• Will my story include healing?

    You hear it a lot, “pray and it’ll be answered”,  -but what if it isn’t? I believe in the power of prayer. There’s no doubt in my mind prayer works. An answered prayer is a true miracle.  But, do I believe every single prayer is answered? Yes, and no. I do not believe He always answers our prayers with the outcome we pray for.  God hears every single prayer, but I believe that God sometime’s says, not yet, and sometimes even no.  I recently read the story of the two blind men in the Bible. Matthew 9:27-31 27 As Jesus went on from there, two blind men followed him, shouting, “Have mercy on…

  • You are enough for motherhood.

    I used to dream of being a mom. I could not wait to embark on that journey. But then my journey with a chronic illness began. I was 18, in college, and single, so I never thought much of my future as a mom. I then started dating, and the thought of being a mom would come and go from my mind. I’d ask myself if I even thought it would be possible. I considered all my options- adoption, surrogacy, and pregnancy. I knew ultimately I wanted to be a mom no matter how that came about, but I really desired to carry my own child. A few years into…

  • A Letter to God From The Girl That Desperately Wants to be Healthy.

    God,  I hate this. I used to say that I hated you because of unanswered prayers. I’m sorry- I don’t hate you. I just hate this. The pain. The unanswered tests. The unanswered prayers. The longing to be healthy. I never used to despise medication until I relied on it every day. I never used to want to cry with medication changes. Now that I take three medications, 5 1/2 pills, a day, just to create a [hopefully] well beating heart that day, is exhausting.  It might not seem bad to others, but every morning, and every night I have to take pills to correct an organ that should be able…

  • I am not okay- yet.

    Today started out not so good. Long story short, I broke down in tears in the bathroom (even though I shed a few at my desk). For the first time I realized how much this was affecting me, and how I can no longer hide it.  I never like to tell people how much this is affecting me. No one knows how bad it really is. Not my family, my friends, or even this blog. People will tell me, I’m so sorry, I hope you get better.  All I can think is- if they only knew.  If they only knew that what they see is a front. What they see is the me…