Losing Control…

I am having an extremely hard time dealing with the latest news with my uterus. I cannot recover from it. I think about it non-stop. It really is consuming my life right now. And I hate it.

With all of the events in 2018, and especially in the past two weeks, my anxiety is spiraling out of control. I am very close to a breakdown. I just feel it.

I went into the gym yesterday and there is a guy there that is the nutritionist. The Keto diet has become very big in our gym. The reason this is important…the Keto diet helps with anxiety. The nutritionist used to have extreme anxiety. He and I have talked about it multiple times and we are just alike.

Anxiety for me is a never ending to do list. It’s literally like a TV reel that is constantly playing in my head telling me that I’m not accomplishing anything. It’s being so overwhelmed to the point that I cannot focus on anything. It’s when I get to that point of being so overwhelmed, I lose all sense of prioritizing and I have no idea what task to accomplish next. It’s…see the first sentence in this paragraph and then repeat the process…OVER AND OVER AND OVER AND OVER. Multiple times a day. It’s exhausting, and I’m over it.


I’m at the point now that it’s either get on board with this diet, or get on medicine. And I do not want to do either. Getting on medicine is going to be an absolute last resort for me. I am not against people being on medicine for anxiety, I just personally do not want to take it. I have friends that are on it and I would have never even guessed they were on it. They are fully functioning humans. Hell, I didn’t even know that some of them were suffering from anxiety. It’s just something that I do not want to do. But, this diet is also not something that I want to do. I have very little knowledge about this diet, but here is what I know. It’s a high fat diet. The makeup of your diet is essentially 75% fat, 15% protein, and 10% or less carbs. It can very to +/- 5% on all of these. It’s a super low carb diet. I have been warned that you feel like shit until your body is in ketosis. When you reach ketosis, everything starts to get better. For the women at my gym it’s taken 4-6 weeks. And this is being 100% strict, no slip ups. If they had a slip up, it took them longer. Oh, and no beer. I cannot even wrap my head around not having beer. I know I can have other alcohol, but I really like beer. Oh, and if you cheat and have carbs, you pretty much have to start all over. For me, I WANT to be able to have a cheat meal everyone in a while and not feel like shit. For the anxiety to go away, you have to be very strict and follow all the rules to this diet. I just know it’s not possible for me.

The more I talked to the guy at the gym, I just knew that something had to change. I was really emotional afterwards. I felt like I had a good hold on this, and now all of a sudden, I don’t. I text Scott when I got back to work and I told him that I really needed to talk tonight after the kids went to bed. Even if I was tired, I asked him to take the initiative to make me talk. Normally after the kids go to bed, he flips on the TV to his shows and we don’t talk for the rest of the night.

Do you think we spoke to one another last night?


And I was furious. Absolutely furious. I had 1 million irrational thoughts going through my head. I was ready to pack my shit and move out. I knew they were irrational so I didn’t say anything. I told myself that I need to cool off and sleep on it. Welp, guess what? I was still pissed off the next morning. I knew I didn’t need to talk to him because I was going to say something I didn’t mean. I got Briar up and she had a poopy diaper. I laid her down in the floor to change her and Scott came in. He started talking to her and trying to keep her attention so I could change her diaper. She’s been playing peek a boo lately so he started covering her face up with her white cover and playing with her. It’s a big cover, and it was getting so close to her poop every time. I kept telling him to stop and he didn’t. So the next time he did it, I yanked the cover from him and threw it across the room.

I just feel myself getting so angry. So fast. Being very irrational.

So, here I am, at this crossroads of what in God’s name do I do?

Today I have thought a lot about what is the next step. I ended up talking to someone at work that I trust about everything that has gone on in the last few weeks. As I was talking, I came to a realization. Maybe Scott should go to therapy with me. Not because we are in a bad place, because we’re not, I’m just crazy…But to help us figure out how to relate to one another and how he can help me. Because I feel like I’m changing in what I need from him. He has always been the same and probably always will be, but I need more. I guess I need more because of everything I’m going through? I don’t know?

I reverted back to one of my first therapy sessions. She explained to me the 5 Love Languages. There are a ton of books and websites about this. Basically everyone loves in a different way, but they normally fall into 5 categories: Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Receiving Gifts, Quality Time, and Physical Touch. Scott and I love differently. He is Acts of Service and I am Quality Time. Scott has told me before that he doesn’t know how to talk to me or help me when I get like this. Hell, I don’t know how to help myself, so how am I supposed to tell someone how to help me and love me? Hence, why I thought about therapy. If she can help Scott understand my anxiety and how to help me, maybe this could be a good thing? And vice versa, I have a hard time with his Acts of Service love. Maybe she can help me deal with and accept it better.

I called the therapist today and asked if he could come to my next visit with me. She immediately said yes. She asked if there was anything she needed to know about since I had never brought up him coming. I told her no, it wasn’t that bad, I think we just need some help understanding each other. For me, it’s hard to explain to someone who doesn’t have anxiety, what it feels like. And I can only imagine if you don’t have anxiety and you were looking at me. Literally, people probably think I’m a psychopath. Since Scott and I hadn’t really spoke, I text him this morning and asked him to think about coming to therapy with me. All he said was okay. I will hopefully be able to explain to him tonight that I don’t think we are in a bad place, but I want him to come so we can hopefully get a better understanding of what each other wants. He probably thinks it’s going to be a bash session against him and that’s the last thing I want. I didn’t want to text all that so hopefully we get the opportunity to talk tonight.

So tired of this anxious filled life I live.

Until next time…


–The Kentucky Momma


I’m Tired of Being Strong

Monday happened. And I’d like a redo.

God, this dreaded appointment. This dreaded doctors office. I am pretty sure I have been in that office more in the last 2 months than I have for all my pregnancies combined. Well, not really, but that’s what it feels like. Yet, here I was again. Trying to figure out answers like I had been for the past 3 months.

They called me back to get the ultrasound. I was super sad because it wasn’t the same ultrasound tech! At this point, I felt like I had bonded with the old one and she wasn’t there. Anyways, as we were walking back she told me that she was going to do an abdominal and vaginal ultrasound. I walked in the room and the big screen was on. I laid down to get the ultrasound and just instinctly turned my head towards the screen. I watched as she looked for my uterus and it was at that point it hit me like a ton of bricks. I just lost it. She was looking for my broken uterus instead of checking on my baby who should be 14 weeks. I was not prepared to see an “empty” ultrasound. Sure, I knew there wasn’t going to be a baby, but I can’t explain it. My emotions just took over. I feel like all I’ve done since I found out I was pregnant was cry. The ultrasound tech asked if there was anything she could do, and I said no. She asked if I wanted her to turn off the big screen, and I said no. I wanted to see if I could see my uterus. So, here I was…staring at my “empty” ultrasound…trying to be an ultrasound tech and find my uterus. Obviously I had no luck. I didn’t even know what I was looking for. It all looked the same to me. I just knew what wasn’t there…a baby with a little flicker of a heartbeat.

After about 10 minutes of taking pictures, she was done. They put me in a room and I waited for the doctor to come in. As soon as she walked in, I started crying. She didn’t even say a word and I lost it. I just knew she was going to give me bad news.

And that she did…

My uterus is completely in two pieces. I have a bicornuate uterus with a large septum. The septum is what splits the uterus in two. Scientifically, a septum is tissue that looks like an upside triangle that splits the uterus in two.


So, what does this mean?

This means, that I can get pregnant, but unless the septum is fixed, it would more than likely result in a miscarriage. There is a very low chance that I could get pregnant and everything would be okay…because:

6 week old in septate uterus

With a septum in the uterus, there is less room for everything. It makes it hard for the placenta to attach and thrive, and the blood supply is really low. Hence, the baby itself cannot grow.

But, if all factors line up appropriately, it is possible to have a successful, yet risky pregnancy. This means that the egg would have to attach in just the right spot to the uterus in order to develop appropriately. The change of having preterm labor with a bicornuate uterus is very high because half of your uterus can only grow so big until it can’t grow anymore:


In a nutshell, my doctor recommended that if I want to have more kids then I would need surgery to correct the septum. My doctors do not perform the surgery. I would have to seek the help of an infertility specialist who would screen my history, run some tests, and perform the surgery. From what I understand, it’s actually pretty minor. I would maybe be down for a couple of days.

With all of this new information, I know the chances of me having another baby are slim to none and I’m having a really hard time dealing with that. Yes, I could go through with the surgery to correct my uterus, but I then become high risk and I will have to be monitored closely. I haven’t asked, but I would assume that means little to no exercise. For my sake and everyone around me, I need to exercise.

All of this might be different if I was trying for my first, or even second baby. But third…is it really worth it? Physically? Emotionally? Mentally? Financially? Is it really worth it? I’m unsure…

And Scott…I knew his mind would be made up. I didn’t even talk to him until that night about it. My appointment was during work hours, and after I had a couple of things to do and I needed to keep my shit together, so I just told him we would talk about it later, because if I talked about it, I was going to cry. After the kids went to bed, we talked about everything. As always, this man surprises me. For me, he’s keeping an open mind. I figured he would be a hard NO. But he wasn’t. He said we could talk about it a couple of months down the road and see how we both felt.

I honestly don’t know how I feel about it all. No decisions need to be made now, and for that, I’m thankful. But, I feel that we won’t have another baby based on all of this. I really don’t see us going through with all of this, just to have one more.

I feel so defeated after all of this. Absolutely defeated. I’m so angry that the decision to have another baby was made really difficult. It’s not really a matter of yes, let’s do it, or no, let’s no do it. Now, it’s a matter of, Do we have the money to go through with this? Do I really want to put myself through this? Can I be strong enough to get through this?

A lot of people tell me that I’m really strong. And to be quite honest, I am so tired of being strong. When Scott and I were talking about this, I told him this. I told him I was so tired of keeping my shit together and trying to be strong for myself and everyone else. When was someone going to be strong for me? When was I allowed to not be strong anymore and just be a human being that has lost 4 babies, and the potential to get pregnant again, and be mad about my god damn uterus?


–The Kentucky Momma

Just Another Week in Paradise…

It’s been a couple of weeks since my last update on all of this blood work bullshit. I ended up having to go to get blood work done two other times. It went from a 33 to a 25 to a 3. And they still wanted me to come back. Nope. I was done. 4 weeks of getting poked was enough. I was ready to be done with this. At the point that I was a 3, like, get real, I’m not pregnant anymore.

Everything is a constant reminder that I’m not pregnant anymore. It’s hit me really hard this time. I try to suppress it because reliving it every day is not helpful either. I know that no one wants to hear about it, so I don’t really talk about it. I feel like a broken record talking to Scott about it. He tells me he doesn’t care, but I know he is tired of it.

I can’t remember what doctor appointment is was, but I was waiting to go back and a couple came out after a successful ultrasound and they were beaming. It brought tears to my eyes how happy they were. I was so happy for them, but I was so sad for me.

I got a reminder in my email that I was 12 weeks pregnant….thank you for that…

This miscarriage has just rocked my world.

I just want it to end. I want to feel okay.


On Monday I go to the doctor to found out about my uterus. I’m not really looking forward to that unless they tell me they were wrong and my uterus is fine. I’m just over the bad news. I know, I’m have an EXTRA pity party for myself, but, I’m just done with the doctor this year and I’m done with the bad news.

Until next time…


–The Kentucky Momma


Briar is ONE!

In the midst of all things gloomy…

…we now have a ONE YEAR OLD!!



As with most people, I have no idea where the past year went. It was a hard one, that’s for sure. For me, the main factors that made it hard were going back to work at 6 weeks, breastfeeding, no consistent sleep until she was 6 months old, breastfeeding, pumping, breastfeeding, getting pregnant with a new baby and losing the baby all before she turned 1, and breastfeeding….

At this point, I have finished breastfeeding. It wasn’t intentional, but the last time I nursed her was her 1st birthday. I was going through the miscarriage, I was ready for my body to get back to normal, I was so over pumping, I had enough milk to last a couple more weeks until we fully transitioned over to an alternate milk, I had ultimately met my breastfeeding goal of 1 year. I was just done. So, after I nursed her and laid her in her crib, and walked out of her room, I just decided that was it. The next night and every night after that she has been perfectly fine. It was like I didn’t even nurse her EVERY SINGLE NIGHT FOR ONE ENTIRE YEAR. February 6th was her last day of breast milk. We had been half breast milk and half of an alternate milk for about 1 month before.


Briar’s Last Bag of Milk

When she was 11 months she started taking some step here and there, and it wasn’t much longer after that until she was full on walking. She was walking by her 1st birthday, 2 months faster than Raelynn. I love that she is mobile now and can walk around on her own. It makes my life a million times easier. I mean, she is still mama’s girl and wants me to hold her constantly, but at least I can get somewhat of a break.

She still only has her two bottom teeth. She spouted those around 9 months and there is nothing else that even looks like it’s about to break the skin anytime soon. My nipples appreciated that.

For the moment, Briar’s constipation problems have eased. Giving her baby food prunes consistently every single day have helped. Literally if we miss one single day, she is backed up again. I have no idea what I’m going to do to get her off the prunes. She might be eating baby food prunes until she is 10. The doctor suggested that we could go ahead and start giving her miralax, but I really do not want to start doing that. I have no idea how we are ever going to wean Raelynn off of that. Same issue with Raelynn, if she misses one day of miralax, she backs up and it’s really bad. I’ve been having to give her suppositories lately which is not fun at all.

We had a lot of sickness in month 12. Basically after Christmas, all 4 of us were sick. nothing major, just not feeling good, congested, runny noses. And it’s never really went away. I’ve had to take Raelynn and Briar to the doctor multiple times this month, but it was never anything serious. I actually ended up having to take Briar to the immediate care one time. She was exhibiting flu like symptoms and there is basically a flu pandemic right now so I was scared to death. The flu is killing everyone left and right, so I didn’t hesitate to take her to immediate care. They said it was probably something viral, which I was extremely thankful for. I have found this medicine that I started giving both of the girls. It’s just an immunity booster. I get it from the same place I get my protein from. I would like to think it helps them. And I’ll continue to give it to them throughout these winter-sick months.

That’s all I got for now…

Until next time…

—The Kentucky Momma

It’s next week…

Well, it’s next week.

And I still have pregnancy hormones.

So aggravating.

I went to the doctor on Thursday and they called me on Friday, around the same time as last week. “Hey Keisha, I just wanted to let you know that your HCG levels are a 33, so we will need you to come back in next week for another blood draw.”


I was somewhat relieved they decreased. And they decreased a lot. That was a great thing for me. That means that my body was going to take care of everything. Hopefully I will just have to go in for this last blood draw and my levels will be back to zero.

I’m in a really bad funk. I guess all of this is to blame. It’s just been such a long, drawn out process. But I hate to make excuses. I’m not in a bad mood, but I’m not in a great mood. I find myself staying pretty focused at work, which is a good thing. Normally when I get like this, my productivity is slim to none. My home life and social life are good. I’m just in a very blah mood.


My blah mood is affecting me really bad in the gym and I really, really hate it. I know that sounds stupid, but the gym is my safe place. It’s my place where nothing is supposed to matter. It’s my place where for one hour, I get to not worry about anything. It’s my place where I can break a good sweat and relieve all of my pent up anger and stress.

Today, I didn’t even finish the workout. I didn’t even push myself. I got to a certain point and just said, “Fuck it.” I have NEVER quit a workout before. I might have slowed down if I wasn’t feeling it. Not today. With about 3 minutes left, I just decided to quit. That really bothers me.

I have found that with this pregnancy and miscarriage, it’s been hard for me to recover physically and mentally. When I was pregnant this time, I had very minimal set backs in the gym. The main thing was I just ran out of breath really quick. I expected this because it was the same when I was pregnant with Briar. But, during the miscarriage and after the miscarriage, I am just not with it. My endurance is terrible. I’m sure that’s mostly a mental thing, but, nonetheless, I am struggling. There are some specific movements that I used to be able to do fairly average and I literally cannot do them now…DOUBLE UNDERS. I’ve also been having a recurring shoulder issue (left deltoid). Today, we did strict presses and it hurt at my 50%.

You know how you just have those days…today was just one of those days. Before I even made it to the gym, my anxiety was on high alert. I hadn’t really felt super anxious like that in a long time. I know exactly what triggered it. Briar woke up about 4 times in the middle of the night last night. One time I had to hold her for an hour before I could put her back down in her bed. When it was time to get up for the day, I was already exhausted.

It’s just been so weird. Everything has been weird. Maybe I’m just searching too hard for normal. I have a therapy session tomorrow. Much needed, obviously…The last time I was there, she knew I was pregnant, but I was going to the doctor for the first time. So, I’ll get to rehash everything again tomorrow. I’m hoping she will help me see it in a different light.

I’m trying so hard to not let this miscarriage get the best of me, but it’s winning right now.

Until next time…


–The Kentucky Momma

Just A Waiting Game…

The day of my doctor appointment, I was actually off work. Briar had a well check that morning, then I had my appointment, and then I had a massage scheduled for a little later in the day. While I waited for my massage, I asked Scott to go to lunch with me so I could fill him in on the doctor appointment.

When we sat down, I just started talking and crying and giving all of the what-if scenarios and I felt like I didn’t stop talking/crying/blubbering for about 15 minutes straight. When I finally stopped, he looked at me, and with absolute calmness and sincerity, said, “You need to chill out. I realize you are going through a lot right now, but we have to handle this one thing at a time.” Obviously, I knew he was right, but my mind couldn’t stop racing. I knew we needed to take this one step at a time. It was just hard. Even as I sit here and write this, I can instantly go back to that day, sitting at the table with Scott and feeling my mind racing, my heart racing, the tears on my face. It’s just so much to handle. It’s so much to take in.

And all I wanted to hear was that I wasn’t pregnant. Touche.


The next day, Friday, rolled around and my anxiety was super high all day. I was supposed to get the results of my HCG levels this afternoon. I tried to be productive all day to keep my mind off things. But my phone remained glued to me all day; constantly glancing at it to see if I had missed the call. Finally, while I was in an afternoon meeting, my phone rang. I about flipped out of my chair trying to walk out of the conference room to answer my phone in time. It was the OB Nurse. “Hi Keisha, I’m just calling to let you know that your HCG levels are 243. So we will need you to come back next week to get your blood drawn again.” My heart sank. All I could manage to get out was a measly, “Okay.”

At this point, I’m beyond frustrated. All of the waiting. All of the poking and prodding. I’m just so ready to move on. I just feel like this is never ending. My HCG levels of 243 really mean nothing. I don’t know what they were before, but I’m assuming they were much higher. I have now been educated that it can take 4-6 weeks for your HCG levels to return to 0. Basically, I will have to go back weekly until my levels return to 0. So for the next week, I am wishfully thinking they will drop to 0, but if anything, I’m just hoping they drop. I will probably lose my mind if they don’t drop.  When I went through my second miscarriage, they dropped to 0 in less that 48 hours, so I didn’t have to go through this mess. But, I was a lot further along this time, so I guess it makes sense.

Until next week, maybe??


–The Kentucky Momma

Another set back…

Today, I had my follow up appointment for my miscarriage. I had been anxiously awaiting this appointment. This week went by so slow. I was just so ready to hear, “You are not pregnant,” so I could move on. I felt my body had taken care of everything, but I just wanted and needed that verbal confirmation.

Of course, I went in and had the same ultrasound tech. I’m sure at this point she just hates seeing me because she knows she is going to have to deliver bad news. She asked if I was tired of being here all the time with a small smile. I simply said, yes. So, another vaginal ultrasound commenced. I looked at the ceiling while my thoughts raced. I prayed that my body had taken care of everything. I prayed so hard. I felt like she was taking forever. I wasn’t sure if it was just me or not. Then, she said, “I need to push on your stomach, your bowels are in the way.” Hhmmm…okay….I had no idea what she was doing and I just hoped that she was being extra thorough and making sure that everything was gone. Whenever she was done she made the comment that she thought I wouldn’t be back in there for a while. GOOD. You know how the ultrasound techs aren’t supposed to tell you anything? She’s been pretty good at indirectly telling me stuff in the past. I took that as a sign that everything was gone. For the moment, I could breathe a little.

Now, onto waiting for the doctor. I just wanted the damn doctor to tell me I wasn’t pregnant. That’s it. My day was going to be made when she told me that. Finally, there was a knock at the door. She walked in and proceeded to read everything the ultrasound to me. She told me that my uterine lining appeared to be back to normal. GOOD. And that was about the only good thing she said. She immediately went into a concern with my uterus.

What in the actual fuck was going on? All I wanted you to do was tell me that I wasn’t pregnant. Now, I have a problem with my fucking uterus. I zoned out. I didn’t even want to hear anything she was about to say to me.

Apparently my uterus is splitting in two. The medical term is a bicornuate uterus. A normal uterus looks like a circle, or oval at the top. Mine looks like a heart. The reason the ultrasound tech was trying to move my bowels is so she could get a better look at the top of my uterus. My bowels were not cooperating, so guess what…I have to go back in 4 weeks for yet another ultrasound to assess the severity of my heart shaped uterus.


In the fog of all of this new information, I managed to ask, “What exactly does this mean?” In a nutshell, with my uterus in its current state, it would be very difficult for me to carry a pregnancy again. Depending on the severity, it could be fixable through surgery.

I was so sad. I started to cry. The doctor quickly reassured me that it could most likely be fixable and everything would be okay. It didn’t make anything any easier.

Throughout this whole journey, I have grieved over losing my fourth baby, but I’ve also grieved that it could potentially be my last pregnancy. I can’t explain it, but I’ve just always envisioned my family to have three kids. I feel greedy. I have two perfectly little babies at home, but I just want one more. I feel so selfish for wanting that. And I had just convinced Scott to keep an open mind about having a third baby. Now, with all of this new information, the risk may not outweigh the reward.

From all of the very general research I have done on a bicornuate uterus, it can be very risky to be pregnant with this condition. It could lead to preterm labor, I would have to be strictly monitored, I’m sure I couldn’t work out (biggest factor for me), it could stunt the babies growth, in several cases it leads to C-Sections because the baby doesn’t have enough room to be head down. Would I really want to put myself through 9 months of this just to have another baby? Clearly I can’t predict the future, but what if everything was okay? This would just be a blip on the map. But, what if everything wasn’t okay? I would have to live with my decision for the rest of my life, just because I wanted one more.

And, the doctor never told me I wasn’t pregnant. She basically insinuated that everything appeared to be back to normal, but they couldn’t rule out a “hidden pregnancy” in one of the horns of my uterus (again, why they wanted to see the top of my uterus). She sent me to get blood work done to test my HCG levels. They told me I would hear back from them the next day.



Until next time…


–The Kentucky Momma