Hello friends 🙂 and welcome to my blog. If you’re here it’s because God guided you in this direction and you’re ready to go on a journey of inspiration and motivation.
For many years I struggled with finding my purpose and where to fall in line. All throughout high school I spent way too much time trying to fit in and all throughout college I spent way too much time seeking validation. It wasn’t until my mid 20’s I started to slowly figure out what I wanted. Now in my late 20’s I finally accept that where I am currently, is where God wants me to be. I’m an active duty military spouse who runs her own business, hosts her own podcast, and is called to inspire, uplift, and empower those who need it most.
I am a firm believer in the force of attraction. If you constantly focus on the negative then you will always receive negative energy. Believe me, I have lived a variety of moments where I always attracted the wrong energy and wrong company because I focused too much on what was wrong as opposed to what was right and what was going well for me. However, if you focus on the positive then positive vibes and energy will always find you. I thrive off of others success and happiness. It motivates and inspires me to do my very best. In my opinion, to be motivated and inspired by others is the key to success. More importantly, having a relationship with God encourages that you can do ALL THINGS THROUGH HIM (Philippians 4:13).
My purpose and my goal in life is to not only encourage you to trust the plan that God has for you (Jeremiah 29:11), but to also inspire you to always do your very best. The words of wisdom and encouragement I offer comes from years of insecurity, results and consequences of bad decisions, and most of all acceptance and self-love. I dare you to join me in finding your path and the journey to loving yourself whole heartedly. If you do dare, connect with me and follow me below. I promise…you won’t be disappointed.
It’s been over a year since my husband has been home from deployment and these days during the COVID-19 pandemic, I find myself reflecting on our journey and our blessings. I have to be honest, going into deployment I knew it would be hard, but I didn’t think there would be as much crying and frustration as it would. The first two weeks were the hardest two weeks I ever experienced. I was lonely, I was sad, I was depressed and emotional. Coming home from work to an empty home every day made it even harder. Every day I felt like a piece of me was missing, and it was. Shawn was thousands and thousands of miles away from me and there was nothing I could do about getting him back to me any faster.
Courtesy of Corrina Lynn Photograph
Courtesy of Corrina Lynn Photography
However, after a month into deployment things started to settle a little more. I got back into my normal routine of working out, writing, hobbies, and volunteering on base. Getting back into my flow, believe it or not, made the deployment go by smoother. I won’t say it went by faster, but it helped keep myself busy by surrounding myself with a strong and supportive community. I want to share my deployment story with you. The person reading this right now, who is about to go through their first deployment. I am going to tell you how and what got me through my first deployment. I will also provide important links to resources that help support military families and spouses. Keep in mind, every military spouse, or also known as “milspouse” experience is not the same during deployment. Everyone’s story is different. But it does help to know that you are not the only one out here trying to balance a military spouse lifestyle. Please feel free to share my story and information that I provide with other spouses and family members you know.
It all started with our first holiday away from one another as newlyweds. I was so set on not decorating our first home for Christmas because of course he was deployed. I mean what’s the point of decorating your first home for the holidays if your significant other is not there to enjoy it with you, right?
But, I refused to feel sad and depressed because he was gone. Christmas and New Year’s are my favorite times of the year because it always reminds me of home and my childhood. Decorating for the holidays was the closest thing I had to remind me of my family back at home in Hanover and Baltimore. If there is ONE thing I remember as a kid loving about Christmas, it would be the wreaths. My mom owned this burgundy wreath that I always loved every year when she put it up for Christmas, which is how I started making wreaths as a side hobby.
Finding a hobby
I always say the deployment is an opportunity to get involved in the things you have always dreamed of doing or becoming a part of. I started making wreaths because it made me joyful and happy. Not only that, but I was also good at what I did and I loved it! The first wreath I made was a Christmas one with the letter “M” to represent our last name…”Moore.” Okay, so I got the general idea from Pinterest of course, but the creative side of it all…was me…entirely. Making this wreath made my holidays so much easier! I was proud to be Mrs. Moore and had no problem bragging about it! I had so much fun being creative with making the first wreath that I made a few more, for spring, fall, and the following winter when he was home for Christmas this past year.
I encourage all milspouses to find a hobby during deployment. If you have always found candle making fascinating, then try it out! I mean why not right? What do you have to lose? Make your candles! If crocheting has always been an interest of yours then crochet! You may find to be therapeutic during deployment. It’s your hobby and it makes you smile and at the end of the day that is all that matters. Your happiness, your joy, and your sanity during deployment.
Having a career
Working kept me sane most days. Despite the shitty hours of having to be up around midnight, going to work made me feel productive and independent. It also helped me to be around my news team.
Everyone there knew I was a military wife and they knew Shawn was on a six-month deployment. So, they always checked in on me to make sure I was okay. In the words of my boss, “you’re family now so don’t ever feel like you have to be alone.”
And they were like my family. They were my work family. I enjoyed going into work and being around a group of people who shared the same background and passions as me. Stay active and stay working. Whether you are a barista at Starbucks or a Store Manager at Abercrombie & Fitch, stay working. I promise you it pays off, both emotionally and financially of course! Because what kind of a girl doesn’t like treating herself to a spa day or some sexy lingerie before your service member returns home!
Volunteering in my community
I honestly don’t know what I would have done without my milspouse volunteers. Getting involved with LINKS, Blue Star Families, and my husband’s unit was one of the best things I could have ever done while going through a deployment. I always felt supported by those I worked closely with for special events or gatherings. I volunteered my time as a Mentor with LINKS for Spouses and some of my other time with Blue Star Families as an Event Coordinator.
While doing this I not only made friends, but I also developed skills that benefit my professionalism. I learned how to manage my time better, I learned how to network, and I also learned basic computer software skills, which comes in handy working in the new broadcasting industry believe it or not.
For any military spouse out there who is about to go through their first deployment or second, I highly encourage volunteer work. My advice, get involved with your service member’s unit and see what help you can offer to the Deployment Readiness Coordinator. You’ll find doing this will not only encourage you but, it will help make the deployment go by a lot smoother. Find a way to always stay busy.
Below are the following links to the non-profit military organizations that are always looking for more volunteers.
As a person who works in the news broadcasting industry, I wanted to learn more about news writing, producing, and reporting. So I enrolled in a Television and Studio Production class at Palomar College in San Marcos. While attending the class I also worked at a local news station in Kearny Mesa, a neighborhood close to downtown San Diego. Enrolling in class was probably the best decision I could have ever made. Not only did it fill my schedule three days a week, but I also obtained a lot of useful information, which will benefit me going forward in the news broadcasting industry.
I always felt productive working and going to class, which staying busy is key while going through a deployment. If you are about to go through another deployment or if you are about to experience the first one, use this time to learn a skill.
If you always wanted to learn computer graphics, real estate, or management, use this time to do it. You can never go wrong with furthering your knowledge and education. Now for some, going to school or taking a class may not be in a financial budget. That’s okay! There are other ways you can still learn a skill and still go to school without worrying about how you are going to pay.
One way is to talk to an advisor at your local base education center or someone that works on base with military families, perhaps your Deployment Readiness Coordinator (DRC). Ask them about tuition assistance and education. They will probably direct you to MySECO, which is a group that supports military spouses through education and career. This brings me to my second option, contact MySECO and ask to speak with an advisor about the MyCAA Scholarship. This scholarship is offered to all military spouses whose service members are grades E-1 through E-5. It covers Associate’s Degrees, Certifications, Credentials, and Licenses. If you want to know more about this scholarship I have attached a link to the MySECO website for more information.
I did not use the scholarship to cover my class. I paid a one-time fee out of pocket for my course, but I do plan on using MyCAA in the future, and I encourage you to do the same.
Before I knew it, with all the work I had been doing and had been involved in, six months went by and homecoming was around the corner. I remember sitting in a homecoming briefing with other spouses and family readiness let us know that we will most likely feel some nervousness of our service members returning home. At that moment, I couldn’t even imagine myself being nervous about Shawn coming home.
It wasn’t until a week out I started feeling nervous and overwhelmed! From trying to get everything perfectly organized and cleaned, to figuring out how I was going to create his “Welcome Home” sign, I was losing a majority of my shit! The most overwhelming part of getting ready for him to come back home was reorganizing the closet because all of my clothes and shoes had taken over his side. I guarantee a lot of milspouse can relate to that one!
His arrival day had finally come and I was excited, relieved, and yet overwhelmed. I hired a personal photographer to capture our moments. As the buses approached his unit, my heart started racing and tears started falling from my eyes.
One by one a Marine walked off the bus and each one greeted by their children, wives, moms, dads, and sisters. While holding my “Welcome Home” sign, I looked for Shawn in the crowd. Slowly but surely he came from behind me and grabbed me by the waist.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and he picked me up, held me tight, and kissed me on the cheek. Tears filled my eyes and fell down my cheeks like a waterfall. I finally had my husband back.
Courtesty of Corrina Lynn Photography
Courtesy of Corrina Lynn Photography
Courtesy of Corrina Lynn Photography
Courtesy of Corinna Lynn Photography
Six-and-a-half-months, 28 weeks, 197 days, 4,728 hours, and 283,680 minutes, was the length of time we spent separated. Yes, it was hard. Yes, I cried a lot. Yes, we got tired. But, we still made it work. Despite the hardships, we still loved each other through it all. How exactly did we make it? It’s simple.
Send care packages and gifts every month.
We never went to bed angry
We talked about the future
We always said “I love you”
I hope my story encouraged and helped you…the milspouse reading this post. I hope the resources that I provided will be of support to you and your families. Lastly, no matter where you are or how you are feeling, always remember that you are not alone. The military spouse is a strong community. We are here for you! We are strong for you! #teammilspouse and feel free to share this post with your friends and other milspouses who need it.
I started writing The Diary of a Military Wife because I needed an outlet. I needed a way to cope with my stress and all of my other emotional rollercoasters I find myself experiencing on a day to day basis. However, in sharing my story with other military wives, I found that more women shed light on my story about my miscarriage more than anything. I received more text messages, facebook messages, and Instagram messages about that more than I did about my military wife life experience, and it’s because of that I feel as if God has called me to dedicate a post to all women who have suffered from miscarriages and have kept quiet about it. So if you are reading this, and you have suffered from such a tragic event in life, I dedicate this post to you.
It was the winter of 2015 when I found out I was pregnant. The day I found out my heart I literally dropped. Sometimes people get excited when they find out that they are pregnant, me, however, I was just scared. I was far from prepared in becoming a parent. I kept my pregnancy a secret for a while. The only people that knew about it were my parents, my cousin, and the father of my child, who is now my husband. Why did I keep it secret? Well, I had many reasons.
The first reason was that of embarrassment. I was embarrassed because I barely knew my husband at the time, two months into our relationship I got pregnant. However, that wasn’t the only thing that contributed to my embarrassment, along with only knowing him for only two months, I had met him online and flew out to California to meet him in person. I know crazy right? Sometimes I can’t believe it myself that I did that shit.
After seeing my mother cry when I told her, I didn’t want to tell anyone else until I knew what my for sure plan was going to be. As much as it pains me to admit it, yes abortion was my plan. Which leads me to my second reason why I kept my pregnancy a secret, I knew I would receive backlash, be ridiculed, and judged by everyone, which made me feel ashamed.
My decision to have an abortion never sat well with me. EVER. It kept me up and restless at night. I cried…literally cried myself to sleep every night for deciding on something that my heart and spirit truly did not want. About a week or so before my abortion appointment, I got down on both knees and ask God for so much forgiveness. “God forgive me for being so irresponsible. God forgive me for slapping you in the face with this blessing.” Deep down I couldn’t have this abortion.
I would not have been able to live with it. I remember asking God to please decide on a plan for me. If it was in His plan and vision for me to keep this baby, grow up quickly, and become a parent, then I would, or if it was simply in His plan for me to give my child up to another family in need, then I would. Either way…I needed Him to decide for me because I couldn’t and didn’t want to decide.
Now we all know, that when we ask God for answers, we don’t always get the one that we want. We usually get the one that we need. I asked God to decide for me to either keep my baby or give my baby to a family in need. He gave me neither one. Not only did I find out at my appointment that I had a very abnormal pregnancy, as in there was no embryo, just a sac, about eight to ten weeks into my pregnancy…I started bleeding. I knew that there was a possibility that I was miscarrying, but I didn’t panic too much, because I knew that it was common sometimes for women to have periods during their pregnancy, but when the cramps started to come…I knew then….it was about to be over. I bled for nearly two weeks.
The pain was excruciating! I have never experienced so much pain in my entire life. My doctor told that I had in fact miscarried and that I needed a D and C. I didn’t have a job at the time so I couldn’t afford a D and C. So my doctor prescribed me with a medication that would clean out what was left of my pregnancy. One thing she warned me about was that when this medication would kick in, it would feel like my body is going into labor.
The day I experienced labor pains…was the day I became a strong woman. This medication did exactly what my doctor said it would, and when it was over…it was over. I remember going to the bathroom and looking down in the toilet and seeing what was a part of my husband and I. It wasn’t a baby…but it was life. I cried and I prayed, I cried and I prayed, I cried and prayed…over and over and over again. I asked God for healing.
I never opened up to anyone about my pregnancy and miscarriage experience until now. My own brother didn’t even know what I had gone through. I remained silent for a year to a year and a half. I never talked about it to anyone. Not only did I not talk about it…but I had a hard time forgiving myself. I blamed myself for everything. From having an abnormal pregnancy to having a miscarriage, I beat myself up entirely.
Every day I wonder, if I was more responsible, and had not taken two to three Plan B pills because we didn’t use condoms, would my pregnancy been normal? Every day I wonder, if I had gone with that first instinct when I thought I was pregnant and didn’t have that drink, would my baby still be here? Every day I wonder, when I decided to have an abortion, was my miscarriage God’s way of punishing me? Even after I asked Him to decide for me to keep my child or give it to a family in need. It took me a while to not only forgive myself but to understand that it really wasn’t my fault.
After a while, I saw the blessing in disguise and realized, that not only did God know that I couldn’t live with a decision that would hurt me for the rest of my life, but He also knew that I wasn’t ready to be a mother or leave my child in the responsibility of someone else. I feared that if I gave my baby up for adoption they would resent me when they got older and that if I had kept my baby, I would not be able to provide for him or her.
God took care of what I would not have been able to do myself. My embarrassment and shame prevented me from being open about my story until I just decided to talk about it in my Diary of a Military Wife. The number of women who came to me and expressed their gratitude for being brave enough to share my story, made me feel so blessed, and mostly not alone.
To the woman who is reading this right now…you are not alone and you have nothing to be ashamed and embarrassed about. To the woman reading this right now…it wasn’t your fault. You did nothing wrong. To the woman who is reading this…it’s okay to talk about it. You don’t have to hide in the shadows or underneath the cracks. Believe it or not, there are other women like you that are out there waiting for you open up so that they don’t feel alone either.
So to every woman who has fallen off the bandwagon, to every woman who has cried wolf, to every woman who has experienced pain, both mentally, emotionally and physically, to every woman who has felt ashamed and embarrassed…you are an inspiration to all. You have the power to empower. Believe that, run with it, cherish it, and live it! I hope my story inspires you to share yours.
What does it mean to set yourself free from yourself? Does it mean stop being a prisoner in your own mind? Does it mean stop being a prisoner in your own reality? Does it mean stop trying to live up to the unrealistic expectations from society and others? How about, does it simply mean letting go of what your heart and mind wanted it to be versus what it turned out to be? The truth is, it means all of these things. To set yourself free from yourself means to break the barriers that are holding you captive from being what you were born to be. It means to accept what was, what is, and what will be. Still not following me? That’s okay…I’ll just share my story with you. I am going to tell you how I set myself free from myself, and you take whatever it is you need to take from this story.
At a young age, I was diagnosed with a learning disability, and as a result, I was placed in IEP ( Individualized Educational Program). For years during my educational experience, I needed the extra help and support from teachers in all of my academics. My family and I were told that my condition would not improve and that I wasn’t even expected to make it past high school, and that I would not even be able to attend college. I would, therefore, be an IEP student the rest of school experience. When I was in the eighth grade, I was removed from IEP. I went into high school that following semester, freshman year, not an IEP student. I still needed some of the extra help in some classes, but for the most part, I was able to perform my academics independently. I only sought the help when I felt I really needed it. The day I was removed from IEP was the day I knew I could do anything, and I do mean anything I put my mind to do. That was also the day I subconsciously put all pressure on myself of trying to prove myself and others wrong by creating this unrealistic better version of myself.
After high school, I went on to pursue my Bachelor’s from Albright College. I went into my freshman year as a Pre-Med student. My advisors started me in 200 level Biology courses because my grades in science from high school were that great. However, I really wasn’t prepared for these 200 level courses and the demands of the classwork. I was determined though to NOT fail. I was determined to NOT let anyone see me fall apart or fail these courses. Well…I failed miserably. I mean I got a big fat F. Looking back, that should have been the moment a light bulb should have gone off in my head, and I should have told myself that I do not have to put this much pressure on myself just prove something to someone.
Long story short, I didn’t go back to science. Instead, I changed my major to Communications and Journalism, and I received my Bachelor of Arts in Communications in the Spring of 2015. It was my most proud moment! Flash forward a year and a half from then. I enrolled in my Master’s program in the Spring semester of 2017 with National University. You’re wondering why I went back for my Master’s so soon right? To be honest, I was already determined from the day I went into my undergraduate program, I knew I was going to go forward and pursue a Master’s program. Why I went back so soon? I had come to the conclusion of what I wanted to do with my career, I just needed the right tools to advance it. Although it was a challenging and long ride, it was worth it. I received my Master of Arts in Strategic Communications in November of 2017.
Yeah I know, quite the ambitious one right? I have to tell you, while that may sound admirable to some, it honestly got me in trouble a lot. Now that I have these two degrees, there is no way I can settle for anything less, right? I have to challenge myself more now. I have to be more determined about my career now. I have to be on top of it all the time. I cannot fail. I have to be perfect. I have to strive for perfection. I have to…have it all. This is what I subconsciously told myself every single day, since being removed from IEP. Not only that, I reinforced it when I got my Bachelor’s and Master’s and I continued to tell myself this because I actually started to believe that I can have it all, that I need to have it all, that I am supposed to have it all. Well, I soon later learned, that this would be an old and untrue story that will eventually need to rewrite myself.
I spent nearly a year and a half pretending to be okay with something I was not okay with, which was being this advanced career driven woman and lately a strong military wife who is supposed to keep her emotions in check all the time. Having two degrees and working mid to high-level jobs put a lot of unnecessary pressure on me. Not only that, it set the expectations of my husband very high. Even then I felt like I couldn’t let him down and that I needed to be this perfect wife and a high-level career woman at 25 years old. Since moving out to California since the Spring of 2017, I have been fired from three different jobs. All jobs in which were not the right work environment or work level for myself. My last job with the Marine Corp as Deployment Readiness Coordinator was the last straw for me. Being terminated from that job broke me in so many ways that I can even begin to tell how tiny the pieces were. It was in this moment, I have never felt so defeated, so embarrassed, so much of a failure, I literally just wanted to crawl in a hole and never be seen by anyone. I was ashamed of myself and believe it or not, even embarrassed to be a wife to my husband, and that is mostly because I know he wears that “my wife is educated and has two degrees” jacket all the time. Not that he goes around bragging about verbally, but he is a proud husband. I felt like I let the one person I love the most down and embarrassed him.
What kind of educated 25-year-old black woman with both a Bachelor’s and Master’s Degree cannot keep a job worth a damn? How am I supposed to have it all, be perfect, and keep it all together if my educated black ass can’t even keep a damn job? This is literally what I would say to myself every day after I lost my job with the Corp. After being terminated a few days later I was back on the job hunt, but this time looking for a job was a lot harder than what it used to be. I was lost, confused, and unsure about what kind of job I was supposed to have. Every job that I looked at, I could not see myself “being perfect and having it all.” The way I saw it, I was not going to settle for a basic ass job. As much as it as I hate to say it that way, it was true. I have two degrees that I worked my ass off to get I shouldn’t be working a basic job. I should be working an advanced job that is going to pay me what I am worth. However, that was the mindset that got me in trouble from the beginning. Hence, how I ended up being jobless again and as result feeling worthless again.
Two weeks after being fired from the Corp, a close friend of mine invited me to a girls night out. Now, this wasn’t your typical girls night out. No no, it was not a night of getting cute, going out to the bar, wearing pink lipstick, drinking cocktails, and shaking your ass on the dance floor. Instead, it was a peaceful night. It was a night of self-reassurance and woman empowerment night. I participated in a small gathering known as a New Moon exercise, which consisted of about eight women between the ages of twenty and forty. In this exercise, we all learned how to break the barriers that were holding us all captive of being free from ourselves. A question was asked, “what old stories do you tell yourself, that are untrue and that need to be rewritten?” You know exactly where I am about to go with this. This question resonated so deeply with me, that I did not need to think twice about my answer.
“What old stories do you tell yourself, that are untrue, and that need to be rewritten?” As I shared my response, this is what I came up with:
“I keep telling myself that because of where I have come from, how far I have come, and because of where I am now as an educated black woman, that I need to be perfect and have it all. I keep telling myself I need to meet up to these expectations of others because of the amount of pressure that I have put on myself to be perfect. I keep telling myself that I need to have it all because of the number of lies I have told myself about the kind of woman I need and should be. I keep telling myself that I need to be this perfect wife because at the time my husband met me, I was this woman who appeared to have had my shit together, when in reality I did not. I keep telling myself that I cannot fall apart and that I need to always remain wholesome. Well, I am tired of living that story. I am tired of trying to be something I am not. I am tired of trying to have it all. I am tired of trying to be perfect. I am tired of all this pressure that I continue to create for myself. Starting tonight, I am breaking this barrier. I am freeing myself from it all because I just cannot do it anymore.”
After I finished my statement, I took a deep inhale and loud exhale, and as I exhaled, I could feel those barriers breaking down. I could feel myself setting myself free. As I sit here and type this, I am crying from tears of happiness and joy. I have never experienced the feeling of my body being as light as a feather until then, and let me tell you, it the greatest feeling that anyone can ever experience. I set myself free from my own unrealistic made up world that I had been living in for almost sixteen years. I’m not meant to be this woman that has it all. I am not meant to be perfect in everything that I do. I was not put on this earth to spend all my life proving to society that I am worth it. I was put on this earth to be exactly where God guides me to be, and while following His lead, living in the moment by accepting what is and not stressing what will be.
I used to tell myself what and who I wanted to be. Now I tell myself to just be. So if you find yourself trapped, buried, closed in, and kept prisoner of your own mind…ask yourself two things; one, are you tired of being there yet? Two, what old stories do you tell yourself that are untrue and that need to be rewritten? Remember, when you find your answer, and you finally set yourself free from yourself, allow yourself to live in the moment, and allow yourself to just be.
“When I am afraid I put my trust in you.” Psalm 56:3
As we pulled up to the entrance of the emergency room, my dad rushed out of the car to grab a nurse. He told them that I am having serious abdominal pain, bleeding, and that I was unable to sit up in the car. Crying in the back of the car and laying on my side with my hands over my lower abdomen, the nurse came to the door.
“What’s her name?”She asked my parents.
“Vashti, sweetheart can you sit up and hop into this wheelchair?”She asked me.
“I can’t get up and I can’t move.”I said.
“Okay, well can you try and crawl your way over to me? If you can crawl halfway to the door, then I can grab you from there.”She said.
I started to crawl my way to the wheelchair and as I made it to the door she did exactly as she said she would do. She grabbed me, picked me up, and put me in the chair. Still hunched over in a ball and still crying from the pain, as she pushed me into the ER, I grabbed her left arm, and buried my face into it. With each cramp that I felt, I grabbed her arm tighter. We finally made it to the emergency room. Two more nurses came in to help pick me up and put me on the bed. While one nurse comforted me, and the other cleaned up after me, another started an IV. Once the IV was started, I felt my body go into a relax mode, I turned on my side, laid in a fetal position, and started to fall asleep.
My mom had sent Shawn from my phone. She told him that she and my dad and I were all in the emergency room. He called right away after receiving the text to ask what was going on and if I was okay. My mom told him that I was okay for the time being and comfortable, but the cramps did come back from time to time. My parents and I waited in the ER, for what seemed to be about four hours before any doctor came. Every twenty-five minutes a “code red” or a “code blue” was announced over the intercom in a woman’s voice, and for those every twenty-five minutes, no doctor, which meant more pain and more discomfort.
I cried all night. With every tear that I shed my dad was by my side and my mother giving me a kiss on my forehead. Even though I had my parents by my side, it seemed like it hurt even more that Shawn was not with me. A part of me started to feel angry and resentful of the fact. I kept telling myself that I should not have been going through this alone. That the man who was with me that night we conceived should have been there too. Believe me, he tried every thing in his power to take leave and come see me, but the downfall in that was that we weren’t married. Therefore, a girlfriend who’s across the country, pregnant, and miscarrying was not that much of a priority. At least, that is how it came across to me at the time.
Hours after waiting for the doctor, I was finally seen by one. After having a few X-Rays and an ultrasound, my doctor did confirm that I was in fact having a miscarriage, and that the cause of the cramping was a buildup of blood in my uterus and the sac, in which a fetus was supposed to be, was trying to flush itself out of my system. He recommended that I get a dilation and curettage procedure (D and C). However, the insurance that I was under did not cover such an expensive procedure. I won’t even begin to discuss the cost of it all. The only thing that my doctor could do was remove some of the blood that was building up and put me on some pain medication to help ease the cramping.
After the procedure was done, I rested for a few hours in the ER. A few hours later my doctor came in to check on me. I told him that I was feeling okay and that I think I was okay to go home that night…more like that morning. He informed me to take Advil as needed if the cramping continues, but most of all get in touch with my gynecologist. Now in the back of my mind all I thought was, “what the fuck can my gynecologist do at this point? I have an abnormal pregnancy, in which all there is to it is a sac that’s attached to my uterus but yet, no embryo or fetus.” However, it made sense when he explained it.
He basically told me that since I decided not to go with the D and C, that my gynecologist would be able to provide other options for me in removing the sac. Although it was a long, painful, and restless night, that same morning that I came back from the ER, my mom and I went to Baltimore to see my gynecologist. By the grace of God, someone canceled their appointment with her that same day, and they were able to have me seen. Arriving at the office, I just had the most unsteady feeling. I was scared but relieved at the same time that I could finally be getting answers to all of this.
As I waited in the room for my doctor, I remember sitting on the table and my mom sitting in the chair next to me. Nothing was said between the two of us, we just looked at each other, and it wasn’t a discomforting look that we gave one another, it was more of a relieved look. My mom looked relieved that I looked relieved and that this could be over upon walking out of the office. When my doctor finally walks in, she does her usual routine of asking me questions of what’s been going on and what symptoms I have been feeling. As she was starting the exam, two nurses walk in and my mom walks out, allowing them to do their jobs. My doctor performed the same type of procedure that the doctor did from the ER.
Like in the ER, after some of the blood was removed I felt some relief, but still some pain at the same time. My doctor explained to me that there are two ways to remove the sac. One way was of course the D and C. The other way was a pill that I could take, a pill that is commonly known as the abortion pill. The pill seemed to be the most easiest, cost effective, and more convenient at the time. By this time I was tired of being in doctor’s environment, I really just wanted to go home and rest. My doctor wrote the prescription for the pill. She informed that once the pill has taken effect, within thirty minutes to an hour, I will start to feel both pressure and some slight pain. Therefore, not only did she prescribe me with the pill, but she also prescribed me with strong pain killers to help ease the pain. In a nutshell, she basically said I would experience labor pains and labor itself.
Walking out of the office, still hunched over from the cramping and my mom holding as we walked out, I felt better knowing that this all was going to be over. I took pill right after dinner and went to my room that night. I took both the pill and the pain medication at the same time. I remember waiting. Just waiting to feel what my doctor said I could expect to feel. My mom stayed with me in my room that night. We cuddled and she held me like a baby. There’s nothing greater than the touch and affection of a mother’s love. We both fell asleep for about an hour, and then it came. That pressure, that pain, that my doctor was talking about….I FELT IT ALL. I tossed and turned, tossed and turned, tossed and turned for about a good twenty to twenty-five minutes. I finally got up to go to the bathroom and my mom followed behind to make sure I was okay.
The moment I got up, it was almost as if I could feel it detaching itself from my uterus. As I sat down on the toilet, I felt the pressure of it trying to push through. I could feel my cervix dilate, I could feel this form of life coming out of me. My heart was racing, my body temperature started rising, I could even feel myself start to hyperventilate. Moments later, it was over. I felt the sac finally push itself out and come out. My body still pouring blood and other bodily fluids from this pregnancy, and in all of this…I felt my body go into a relaxation.
“Are you okay?”My mom asked me.
“Yeah, I think I am. I think it’s over.”I said.
I finally got up, looked down, and saw…life. All I could do was cry. Just…just cry. Yeah…cry. As my mom held me, she started crying with me. As we are both crying, my dad comes downstairs, and hugs us both. In this moment, all I thought was, “is it really over? Did I really just experience, birth? Labor?” It’s unfortunate that I did under these circumstances, however, it was the most beautiful and humbling experiences I have ever had. It was my second best experience that I have ever felt the closest to God. That was the night that I experienced the power of being a woman. Within a matter of two to three ours, I went from a young lady to a young woman and it’s all because He had a plan all this time.
He knew from the moment Shawn and I conceived, to the moment I found out I was pregnant and was scared, that not only was I not ready to be a parent, but I was not ready to make a decision that I would have had to live with for the rest of my life, and take to my grave. I did not have to make the decision to grow up fast and become a responsible parent, when I was really just still a child myself. I did not have to make the decision of having an abortion. He made the decision for me the moment He felt my suffering, my uncertainty, and my fear, and to this day, whether it was an abnormal pregnancy or not, embryo or not, fetus or not, I know that my unborn child is somewhere with Him and living the best life that he or she could ever live.
God’s work is something that you don’t earn and you can’t buy, it’s just something that is given when He hears your cry and feels your pain.
The Diary of a Military Wife ~ The Start of a Life Changing Experience
It was the winter of 2015, mid December, when I found out I was pregnant, and you know something, there was a part of me before then, that knew I was pregnant. It wasn’t so much of a thought that I had, it was more so of a spiritual and physical feeling that I had. For a lack of better words, it was an intuition.
My body felt different and my spirit felt different, therefore I knew something about me as a woman was different. However, from the moment I got home in the first week of December, I was not one hundred percent positive that I was. I remember calling Shawn and talking to him about how I was feeling. I specifically remember telling him that I was late on my period, but we didn’t want to jump to conclusions just yet. I’m famous for stressing out over the smallest things, in which ladies we all know that stress can cause a late period. So, we agreed to wait for about a week or two until I took a test.
Well, a week or two goes by, and I finally decided to go out to the store and get a test. I was nervous about taking it at home, so I went to a department store’s public bathroom to do it, I took my pregnancy test in Kohl’s. It was my first time taking a pregnancy test. I have never been so nervous. Although the line was very faint and a grayish blueish color, it was one hundred percent positive. My stomach dropped, my legs became weak, my heart started racing, and my eyes started to water. I sat down on the stall with my the palms of my hands in my face and tears just started flooding my hands.
An older woman in the bathroom could hear me in the bathroom stall sobbing and crying, “Ma’am…are you okay?”she asked me.
I stood up and walked out of the stall and said to her, “yes, I am fine thank you. Can I ask you a question?”I said to her.
Showing her the faint grayish blueish line of the pregnancy test, “I have never taken one of these before, how accurate would you say this is?”I asked her.
She looks down at the test and says to me, “it’s accurate, any type of discoloration of the line on a pregnancy test means it’s accurate, and the faint line could just mean that you are very early in your pregnancy. What are you going to do?”She asked me.
“Honestly, I have no idea.”I replied to her.
“Well, I know we don’t know each other, but I know you are probably scared and confused about what decision to make, so if you need anything here’s my phone number. I have a daughter about your age who is going through the same thing, call me if you ever feel like you need someone to talk to.”She gave me a hug, I said “thank you” and she walked away.
I traveled not too far behind her, heading to my car. I sat in my car for an hour to an hour and a half just crying. I had so many thoughts running through my head in that moment.
My first initial thought was, “oh my God, my parents are going to be so angry with me.” My second thought, “Shawn is not going to stick around for this. He barely even knows me, why would he stick around to help me raise a child across the country?”
After sitting in my car in the Kohl’s parking lot for an hour, I finally headed home. I walked in the house acting completely normal. My dad was upstairs on his computer doing his work and my mom wasn’t home yet from her job. I went into the kitchen grabbed a snack and a glass of iced tea and went upstairs to my bedroom, to cry again. As I started to cry again, I text Shawn and said, “Babe, I took a test. I think you should call me.”Not long after I texted him, he called me.
“What did the test say?”He asked.
“It’s positive.” I replied.
For a moment there was nothing but complete silence over the phone.
Crying and trembling over the phone I softly said to him, “please say something. I’m scared and I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid of what my parents will do and say, and I am afraid of what you might do.”
“Baby, calm down. Do you trust me?”He asked me.
“Then trust me when I say that I’m not going anywhere and that we are going to figure this out together. I love you.”He responded.
It was in that moment that I knew that Shawn and I were meant to be together. In that moment, he gave me reassurance, comfort, stability, safety, and love. We agreed to tell my parents that night. He knew how important it was to me to not keep it a secret from them. First I told my dad, who did not appear to be angry, but I could tell he was disappointed. Then I told my mom, who just cried like a baby, and stayed in her bedroom all night. I have never felt so ashamed and so embarrassed in my life.
About a week after I found out I was pregnant, Shawn and I started discussing some plans of what we were going to do. Yes, as painful as it is for me to admit it, abortion was our first plan, and him and I were both set on that plan. Deep down I didn’t want to have to make that decision. I was not ready to be a parent nor was he ready. So, to make things better in the event I wouldn’t be able to follow through with the abortion, going full term and considering adoption was our second plan. Finally, our third plan would have been to just grow the fuck up, I move to California with him, and I have the baby out there and we raise the baby together. If the truth be told, I did not like neither one of those plans. I was scared to become a parent, I was scared to raise a child with someone I barely knew, not only that I was fucking scared of giving birth dude!!!!
In order to take the next step with the abortion, I had to know how many weeks I was in my pregnancy. So, I made an appointment with Planned Parenthood, in which that’s where I would have gotten my abortion done. Yes, you read that right, would have…keep reading. I went with my dad to my appointment in Harrisburg, PA. When I got into my appointment and they did the ultrasound, they found something yet odd and very strange. They determined that I was about ten weeks pregnant. However, there was no embryo and therefore no heartbeat. All they found was the amniotic sac with no embryo. I asked the nurse what it meant, and she said to me, that my pregnancy is very abnormal and was nothing that she has never seen before.
She still gave me the option of proceeding with an abortion, however, because I was so sketchy about the information I received and more scared and confused, told her that I wanted a second opinion and that I would consult with my gynecologist. I walked out of Planned Parenthood that day, with no abortion and strangely what seemed like no baby either. That same day I made an appointment with my doctor. Unfortunately for me, because it was close to the holiday’s and she was entirely booked up until Christmas, I was not able to see her until after the New Year.
I tried not to freak out and make a big deal about it so I tried to stay as calm as possible and deal with the fact that I might be dealing with an abnormal pregnancy for another two weeks, until something strange started happening to my body. A few days after the New Year passed and as I was leaving the gym one night, I felt a slight cramp just below my abdomen. I went back into the gym to use the bathroom and all I found was some light spotting of blood. Panicking in the bathroom stall, I called my mom and told her what was going on and what I was feeling like.
“Do you need me and father to come and get you or do you think you can make it home?”She asked me.
“No, I think I’m okay. I can drive home. I’ll be there soon.”I said to her.
The cramping continued later on that night into the next day, but it was not as bad as you would think, it was more like a slight period cramp, which can be normal in some pregnancies. Later on that evening I talked to Shawn over the phone and told him how I haven’t been feeling well, and that I was cramping, feeling nauseous, and this time bleeding. The cramping had gotten worse and the bleeding began to pick up more and more. He and my mom both suggested that I should bump my appointment with my doctor to a day sooner, which I figured was a pretty good idea considering the information I received from Planned Parenthood, now I’m bleeding? What the heck is going on here?
That next morning I called my doctor’s office and asked them if I could move my date up sooner. The soonest they could get me in was a day early than my scheduled appointment. I figured, “well that’s better than nothing, so I will take that.” They recommended that I wear pads if the bleeding gets anymore heavy and to take Tylenol if the pain continued, and if all else failed….head to the emergency room. It was about midnight, four days after the New Year, and it was that night when my entire life flashed before my eyes. I was awaken out of my sleep from the most excruciating pain that I have ever felt in my entire life.
Barely getting out of my bed, I struggled crawling to the bathroom. I managed to make it to the toilet, but once I was there, hunched over, I could not move. The pain was so bad it felt as if someone had stabbed me in my lower abdomen and was twisting the knife around. Every second and every minute the pain got worse, and for every second and every minute of that pain, more and more blood came from my body. I yelled for my mom and dad, awaken out of their sleep, my mom came rushing downstairs only to find blood in and on the toilet and me hunched in a ball.
My dad followed not too far behind her. He didn’t need another second to think. He picked me up like a baby, carried me downstairs, and put me in the back of the car. The next thing I knew we were on our way to emergency room. In that moment, that was the first time I ever felt the closest to God himself. All I could do was just ask Him to please take the pain away, please just end this for me, because I couldn’t handle it. I just wanted it to all be over.