had no idea how quickly I would lose the muscle I gained. With David, I had no muscle at all, so I didn't care. But I had worked so hard to get toned prior to getting pregnant again. Even though I am still doing light weights, I have lost some definition. I keep telling myself, I WILL GET MY ANGELA BASSETT ARMS BACK, and my booty too, for that matter!

7. SMELLS! Particularly my husband's. Last pregnancy, I hated his smell, this time I can't get enough of it, go figure! Oh, and when you work in a hospital, smells are your enemy! Enough said...

8. EMOTIONS...I was already an emotional person anyway, now I feel extremely emotional, more so than the last pregnancy. I do have to remember, A LOT has happened to me over the last 2-3 years that would send even a non-pregnant person into an emotional breakdown. I can't tell you enough, how much I miss my dad or still wonder about the baby I lost. There are times tears will fall, and I don't know why. But, I allow myself one good cry a day, and I keep on pushing! I am also a bit more sarcastic and feisty, so I have to keep my attitude in check before I get myself in trouble!

9. My doctor is getting on my nerves! LOL...nooo, I really love him, but if he tells me I am gaining too much weight one more time...I don't know what else to do. I do give in to the occasional craving, but for the most part I still eat pretty well and I am still active. I just gain weight fast, DARN IT! Curse that stupid scale! I am just grateful that I am still under 200 lbs this time around. Last time I went up to 250...never again!

10. Did I mention, I love being pregnant? There are so many crazy things that are happening inside of my body right now. I'm sleepy, cranky, fat, greasy, and slow, but I'm really loving it all. This will most likely be my last pregnancy. I'm not one of those crazy people that will try and try until I have a little girl. I've accepted my fate, that I am going to be the mother of two boys, and I actually kinda like that I'm going to be Queen B of the household. My husband thinks I'm spoiled anyway, and I couldn't handle another female taking all my attention away! lol

BUT HOLY CRAP!!! What type of car seat should I get? You mean, I can't just strap him down in the back with duck tape? Diapers? I forgot how to change the kid! You mean I have to actually feed it, it can't feed itself? Up every two hours? I ain't ready for that! Baby Shower vs Baby Sprinkle? What the what? Tune in guys, the next few months are going to be very interesting...

New Life

This was my 2013 in a nutshell: Celebrated two unions under God, sent my son off to Kindergarten, laid my dad to rest, had a miscarriage the same week I buried my dad, found out I was pregnant again!

RECORD SCRATCHES! BIRDS FALL OUT OF THE SKY! THE ROCK RAISES AN EYEBROW! SAY WHAT?!!!

2013 Has been probably the most pivotal year of all my 32 years on Earth to say the least. Of course there were some things I would rather not have happened, but I know that everything happens for a reason that only God initially knows the outcome to, and the best and only thing to do is accept the things you cannot change and pray your way through these changes.

Let's talk about this kid for a minute. I was recently talking to a friend who asked me if I was going to do this big announcement on Facebook about my pregnancy, like many exuberant mothers do. At first, I was very afraid to do this. As I said, I just recently lost a baby, and I also witnessed other women that I work with lose their babies close to term and it was heartbreaking to watch them go through this kind of pain. This pregnancy was reminiscent of my first, having conceived my son after the lost of my beloved Grandfather. The Circle of Life is real, ya'll! The fact that I got pregnant so soon after the miscarriage continues to be a mystery to me. When I went to the doctor, I thought I was only 8 weeks along. Whoa to my surprise, I was actually 11 weeks! I nearly had a full grown kid in there and didn't even know it! So today, as I was lying in bed just thinking and crying and praying as I tend to do with my emotional self these days, I decided that this is my joy to share! I don't know what the outcome will be, but right now there is an actual life growing inside me. How do I know? Well, at the time I am writing this I am currently approaching 15 weeks of pregnancy. I can actual feel my baby! I know some of you might think I'm crazy, that it's too early. However, I've been through this experience before. I can distinctly remember the difference between gas and flutters, and these miracle moments started for me at 13 weeks. They get stronger and more frequent with each day. The movements were especially strong when I recently went to the Charlie Wilson concert, lol. I don't know if my baby was jammin' in there or scared to death, but something was definitely stirring in my womb.

I'll tell you one thing, this pregnancy is definitely different. Thankfully, I haven't had any bad episodes of morning sickness but I am sooooo tired these days and not extremely motivated. This scares me, as I have already gained ten pounds and my eating habits have been less than healthy. I allowed myself Christmas week to take a hiatus from all things healthy. I'm not sure if this was the right thing to do, but instead of falling into the severe guilt trip over eating stuff I know I shouldn't be eating, I decided to spare myself some of the grief and deal with the consequences later. I've been in a little funk over the holidays, and I won't deny that I've used a few holiday treats to de-stress. However, the damage is not nearly as severe as it could have been. I could be that mom who makes excuses for eating everything in sight, and say I'm eating for two, but the fact is I have been eating to satisfy my own carnal desires. I'm working my way through this time because I have surrounded myself with too many positive people to get into a deep funk. My husband has been very patient with me even though I've flipped on him several times (it can only get better the next 6 months or so, right?)My son has been extremely sweet and is so excited to be a big brother (he's told his whole class, smh) My parents and friends have been very supportive, and they push me to rest, even though I feel I should be up doing something. Yet when the body says, "Sit yo' arse down!" sometimes that is what you have to do. I know that this period of low energy only lasts a short while during pregnancy (at least until the very end) so I'm taking it easy, or slowing it down at least. For those of you who do follow my blog, you now can look forward to posts about how I am going to try to maintain a healthy, pregnant lifestyle over the next few months.

I truly hope that this blog entry helps someone who feels like they've been through hell and back. I have my moments of sadness, of darkness, of gloom. You have to allow yourself these moments, but I really try not to wallow in self pity. I allow these moments to pass, and keep it moving the best I can because I do have some really good things in life to look forward to. Moving on is very scary, though. I recently told my husband that 2014 scares me. I feel like I've lost so much in 2013, and moving on to the new year means facing a new year without my Daddy. The reality has just really set in. I've had to accept the fact that he is no longer on this side. I've equally accepted that the miscarriage had to happen for whatever reason. I recently read somewhere that when you have a miscarriage, and you have a healthy pregnancy afterwards, that baby is called a "rainbow" baby. How appropriate...God reveals rainbows after the rain, a covenant of peace between the world and the Creator. I'm looking forward to new life blooming after the storm. So somebody pass me the sparkling grape juice...It's time to ring in 2014!

Blessings to you all...love Sanpri and "Peanut" Porter (due June 25, 2014)

Breaking(or Loosening) Every Chain

It has been two months since I lost my daddy and had a miscarriage. Oddly enough, I've come to terms with the miscarriage. Because of another health issue I have(which is not life threatening, and totally fixable), it was best that nature took its course then before something worse happened further along in the pregnancy. Every morning, I do come to a new realization that my daddy is no longer on this Earth. It is a weird feeling because it is like I know he's gone, but every day that goes by that I don't receive a call or text from him, it's like a fresh reminder. It pains me deeply. That pain is very strong Sunday mornings. I usually start my Sunday's off leading my group run of Black Girls Run! ladies, come home, eat breakfast and clean a little bit. Then, I get myself and my son ready for church. My mind begins to float off, and I look at my phone. Prior to Sept 4, I would look forward to hearing from my dad via text or phone call, and he would tell me about how he was getting ready to go to church, too. I can't tell you how many times I still text his phone, looking at his old texts, and waiting for him to text me back. At church, I cry. I long for the message of the day to bring me peace, to help me to refocus on the life that I'm supposed to lead, and not the death of my dad. I feel like when I don't think about him, I will forget him and when I do think about him, I will remember him all to well. It is a perpetual cycle that I'm constantly talking and praying myself through. The chain has been hard to break.

As far as my fitness goals, well I'm on a mission to lose 10 lbs I gained through eating my way through grief and the miscarriage. I'm very grateful to my Sunday running group. I look forward to being around the positive energy these ladies bring around me every week. It helps me to have more reason to wake up on Sundays, the hardest day of the week for me. On October 28th, I began a 30 day challenge to eliminate most dairy, sweets, and caffeine in my life, and committed myself to working out consistently 5 days a week. I'm not working out as intense, because, to be honest, I just don't feel up to killing myself to stay in shape. I just want to feel good. I am training for my 3rd half marathon in December, but my goal is just to finish, and not to set a personal record. I feel kinda like an underachiever, but I'm just tired,emotionally and physically. I need to reboot but I haven't quite figured out how to. No matter how many runs I do, no matter how many pedicures I get, or how many times I go to church, the pain is still there. Yet, I keep pushing. I keep showing up and going through the motions until the wall falls down and the chains are broken. Sometimes, that is all we can do.

"Break Every Chain" by Tasha Cobb was one of my dad's favorite gospel songs. A lovely young lady led the song with the choir singing powerfully behind her at my dad's funeral. The lyrics go, "There is power in the name of Jesus...There is power in the name of Jesus...There is power in the name of Jesus, to break every chain, break every chain, break every chain." I'm not sure what this song meant to my dad personally, but for me it has meant that I have to press forward and cry out. At the moment I do feel bonded by grief, but the hold it has on me gets a little bit lighter when I seek God's presence. I know that some of my readers may not be very religious, or don't consider themselves spiritual. However trust that when you believe in someone higher than you, it gives you the power to move forward. I don't worry about what's going on in the world around me. Of course, I try to stay aware, but I can't worry about what I cannot change. I am working hard to not get stuck in a perpetual cycle of depression, because I am still living. I've got a calling and a purpose that is bigger than my grief. I have to remember that everything I've gone through is still fresh, and that my feelings are appropriate. The strength of my dad (and my mom, who is still here on Earth with me) runs through me. I will get through this period in my life.

The chains aren't broken, but they've loosened up!

Losing and Finding Myself...Again

You might have looked at the title, and said, "Wait a minute, did she start gaining weight again?" Well, yes and no. This month I would have celebrated one year of maintaining my goal weight. This month, I was planning on attending the 2nd Annual Black Girls Run! Race and Conference Weekend here in Charlotte, and I had been writing weekly blogs getting people excited about the organization's weekend events. This month, I was supposed to go to a wedding Labor Day Weekend...but this month, I did not do any of these things. This month I experienced great sadness and loss. This month, I lost my Daddy and my baby.

I am writing this because this is all I know to do right now, and hopefully my story will help someone whose ever been through such hurt. I have lost a lot of people and things in my 32 years of existence. I've lost a sister to mental illness and suicide, I've lost a house to a fire, I've lost all of my grandparents except my two step-grandmothers, and several beloved aunts, uncles, and cousins. If you live long enough, you assuredly will lose something or someone in your life. It is the Circle of Life, according to the Lion King:) I never, however, thought that I could lose so much at one time. My case is not unique. People experience loss all the time; the world is full of stories of incomprehensible pain and despair. My case is only unique to me. Nobody knows my sorrow like I do.

By all accounts the days leading to August 29, 2013 were what I would consider good days. My dad had just celebrated his 62nd birthday, my husband and I just celebrated turning 32, and we got to attend a beautiful wedding in July. I found out I was pregnant with what would have been my second child the second week of August, and although I initially wanted to keep it a secret until I was at least three months along, my husband was so excited! He told everyone he could think of, so I decided to tell people closest to me. His logic was that we needed as much prayer as we could get to protect the baby. I said, you're right, we do! I wasn't really concerned. This time around, I had gotten to a healthy pre-pregnancy weight and I was still quite active, although I had noticed I was getting more fatigued with runs. I was taking prenatal vitamins faithfully, even before I conceived. Like my last pregnancy, it only took me 3 months to get pregnant after stopping contraceptives. I had been concerned that because I was older, it would take longer. Yet, everything seemed to be going as planned. Several days prior to me finding out I was pregnant, I would wake up at the same time in the middle of the night. I attributed it to being pregnant. Little did I know, God was wanting me to really spend time with him. He was preparing me for something.

About a week later, I got some concerning calls from my aunt concerning my dad. He had been in and out of the emergency room, and was sent home because initially they couldn't find anything wrong with him. Later that week, he went to a scheduled doctor's appointment, and because of the severity of his unexplainable pain, was sent to the ER again via ambulance. Subsequently he was admitted. My dad was one of the healthiest persons I knew for the most part. Even though he had smoked and drank in his lifetime, he was faithful about exercising. He was a black belt in martial arts. He was diagnosed with liver disease about 2 years ago, but was managing it and initially we thought he was having some kind of flare up. We were wrong....

I traveled down to Florida to see him by myself the first time. I had to make a 6 hour trip 8 hours due to the fatigue of pregnancy and everyday life, but I needed to see about my dad. When I got there, they were taking him down for a biopsy. He was lethargic and inaudible. I stayed with him that weekend. He was walking and talking, but still in a lot of pain. My aunts and I tried to ask all the questions we could. Before I left to return to North Carolina, I was told it would take a week to get the results. I was concerned, but I didn't fear the worse. I felt like my aunts were going to make sure he got the best care. I called everyday to see about him, some days I could talk to him. Some days, he was too tired to talk, but I told him I loved him, just like I'd always had since I was able to talk. We got the initial diagnosis the following week: Anaplastic Large Cell Carcinoma, stage 3. I've never heard of this, except that it was a form of non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. The MD assured us that because of the type he had, even though it was in it's late stages, it was treatable with chemo. The following week, he got the catheter placed in him to start chemo, and this is when everything went completely south. Somehow, my dad's kidneys started to fail. The lymph nodes apparently became so enlarged that they were blocking his arteries to his kidneys, his belly was so swollen he could not breathe, and they were concerned about his airway. He was developing infections. I, being the closest next of kin, had to make life or death decisions for him via phone while I was at work trying to take care of other sick people. I wasn't ready for this. God, I wasn't ready...

Fast forward to the Thursday before Labor day: August 29th, My first ultrasound appointment. My husband and I tried to get excited, even though the state of my dad's health loomed over us. We get there, expecting to hear a heartbeat, only to be told by a very experienced ultrasound tech(the same one who showed me David's heartbeat nearly six years ago)that although it was apparent I had been pregnant, there was blood in the gestational sac, and I was about to miscarry. Our hearts began to sink, and all we could do was embrace. "Could this really be happening? Are we losing our baby? Am I losing my dad?" I had told my aunts I was pregnant, because I wanted to give my dad something to fight for. He was so full of life. He loved David so much. He would be excited to hear about another baby. Now, we were being told, it is not meant to be. I couldn't tell my aunts about this now. With the exception of our parents and friends, I told no one about the miscarriage. We were still holding out hope. The cruel thing about the process of miscarriage, is that you still initially feel the pregnancy symptoms. Then slowly, they start to disappear. I now had to refocus on my dad, and pray that nature would not take it's course inside of me until he was out of the woods.

Instead of heading to Myrtle Beach for a wedding Labor Day weekend, we headed down to see my dad. When I got there, I soon discovered that his condition had drastically changed. He had to be heavily sedated because he was in so much pain, he had tubes down his throat to help him breath and provide nutrition. He was swollen and on dialysis 24/7. His eyes were slightly open, but his pupils were dilated. "Was I looking at a patient of mine, or was I looking at my dad?" I was shocked by his appearance, but my medical knowledge helped to keep me calm and rational, for the most part. When I looked at him, I knew it wasn't good. I would stay by his bedside most of the weekend, just looking at him. I tried to joke around, telling him he looked like an old man with all that hair on his face and head. My dad always kept a bald head and neat mustache. The day I had to return back to North Carolina, I knew it was the beginning of the end, and I didn't want to leave him. He was being kept alive. Everything in his once strong and youthful body was shutting down. We were losing him...

That Tuesday, I tried to resume life as normal. My son was starting his first day of kindergarten and riding the bus like a big boy! After taking a few cute pictures and seeing him on his way, I went to work. I knew that this day was going to be the day I would have to start making some tough decisions about my dad so I kept my phone on. No sooner did I finish treating the first patient, did I get the calls I was dreading. Speaking on the speaker phone with my aunts and the doctor as he matter-of- factly pointed out the dire condition of my dad, we decided collectively that my dad would not want to continue going on like this. My mom(who was divorced from my dad, but still very good friends with him) did not hesitate to drive me down to Florida to prepare to see him for the last time...

The walk to his room was the longest walk of my life. I was about to tell my dad we were letting him go. He had lived his life, and it was a good one. He had turned his life over to God and was a man with a big heart for giving and "doing right" by people. He didn't have much, but he gave what he had. God was ready to tell him, "Well done, good and faithful servant", and I had to get ready to let him go. After talking with several doctors and hospice, I decided to sign him over to hospice care so that the end of his life would be as peaceful as possible. After they removed the lines and tubes, with the exception of the pain medicine, I sat there with him; I held his hand, I sang to him (he loved my voice), I told him that it was okay to go. We would be okay. I listened closely to his breathing, and watched the pulse in his neck beat wildly as he struggled between staying with us in this life and moving on to something better in the next. Although the nurse was so kind to turn all the monitors off in the room, I could still hear them in the hallway alarming. The alarms were indicating that his blood pressure was continuing to drop, and his heart rate was getting more irregular. My dad was dying. My baby was dead inside of me. My heart was in a million pieces.

My dad held on for three hours after we removed his life support. I tried to stay with him until his last breath, but my family convinced me to go get some rest. As soon as my mom and I pulled out of the parking lot, I got the call. I ran back up there to his room, but as soon as I opened the door, I knew he was already gone. I was soooo mad at him! He just had to be in control until the end...but I had to respect the fact that he was waiting on me to leave. Although the experience of watching my dad die was grueling, it was also the most beautiful experience. There was a lot of love flowing in and out of that room all day. The heavens opened and it poured down rain upon his entrance into God's hands around 6:30 pm September 4th, 2013. My dad was free!

The next week and a half I was in a daze. The weekend that thousands of beautiful women of color were gathering in Charlotte to run, I was suddenly thrown into planning my dad's funeral. Had my aunts and mom not been with me every step of the way, I don't know how I would have made it through. Family and friends were in and out of my dad's home, the same home he watched his own parents die in. All kinds of food was in my presence. Though I was grateful, I fell into bad habits and started eating food just because it was there. I estimate I've gained between five and eight pounds in three weeks. I was feeling so lost, lost in a bad dream. Just when I thought the dream couldn't get any worst, I started to miscarry. Everything that was predicted was coming to pass. I went numb. Trying to conceal my physical and emotional pain was extremely difficult. Most of my family had found out I was pregnant, and I dare not tell them that now it was not true. I ate more. The week I was planning my dad's service, I got the opportunity to retreat to my cousin's beautiful home for a few days. It was a welcomed escape, and I got the opportunity to get out and run a little, even though I didn't feel like it. I sweated and I cried, over and over again. I made it through the viewing and beautiful service for my dad. I even gathered the strength to speak about him. He was my dad, and even though I didn't get to tell him how proud I was of him, I wanted the people that attended his service to know that I was. He was a loved man. He left a legacy.


I am struggling now to understand why everything had to happen this way, and I suppose I will for a while. Since being back home, I've tried to continue with life as usual. I'm going to work, going to the gym, shuffling David off to school, being mommy and wifey...yet still feeling that gaping hole in my heart. I've told my aunts that I am not pregnant anymore. My heart breaks because I feel like such a disappointment. This baby was supposed to be the rainbow after the storm. I tried to do everything right and took better care of myself this time, but I still lost my child. It wasn't meant to be...this time. Everyday, I wake up now I feel empty and have to find things during the day to fill that emptiness. I'm focused on building my endurance back up and losing the weight I've gained. My emotions are up and down, which I suspect is normal. I struggle with whether I made the right decisions for my dad, and I feel guilty because I couldn't help him get better. I know I have to find peace with what has happened. God is in control, and it was just his time...


Now that I am back at work, I have a new perspective on what my patients and their families go through.Even though the doctors may be telling us to let a loved one go, it isn't so black and white. I was fortunate enough(unlike most families) to know that my dad was truly suffering. Signing those hospice papers, I felt like I had some control over the situation. But I didn't. God was and still is in control, and if my dad was meant to live, God would have turned his situation around. If my baby was meant to survive, God would have made it so. A friend of mine suggested I start a gratitude journal. I think I may do that. God has blessed me far more than not. Even in the midst of tragedy, a blessing waits for me beyond the clouds. I saw a link on Facebook which said,"Describe your life in five words". My life in five words:Constantly...having...my...faith...tested. Yep, that is my life. As I look back over the last couple of years, I realize that God was preparing me for these events all along. He was getting me physically and mentally stronger. He was strategically placing people in my life and moving people closer to me to build my support system. He was drawing me closer to Him. Through it all, I'm still standing. My daddy(and mom) raised a strong woman. Although I feel lost right now, I'm confident I will find myself again. I've proven that I've got great navigational skills, and Jesus is my compass.

I love you all and stay encouraged in the midst of your storms. Romans 8:28: And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, and have been called according to his purpose. In memory of my dad, Anthony General Purdy(7/7/51 - 9/4/13). I love you, daddy!

The Sweet Life

It has been a long thirty days! I challenged myself to avoid all sweets for the month of June. Boy, am I glad June is only thirty days, because thirty-one would have killed me! lol. I would not be telling the whole truth if I said I lived a completely sugar-free life for the last 30 days. I did avoid chocolate, cakes, cupcakes, pies, cookies, and candy all month. I did enjoy an occasional sweet beverage. However, I am still proud of the discipline I showed because last month I went CRAZY with the sweets. Now, I know that I don't need sugar to make it through the day. Not to make light of what drug addicts go through, but I really felt helpless to it. I made "secret" runs to the store, had a stash of Reeses in my car. Oh, it was bad! The more that I consumed, the more I wanted. I had to break the cycle because I felt dependent on sugar as a stress reliever for that short period of time. It was no longer something I truly enjoyed occasionally as a treat. Sugar was something I started to depend on to get me through the day. I was getting an "addicts" mentality, and I did not want to go down that road. Thankfully, I continued to be very active, but I did put on a few pounds for whatever reason; it could have been the sugar, the weight training,or my hormones.

This month has been great, and busy!...my baby boy has been out of town enjoying the company of his grandparents for the last month. I have certainly enjoyed this much needed time alone with my husband. We've enjoyed attempting to make home improvements, and impromptu late night runs to Wal-mart. I've gotten a chance to really focus on my fitness. I could run or workout at times I normally wouldn't be able to, and I have gotten to run more with different Black Girls Run groups around the city. Some of them would probably tell you that I've been a running fool! We take a group picture at the end of each run and post them on the BGR Charlotte Facebook page. I've probably been in about 20 pictures this month alone. By the looks of my Nike Run App, I guess I am a fool for running. I have logged over 50 miles this month! I am not sure if this is a first because I've never been real consistent with tracking my miles up until now. Even still, there were a few short runs I did this month that I didn't track. Some runs were slower than others, but regardless, I finished! It has been very humid lately, which my body does not handle well. So I have been focusing more on frequency, and less on speed and distance. I've been so busy and active, I've hardly noticed the Reese's Peanut Butter Cup minis at the checkout counter, or the cookies from Qdoba at work. Nope, didn't give them a second glance! I've been tightening up,and although I have only lost about two of the six pounds I've gained, I've never felt more in shape or beautiful!

So, tomorrow marks the 1st day of my 17 day long birthday celebration! Since I turned 29, birthdays have been very important to me. Maybe it is because at 29, I decided to make a turn for better health. I saw a truth about myself I've always known, but was too afraid to confront. I felt I didn't deserve to feel good about my self, and I hid it behind being a people-pleaser and over-eater. I didn't want to go into my 30s feeling the same way. So, for the next 17 days until my big day, I must warn you all, I may be a little bit obnoxious and extremely sentimental! I have been thinking of ways to celebrate every day in small ways. One thought that came to mind was to celebrate a person who has had a big impact in my life each day of the 17 days. I am going to write a journal entry(I actually have a paper journal, too) about each person and do a Facebook entry about that person as well. I want to focus on myself, but celebrate others who have positively impacted my life as well. I also want to do something I've never done before, like rock-climbing(in doors, of course) or hike a local mountain.


So, just continue to follow me on the journey...it is not over yet. I may be saying goodbye to 31, but I am rejoicing in the blessings I have now and the ones coming my way. It has been very hard for me to not be anxious about the things my heart truly desires. My good friend shared a quote today from Christine Caine, a powerful woman of God who has preached at my church many times. She said, "Don't put a due date on something God is going to deliver in due season.". I needed to hear that so much! I know that my desires need to be in line with God's will, and I have been praying the two become aligned. So I am dedicated to stepping into 32 with this quote in mind. I'm gonna live the Sweet Life with maybe a little less sweets this time around! Here's to my new year!

Weighed Down

Well folks, I got through most of May without weighing myself, and I am not sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing. On the plus side, I was not obsessive with jumping on the dreadful scale. I really tried to focus on other indicators of being healthy, such as how I felt inside and how my clothes fit on the outside. It wasn’t until this past week when I went to my doctor to check on some things that I became concerned. I had put on about six pounds over the past four weeks! For some people, this may not sound like much, but for me, I was in melt down mode! I might as well have gained 60 pounds! My husband says, “I am sure it is all muscle”. I have been working hard on improving the definition of my arms and doing a million squats which probably enhanced my already genetically blessed derrière and thighs. May, for various reasons was also a very stressful month for me. I looked to sugar for comfort frequently. It also did not help that there were multiple events which involved food at the hospital I work at, and it was very rare to find something healthy on those menus. Talk about one of healthcare’s biggest contradictions…we are health professionals and we reward ourselves with unhealthy foods. Can we get a nice, catered salad bar, please? I’ve also recently stopped taking anything that would prevent a baby from forming, but I doubt if a kid was growing in my womb he or she would have caused such a rapid weight gain.


So, it is June 1st. I have pledged to not eat sweets over the next 30 days and should I get a craving for something sugary, I will reach for a piece of fruit instead. I was very proud of myself today. We had our company picnic, and I did not have one dessert! My husband has also taken up juicing, which has helped him shed a few pounds. I have benefited from this by supplementing an occasional breakfast meal with a nice blend of fruits and veggies. I have noticed that I can’t get into my size 8 pants anymore, which is a little disheartening, but I don’t feel jiggly. I feel pretty firm and fit; I just wish the scale would mirror what I feel. I am much more optimistic this month, and excited about trying for another child. Like I said before, this will be a different experience from my past pregnancy. With my son, David, I started off grossly overweight, tipping the scale at 250 upon entering my ninth month. I don’t even know how I made it to the ninth month being only 5’2 and my belly was spread from the east to the west coast! I regretfully had to have a caesarean section, which thankfully was uncomplicated. If I can avoid having one this time, it would be such a blessing. This time around, I am at my healthiest weight since high school; I am six years older, and very physically active. My goal is to only gain between 15 to 20 pounds the next pregnancy (so, kid, if you’re in there, I hope you are listening!). I am inspired by the women in my Black Girls Run group. One woman just finished her first half marathon while several months pregnant! God willing, this will be me. Of course I will do my best not to endanger my child for the sake of maintaining my current lifestyle. I will do all the necessary modifications to ensure that we stay as active and healthy as possible so that I can make it to a safe delivery.


Currently, my son is over 2000 miles away with his grandparents for the next month. Though I miss him terribly, I am grateful for this little break. My husband and I are having a great time together, and learning more about each other (you’d think we would know everything about each other after nearly fourteen years together). We are attempting to do some minor home improvements(note, I said attempting. Neither of us is very handy). I am getting more opportunities to run with the girls of Black Girls Run all over the Charlotte area. I love the camaraderie and I enjoy sharing my story with others. I am fortunate enough to be a social media ambassador for Black Girls Run this year, and I have started a new blog, solejourney2013.blogspot.com. The blog will feature various topics while tracing my journey as I embark on training/preparing for the upcoming Black Girls Run “Sweat With Your Sole” 5K/10K race and conference in September. The conference will be held in Charlotte this year, so I am extremely excited it is right at my back door. I hope to convince my mom to run the 5k race. For this next month, I am going to try my best to stay positive even in the midst of the little storms. I have got 47 days until my 32nd birthday;I have got to keep it tight and right! Thank God for the ability to run! It has been my saving grace through some of May’s trials. I really don’t think I would have bounced back as quickly had running not been an outlet for me.

“I don’t have to feel weighed down by life’s burdens. God is strong enough to carry that weight for me, free of charge.” ---Sanpri