Update on our Journey to have a Child

I'm feeling very tired right now. Emotionally speaking. We've had quite a few changes recently, including some really big ones just this week. An awesome high, followed by what right now feels like a crippling low. I use writing as a way to sort through information I receive and understand how I am actually feeling. Since I no longer keep a diary, this blog has become an important tool for me emotionally. So, bear with me as I process.

As most know, I had surgery in November to remove a large fibroid. Statistically, our odds for conception increase quite a bit in the 6 months following surgery. Then they take a big hit (because of scar tissue) after that 6 month mark. Due to the uterine incisions, we have to wait 3 months for healing before we can actually start trying. We had the green light for the beginning of March. We've spent those months we were waiting (and many months before) eating clean, using supplements to replace vitamins that are very low in my body, and trying to naturally support my thyroid condition. I have an awesome doctor who has helped me make tremendous progress to rectify the issues going on in my body. However, despite every effort, multiple parts of my endocrine system continue to fail. I would see slight improvement and then it would disappear. For those who aren't familiar, your endocrine system is comprised of the glands that control hormone production- like your pituitary, thyroid, adrenals, ovaries/testes, and pancreas. There are other parts to the endocrine system, but these are the ones in which I seem to be having issues. My wonderful doctor recommended a particularly knowledgeable midwife she knows to see what help she could offer.

I met with her on Tuesday. If there were a scale that had natural medicine on one end and western medicine on the other, this woman would fall closer to the western medicine end than I do. I try very hard to stay middle of the road and find the right balance between the two. So, with her being a little more pro-pharmaceutical than I am, I felt a little uneasy. I had to remind myself the suggestion that she may be able to offer help came after months of fervent prayer seeking an answer to this issue. So, I kept an open mind. She ordered multiple labs and thoroughly went through my entire history. We talked about a lot of things going on and what to expect- both positive and negative- and she then sent me home with some tools that would offer a serious boost to our fertility. That was exciting. But, she gave me something even better. She gave me time. She explained to me that it is natural (and possible) for women to have babies into their fifties. The inability for this to happen is a modern problem. I will skip all the details on why fertility has taken such a hit. I could fill an entire blog with that. She reminded me that if you strip any living creature (including humans) down to their most basic features, they are- stay alive and reproduce. Supported correctly, our bodies can accomplish those two rudimentary tasks. The past 10 years of my life have just been a countdown to 40. At 40, the door to having children will likely shut, and we just have to move on. This woman opened that door back up for me. She gave me another 11 years. It changed everything. I could finally exhale.

Then Friday morning, I received an email on a gene mutation linked to thyroid conditions that don't respond to treatment. It intrigued me enough that I decided to read it. It is called the MTHFR gene. It is a very common gene mutation. I've read varying reports on how common- some say 1 in 10 people have some form, some say as many as 1 in 2. But, what stood out most is 98% of people with autoimmune thyroid conditions (both Graves and Hashimotos) have some form of this gene mutation. So, if you have a thyroid condition or suspect you do based on symptoms, I very strongly urge you to get tested for this gene mutation. Warning science ahead...if you are not into that, skip to the next paragraph. And please forgive my crude explanation, I'm not a geneticist, but I will give a very basic description. The MTHFR gene takes up two spots- the 677 gene and the 1298 gene. Research show those with the 677 mutation have an increased rate of certain types of cancer, blood clots, peripheral neuropathy, anemia, miscarriage, infertility, birth defects (most often neural tube, cleft palate/lip, and down syndrome), heart attack, stroke, and thyroid conditions (among other things, the list is much longer than this). Those with the 1298 mutation have increased rates of autism, depression, fibromyalgia, ADHD, IBS, Chron's Disease, OCD, migraines, memory issues, and mental illness. I'm going to skip all the details on what this gene does and how the mutation effects the body. It is far too much info to include here. If you are interested in why this mutation causes such havoc in the body, the internet is full of very detailed descriptions.

After battling infertility for almost 10 years, I have learned to disregard most of what I read. I would (and have) driven myself crazy pursing each thing that came along. But, this one felt different to me. Based on labs I had done previously that lined up with the warning signs, I needed to pursue this. I reached out to the midwife I saw on Tuesday and asked her if she would be willing to order this test for me. As soon as I sent it, I remembered I already had my DNA info. When I was recovering from surgery, I spent a lot of time doing our genealogy. For fun, I ordered the DNA test. After I did a little digging, I found I could download the raw genome data. There are multiple non profits that allow you to upload your raw genome data to their system, they send it back to you in a way you can read. I don't know what they do with my genetic data afterwards. I didn't really care. I just wanted an answer. And I got it. I do in fact have the MTHFR gene mutation. I have what is called a compound heterozygous mutation. Which means I have 1 mutated gene in both the 677 and the 1298 spot. It also means that the series of events that this gene is responsible for in my body is only operating at 50%. Which presents some issues. But once you know you have it, there are ways to work around it. When I got the results back I cried. From relief, not from sadness. I have spent so long clawing forward trying to find an answer, I couldn't help but feel relief to finally get it. Then the reality of it started to settle in. This tiny, little, common mutation has set off a chain of events in my body that has put us in a really bad spot. One that I can't fix with a clean diet, or essential oils, or herbal infusions. This will never go away. If we were to move forward, as is, and start trying to get pregnant the beginning of March as we had planned, the odds are very high we would continue to be unsuccessful. And if by some miracle we were able to get pregnant, the odds are even higher that pregnancy would result in miscarriage or a child with one of the birth defects mentioned above. There are specific medications I can take, things I have to avoid, and lifestyle changes that must be made which will allow me to work around this issue. Then there are additional steps to take during pregnancy so that I would be able to carry to term. So, I'm adding all those in to the stuff I already do. And I have to give those time to build up before I can even attempt trying to get pregnant. At least 4 months. Which puts us outside of our 6 month window from the surgery. That hurts. But, it's not just that. I'm feeling especially defeated today because I believe Trotter has this same mutation. Knowing how common it is and that he has the same abnormal lab results I do- which are linked to this mutation- I know we need to get him tested. I'm just afraid to see the results. It feels like just when I crawl back onto my feet, something sweeps my legs out from under me again. So, finding out he has it as well would just be another painful blow. Battling this from both sides would not be easy. And no amount of clean living can change our genetic makeup. If we're able to get and stay pregnant, we will likely pass these mutated genes on. Is it selfish and irresponsible to move forward having our own child when we know up front we could be saddling this child with some pretty serious issues? I think it probably is. But that doesn't mean I have to walk away from the thing that means the most to me. Because I serve a God that is so much bigger than the defect in my body. He, not our genes, determines whether or not we have a child. And I trust Him without equivocation. I just have to keep ahold of His hand and move in the direction He leads me. God is good. Always.

Our God is bigger than our giants; He is bigger than our circumstances. He has measured out all the earth’s water in the palm of a cupped hand. He has counted the grains of dirt on this earth, and knows the weight of each mountain. He can pick up entire islands as if they are specks of sand. He stretched out the skies like curtains and spread them above our heads as a tent. He placed each star in the sky, and each one shines in its place. Because He said it should be so. (Isaiah 40:12-15,22,26)

Walking dogs for a baby?

So, I always show up on here when I need to get emotions out of my head. Its like an online diary I shamelessly share with the world. Good thing that doesn't bother me.

As everyone on the planet now knows we have been trying, quite unsuccessfully, to have a child. Last week was 9 years on the nose. When you spend that long living in a state of grief, you become a professional at hiding how you feel for the sake of the world around you. No one likes a Debbie Downer. The world wants you to just suck it up and move on. And that's exactly what I pretend to do. And it's gotten somewhat easier. Thankfully, the ugly crying, knee buckling, soul crushing disappointment that came around every single month subsided after the first 5 or so years. As a matter of fact, a lot of the emotional baggage that comes along with infertility has gotten much easier to tote around as the years go on. Except one thing. The lack of hope. Every year we get another year older and the dream of having our own child gets further out of reach. By about 35, after our last failed IVF, I had officially depleted all my stored reserves of hope. And I've just been running on fumes the past few years, borrowing little bits from family/friends here and there. But still, at my core, completely and utterly with out hope. Until now. For the first time in many, many years, I have a renewed sense of hope. And all I had to do was give up the white knuckle, control freak, death grip I have on my life.

In all of these years of praying (read: sobbing and begging) for a baby, for answers, for some kind of direction, I refused to listen to the very clear answer I kept getting- "I've got this." (Yes, my God says things like "Stay in your lane, I've got this" Let's just keep moving). I feel as though if I don't keep a death grip on every single thing in my life, it will all just spin out of control. I need to steer the direction of absolutely everything. Even things that are irrelevant. I am the true definition of a control freak. But, miraculously, I had a break through this week. I had some time to take a step back and look at things from a broader angle and see how each barrier, each one of my failed control freak decisions, has still managed to move me to the same outcome. Despite my valiant effort to keep running things off in the ditch, God has patiently kept me on the road, moving forward, waiting for me to finally catch on. And so a few nights ago, I decided I'm going to let go. It's time to give up control. With me at the helm, we've gotten absolutely nowhere. What makes me think I know what I'm doing anyway? Am I really prideful enough to believe that I'm going to do a better job at this? I'm not. And I wouldn't. So, today is week 1 of a death grip free Jodi. And however my life spins off, I have faith that it will spin the way it is supposed to. I just have to get out of my own way.

It is a very different feeling when you follow God's plan, instead of your own. There is more confidence in your decision making. And so, I'm feeling very confident in this new plan that's been put in front of me to help us finally have a child. There is just one more hurdle. And I know that if I'm indeed heading the right way, God will remove it. Which is probably why I felt so compelled to write this. While this new path I'm on is without a doubt the least expensive thing I've done in the pursuit of a child, it still requires disposable income that we don't have right now. So, I'm throwing out once last pitch to see if anyone needs their dogs walked a few times a week- or any of the other things RB does. (www.retrobettys.com) Hence the weird title of this blog. Dog walking for a Trotter baby. That's what I'm doing. The more money I'm earning, the faster I can move things along. Patience has never been one of my virtues. But, if I'm not able to get my RB business up to a FT work load, I will give up this dream in pursuit of a much bigger one and go back to the "normal" work force. Having a child is my #1 goal. But, Betty is without question my number 2. I LOVE what I do and I hate to give it up when I've gotten about 3/4 of the way up this hill. But, I will do it if that's what it takes to make us parents.

Mother's Day

I'm glad yesterday is over. Mother's Day sucks for a lot of people. For people who have lost their mother or child, this day can be a reminder of grief. For people who have a bad relationship with their mother, this day can be a reminder of that discontentment. And for people who are battling infertility, this day is a reminder of that longing. A neon flashing sign that your life is incomplete. In your heart you are already a mother, but your reality doesn't reflect that. And there is zero you can do about it.

It's not that I don't like Mother's Day. It's not that I'm bitter or envious of those who can joyfully celebrate it. It's just a painful reminder. A reminder that my life isn't what I wanted. A reminder of the grief I battle for someone I've never even met. A reminder that if it ever really does happen, we will be the old parents. The ones that get mistaken for grandparents at soccer games. A reminder that we are so far behind, the window to catch up is just about closed.

I don't want to take away from the spirit of Mother's Day. I think it is great there is a day set aside to appreciate mothers. I'm thankful for a day to appreciate my amazing mom. And I'm thankful I have a husband who recognizes what's in my heart, even though my arms may be empty. I have a lot of to be thankful for. But, right now, I'm especially thankful yesterday is over.

Dogs, the plague, and my happiness

You know that feeling of panic you get when you decide to do something that is scary and overwhelming, but necessary to your well being? Well, I made one of those kind of decisions today...or at least decided to pull the trigger on it today. This decision has been years in the making. After Rosco died, I promised myself that I was going to start a foundation to help dogs in crisis. I laid a lot of the ground work and then just stopped. I had a brand new puppy and a brand new business and just got side tracked. However, it is very clear to me that my need to help dogs isn't something I can ignore. I have a purpose. A purpose I've been aware of since I was 7 years old. A purpose that God never let's me forget about. When life gets busy and I am doing nothing to help dogs, I'm not happy.

We stopped fostering 6 months ago. Trotter has made it pretty clear we aren't going to be fostering again. He thinks Beans would be afraid. This is the same Beans who comes home crusty because he spends his entire day at school with is head happily inside the mouth of a large dog. He's over it. Trotter clearly isn't. So, we aren't a fostering family anymore. But then what do I do with this hole in my soul?

This is the right time. I'm finally going to follow through on something that's been on my heart for many years. Today I will start the last phase of getting this non profit going- the St Roch Foundation. For the non Catholics in the room, St Roch is the patron saint of dogs. St Roch cared for plague victims. He eventually contracted the plague and went off into the woods to die. A local dog began to bring him food and lick his wounds, which eventually healed. This is why he is always pictured with a dog...and a gross knee wound. I did, however, chose a less leprosy-ish picture for this organization. Even though St Roch is also the patron saint of cholera and plague, I'm just going to focus on the dog part.

The focus of this organization will be to provide financial assistance to help dogs in crisis. Part 1: Shelters. We will provide grants to local shelters who need help paying for a rescue's necessary medical treatments, expenses to improve quality of life in permanently disabled dogs, and also for help with shelter improvements/expansion so that more dogs can be rescued. Part 2: Pet Owners/Good Samaritans. We will provide financial assistance to cover life saving medical treatments in dogs who have a good prognosis for a healthy life, but who's owner lacks the financial means to offer the needed care.

I will be spending the next 4-6 months selling my St Roch rosaries, bracelets, and necklaces, as well as St Roch and St Francis collars and tags. 100% of the money from these sales will go towards setting up the 501(c)3, incorporation, website, etc. In this time I will also be looking for volunteers who are as passionate about this as I am and would like to sit on the board. If that sounds like you, please let me know!

In the mean time, I would love you forever if you would like the facebook page here https://www.facebook.com/strochfoundation and even more if you'd like to join this cause.

Super Beans

I need an outlet for how I'm feeling. So, I decided to blog. Given the fact that the 6 hours of sleep I've had over 5 consecutive nights was full of nightmares and given my high levels of anxiety and continued panic attacks since Beans was hurt- I am assuming at this point I'm dealing with some kind of post traumatic stress. I'm hoping this will provide me the outlet I need to release some of this and start sleeping again. With that being said, I am really quite amazed at what the body can withstand. The mothering instinct is strong and allows you to do things you wouldn't normally be capable of. My body doesn't seem to care that Beans and I are not of the same species. I am his mother nonetheless and my body has kicked in to beast mode allowing me to function (fairly normally, I think) with virtually no sleep and a couple days with zero food. It's impressive what the human body can do. But, what is even more impressive is what God is doing in Beans little 25lb body.

We had a follow up appointment with the vet today. Everyone is impressed that Beans has come so far in just a few days. But what has amazed everyone the most is that he survived. This type of attack isn't usually survived. There was no indicators of a dog fight. Just pure kill strike. Puncture wounds only to his throat. She was trying to kill him. I don't know how Beans survived the attack itself. It doesn't make sense that she would stop attacking. I don't know if Beans went limp and she thought he was dead or if the attack stopped when she heard the garage door go up. All I know is any longer and Beans would not have made it. Miracle #1. It seems everyone at the vet's office agrees that Beans surviving the first 24 hours after the attack was pretty surprising. Given the type of attack and the injuries he sustained, it is amazing he survived not only the attack itself, but the severe injuries after. Miracle #2.

Beans is a special dog. When we got him we were at 6 full years of failed pregnancies, failed IUI's, and failed IVFs. He became the outlet I needed for all my pent up mothering. It did not matter that he was a dog, it didn't matter that I didn't give birth to him, it didn't matter that people thought I was crazy. I was his mother and he was my child. He came into my life at the exact moment I needed him. He saved me from losing my mind. I've always loved every dog I've had like a member of my family. But, with Beans it was different. We are bonded in a totally different way.

That is why this has been the most traumatic, difficult experience of my life. And I've been through tradgedy. I lost my brother under horrific circumstances and I lost my grandmother who was an integral part of my life. Those experiences were horrible and painful. But, this is pain, guilt, sickness, anxiety, and misery on a whole different level. Maybe it just feels that way because this is current and the pain of those experiences is not as fresh in my mind. Maybe it is because I feel directly responsible for Beans' suffering. I'm the one person on this planet who would lay my life down for him and I let this happen to him. I brought the monster into our home. Maybe that is what is making this tradedy feel so impossible to overcome.

I'm trying to focus on the positive. He survived. He doesn't seem to have any brain injuries. He's healing from his puncture wounds very quickly. But, then I look at him and see him struggle to walk. I see his inability to lift his head. The trauma to his throat has taken away his ability to vocalize. Everytime he drinks water, he aspirates some because of the damage to his throat. My spunky, funny, silly little boy is gone and may never come back and I could have prevented the whole thing. The course of his life is forever changed because I failed him.

For those who were kind enough to pray for Beans, I ask that you please continue. I'm convinced that is the only thing that has gotten us this far. But, we've still got a long road ahead of us. I feel like I'm pushing it asking for more. Look at how much we've already been given- he survived an unsurvivable attack, he's healing so fast. Is it okay to keep asking for more or should I just be content he's made it this far? I just need my old Beans back. So, I'm going to keep praying for him. Please pray that he doesn't have permanent nerve damage in multiple areas of his head and neck. Please pray that this laryngeal paralysis is only temporary. Please pray that he doesn't develop pneumonia. Please pray that he doesn't live with a life long fear of other animals because of this. Please pray that he comes out of this the same sweet, loving, funny, intellegent, athletic boy he was before. I just need him to be okay.

The Death of Polite Society

I have 100 other things I should be doing right now. But, I'm incredibly distracted and won't be able to refocus until I purge. Polite society is officially dead. Forgo the paddles, roll away the respirator, there is no hope- she's dead as a door nail.

The social climate is much different today than it was 50 years ago. And worlds different than it was 100 years ago. So, we can't really expect Emily Post's etiquette rules to apply as seamlessly today as they may have in the last century. We are a much more casual society. It used to be considered taboo to even mention a friend's name while out in public. Discretion was of utmost importance. Now we have people who broadcast their entire lives on reality tv. Outlets such as Facebook, Twitter, and blogging have allowed us to throw our thoughts and opinions at anyone and everyone. For better or worse, what's acceptable has changed. Social media isn't designed to mimic polite dinner conversation. How entertaining is it to read a polite, unoffensive facebook update? The interesting posts are the ones with discourse, controversy, or inappropriate humor. Things have changed. I love reality tv and I love Facebook. So, although both may represent the breakdown of a civil society, I'm not mad at it. I can enjoy my train ride into this boorish existence with the rest of you. But, there are some things from the ghost of polite societies past that I refuse to loosen my grip on. These are non-negotiable musts. If these don't start to make a resurgence, I'm seceding from society and becoming a recluse.

1. Offer up your seat If you are sitting (waiting room at doctor, waiting on a table at dinner, wherever)and someone walks in with gray hair, pregnant, or holding a small child- offer them your seat. Always, period, the end.

2. Hold the door This is not one of those mysterious rules of etiquette that no one is aware of. Unless you are a jackhole, you hold the door when someone is behind you. Don't be that person who just lets it shut. And if someone holds the door for you, look them in the eye and say thank you. Don't just walk out like you are royalty. Here is the tricky part- how far behind you should someone be before you let it shut? We've all been there. Awkwardly holding the door and the person feels the need to jog up to the door. 10 ft or more behind you- awkward. Unless they are old, disabled, or in uniform. In which case, I would slow my pace, so that I could hold the door without creating the weird jog to the door situation. Ditto all the above for elevators. If you can see them, hold the elevator.

And one more thing, this is something my dad and my nephew are both very good at, when there is a group entering a place- men (or boys even) hold the door, stand back, and let everyone walk in. Don't open the door, walk through, and release the door to the person behind you. Be a gentleman. I realize women aren't supposed to want that anymore. But, I don't care. There is nothing more disgusting than an ill mannered man and nothing more adorable than a young boy who knows how to be a gentleman.

3. Eat dinner as a family I did not eat dinner on a couch in front of a television until I was living on my own. Growing up, we ate dinner- every single night- at the dinner table. It is where I learned basic table manners- Don't wear a hat, don't sing at the dinner table, and don't eat like a pig at the trough. Which fork to use when, which glass for what- Unless you plan to dine with the queen, none of that matters. What matters is that you can sit down at a table, put a napkin in your lap, take polite sized bites, and chew with your mouth closed. It may be hard to teach that while sitting on the couch watching Honey Boo Boo Child. (Lord save us if those people represent the etiquette knowledge of the masses in America.) A few other bits of dining etiquette- used silverware shouldn't touch the table. It should rest on your plate. And if you are in a fine dining restaurant- they should always serve from the left and clear from the right. If you go to St Elmo's, now you know which way to lean. You are welcome.

4. Say please and thank you It is one of the first rules we learn as a kid, but adults seem to forget how important it is. When you are out to eat and the waitress comes and refills your water, look at her in the face like she exists, and say thank you. When you are rolling through the drive through and the woman taking your money says, "Hi, how are you today?" Say, "I'm doing well, thank you. How are you?" Unless you are my husband, in which case you say, "fine" and shove your money out the window. It drives me crazy. I don't care how she's doing today anymore than she cares how I'm doing. But, it feels good to be nice to each other.

5. Gifts and Thank You Notes I feel like I need to dive into a little bit of old etiquette first before broaching this. When a wedding invitation was received (or more specifically an invitation to the reception), the invited guest knew proper decorum dictated that a gift should be sent whether or not they were able to attend. Brides would register for their china pattern, etc, but broadcasting where they were registered was considered the height of bad taste. It was up to the mother, sister, or friends of the bride to let guests know where the bride was registered when asked. And considerate guests made an effort to find out what the bride wanted. I could spend an entire blog on proper wedding etiquette, so I'm just going to fast forward to present day. Some genius corporation somewhere in the 90s decided to start making registry cards to put into invitations to steer shoppers their direction...and simultaneously trample over what little manners remained. I realize those cards are meant for convenience. But, being polite is never the quick, easy route. It takes time and effort and there is nothing wrong with that. I realize I am the only person in America who is bothered by those cards, so don't send me hate mail. I've thrown many showers and always cringe when I'm given those cards to put into the invitations. I only relent when there are others helping me with the shower and I can blame them. If it just me throwing the shower, those cards go in the trash. I refuse to have my name associated with something I find so crude. Because, all though 99% of people would be more irritated by not receiving the card than by receiving it, there may be one more old soul out there desperately clinging to tradition who gets that invitation and thinks that I don't know any better. I can't live with that. I've went on about this too long. In closing, death to all registry cards. Burn them all.

Now, thank you notes. Everyone knows they should send thank you notes after weddings and showers. Used to, you should send them out within 2 weeks. But, now with fancy honeymoons and such, you really need to send them within a month. But, thank you notes are needed beyond just the wedding and baby stuff. It is never wrong to send a thank you note, but here is a good rule of thumb -anytime someone goes out of their way for you, send a thank you note. It shows you weren't raised by wolves.

Here are my grandma's rules for writing a thank you note:
- It should be hand written- including the envelope
- It should be sent in a timely manner
- It should reference the gift given
- If money was given, do not reference the amount, but say how you plan to use it

Alright, I think I'm done. I feel better. There are far more things I could talk about, but these are the ones that seem to irritate me the most. Oh wait, one more. Don't swear loudly in public. It makes you look like white trash.

Unanswered Prayers

I am battling a fever today, so apologies if this lacks clarity or my normal snarky wit.

Memorial weekend we were with friends, casually discussing my new business, and someone said something along the lines of "without your struggle to conceive, this business may have never happened." It is something I haven't been able to quit thinking about. It was something that hadn't even crossed my mind until that moment. Had we gotten pregnant anytime over the past 7 years, Retro Betty's would never have come into being.

It has been my struggle to conceive that has shown me how much strength and determination I actually have. It has been my struggle to conceive that pushed me into years of research that has given me the knowledge base I would need for this type of business. It has been my struggle to conceive that has shone a spotlight on a problem that needs fixed. And it is my struggle to conceive that drives my ravenous desire to educate everyone I come into contact with about the things they are unknowingly being exposed to.

I've always tried to keep in mind that God uses trials for good. I secretly knew that these years of torment would teach me a valuable lesson or serve some greater good. But, I sort of resented that. I didn't want a lesson, I didn't want to learn anything, and I didn't want to be the person who uses her heartache to help others. I just wanted to be a normal person. A normal person with a baby.

It has just been over the past week and a half that I have been able to look at something that seemed so unfair from a different side. A side that helps it make sense. Things that seemed random and unrelated now all tie together and have built something that never would have existed without my heartache.

I'm not throwing in the towel and saying this realization has changed what I want. It hasn't. I would give up anything to be able to have a child. But, it is comforting to feel like your pain has a purpose. It lights a fire. It pushes me to share what I know with as many as I can.

Retro Betty's is something out of nothing. It came into being on its own. It isn't something I pushed to create. It's something that was given to me. I now believe it is something that God had in store for me all along. The speed at which it has grown shocks me. And I'm still just scratching the surface. There isn't a doubt in my heart that nurtured correctly, it will grow into a largely successful company. Maybe it is my consolation prize?

Even though I didn't get what I wanted, and may never get it, I've been given something wonderfully rewarding to focus on. For right now, that is enough.