Living and Loving Out Loud

I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia approximately 12 years ago. At the time, I wasn't even able to lift a coffee pot. I was able to manage and maintain it at a lower level for a few years in between then and now. But the past couple of years have brought a great amount of trauma, stress, and grief; which has exacerbated it again. My diet and mental health is not great, although it is on the upswing again. Fibromyalgia is real. My symptoms are real. My pain is real and unending. But I have not and refuse to succumb to it. This IS fixable. Not just "manageable". It will be a process, but one I am willing to and NEED to endure. I know there is a lot of things contributing to the cause, and it will be like peeling the layers of an onion. I have many emotional issues that need to be addressed, as well.  I anticipate the tone of this beat to reflect much of how my emotional state is at the moment- sometimes raw, sometimes emotionless (as I compartmentalize some things to deal wit

One year ago today, we announced our greatest blessing. One week later, we would announce our greatest heartbreak. Not knowing we would have the same type of heartbreak again three months later. I am forever changed. I miss my babies every day. As I sat in the waiting room today for my boyfriend's therapy appointment, which is shared space for a pediatric office, it was difficult not to think about or wonder what might have been. What never will be. We lost more than our babies. We lost our toddlers, our preteens, our teenagers. We lost cries and diaper changes; playing peek a boo and patty cake; first words and first steps; hearing mama and dada, then mommy and daddy, mom and dad. We lost dance recitals and sports practices; video games and puzzles; teaching them to count and their abc's; singing lullabies and silly songs; embarrassing them by hugging them too much and then angering them by saying the wrong things. Teaching them kindness and res

I donated blood for the first time yesterday! A bit of backstory: when I was two years old, I was diagnosed with a rare bleeding disorder. Only one parent had to have the disorder (my mom), but both parents have to carry the gene. I was not allowed to participate in sports or many common things growing up- against doctors' orders. They were always afraid I would get hit or fall and have internal bleeding. No sports. No owning a bicycle. Against the doctors' wishes and after my pleading, my mom did allow me to take gymnastics and acrobatics. Dance was good because it was relatively no-contact and therefore classified as "safe". Absolutely, under no circumstances, was I to have surgery. This was discovered as I was being wheeled back to surgery for a tonsillectomy- one of the doctors literally ran across the hospital to stop the surgeon and told my parents "there's not a doctor in the country who would touch her with a 10-foot pole". And they didn

Welcome! I have started a handful of blogs before but never had the encouragement or motivation to continue them on a regular basis. Living and Loving Out Loud has been in my heart and mind for years- I actually created a site on WordPress in 2013- but the timing of the content just felt out of place. I have since had the worst year of my life- and continue to struggle- and I am at a point where I need to speak about it. Not to vent. Not to complain.  To share.  To encourage.  To educate. To connect.  To know I'm not alone and let others know they aren't, either.  I recently deactivated my Facebook and love it. I continue to post on Instagram, and love the connections I have made; but cannot share a complete story as I would like. Some posts will be light and happy, some will be a bit darker, I'm sure; but all will be real. I promise not to be all "doom and gloom"; but I will be transparent, and with transparency comes the not-so-happy stuff, too.