3rd Anniversary Post… sort of?

As I sit here to write about our third anniversary, I have to be honest and say that it’s been a rough couple of days. I would love to wish my husband a happy 3 years of marriage, and let that be it. But, the truth is, the end of his Father’s Day, and the beginning of our anniversary week have been high-jacked. Trigger warning: this post is long and a bit sad. I’ll spare you the graphic details, but if you’re not in the place where you can read about pregnancy loss, then I urge you to skip it and return to it another day. I also curse – sorry, not sorry.

Last week, I had a positive pregnancy test. It wasn’t just the regular ole’ “two pink lines” one is bright and the other is hard-to-tell type of thing… it was a digital pregnancy test that said “YES+” and I was so excited. Our family plan has always been to wait until Harvey turned two, and then talk about trying again, and to aim for the whole three-years-a-part timing thing. Once May rolled around, we figured we would hop on board and get the ball rolling. And then, just like last time, BAM! First time’s a charm… pregnant!! Woohoo!! February due date! Right before Harvey’s 3rd birthday. Time to get the list started: call the doctor, tell immediate family, start telling Harvey about the “baby in mama’s belly” – you know, the usual.

For half a week, we did all of those things. I made a doctor’s appointment for my 8 week ultrasound, we told Nick’s parents, and read Harvey the Berenstain Bears’ “New Baby” book.

**Quick break for a funny story here (When we pointed to my belly and told Harvey there was a baby in there, he put his face close to my stomach and pointed to a mole above my belly button and said “aww it’s a baby!!!” Nick and I laughed hysterically and then Harv did too. As sad as I have been for the past few days, this is a memory I will cherish and keep).**

A few days into this new exciting adventure, I started to feel anxious because I was experiencing some light spotting. It wasn’t bright red, so I figured after everything I had seen on the internet that it was totally normal and I tried to put it out of my mind.

Sunday started off like our normal weekend days do. We woke up, had a blast at the NC Museum of Art, stopped by the Raleigh Flea Market and had lunch… and then we came home. After getting Harvey down for a nap, I went to the bathroom and there it was… exactly what you don’t want to see when you think you’re pregnant. Shit. Fuck. Damnit. I’m getting my period. Sadness… fear… uncertainty… frustration… anger.

Let’s pause for a minute here, Sarah. What the hell is wrong with you?! SO WHAT! You’re getting your period, big deal. Don’t act like this is that bad… you have friends who’ve lost pregnancies, babies, children, and close loved ones. It’s not that bad. There are families who have been torn apart down at the border. Parents separated from their children for extended periods of time… that is actually horrible. What you’re dealing with…? It’s not that bad. It’s not that bad. It’s not that bad…. Tears. Lots and lots of tears…. YES IT IS THAT BAD!!! I WANT TO BE PREGNANT!!! This isn’t fair. Ugh.

I immediately start going through the list of all the things I could have possibly done wrong. I went running the day I found out I was pregnant. And then again on Saturday. And then I spread mulch in our yard for hours. I overdid it. I drank a cup of coffee every morning I was pregnant. Should I have stopped that? I had headaches last time I stopped drinking coffee. Everybody says all of these things are fine when you’re pregnant but what if they aren’t… what if I did this?

Then, I start trying to minimize it. I tell myself I have no reason to be this upset. It’s not like I was even actually pregnant. There was no heartbeat. Some people call this a “chemical pregnancy” and some people call it an “early miscarriage.” I don’t care what you want to call it. It feels like a loss and I feel sad and I can’t help that. I won’t always feel this sad, and hopefully this is the only hiccup in the road. But it might not be. We might be starting down a long and scary road in order to grow our family to the size we’ve always hoped for. There is no way to know for sure.

After that, I start to get jealous. Envious. Of all the families out there who have their beautiful second children. There, I said it. It’s not my fault, it isn’t their fault. It doesn’t mean I’m not happy for them… but I’m allowed to be jealous. Just for a little while, ok?

And then… worst of all, Ed shows up in the corner. He says, “Sarah, let’s get through this together. Crawl into my arms, I’ll be there for you. I’m always here for you.” You see, Ed and I used to be a pretty dynamic duo. We do tragedy well together. But… that was a long time ago, and I now belong to a pretty terrific trio known as “The Cainades” and those are the people I do life with. Those are the people I will always do life with.  Although I am sad, although it feels like I could easily rejoin him, I am able to reply, “Kindly, Ed, go fuck yourself!” And for a moment, I am proud of how far I’ve come. Good thing I go to therapy on Thursday!

Now, for the first time, I have a very tiny, small glimpse into what this shame feels like. Honestly, I’m not even sure if that’s the right word. I understand why people keep pregnancy a secret. You don’t want to get your hopes up. Not only that… you don’t want to get other peoples’ hopes up. I don’t want to let anybody down. I don’t want to let my husband down, I don’t want to let myself down. I don’t want my family and friends to get excited over nothing. We are going to the beach at the end of the week, and I wanted to tell them about our news. Now, I have nothing to share, and I’m heartbroken over that fact.

When I called the doctor to cancel my appointment, I was half hoping that the person on the other end of the line would give me some sort of “hope.” I was hoping she would tell me to come in, that they would double-check, and that everything was actually just a bad dream. She was super sweet, and told me that if I needed anything at all to call them back, including resources for my current situation. Another quick side note here: I am switching practices after Harvey’s scary birth situation – although I absolutely LOVE the Women’s Birth and Wellness Center and recommend them to anybody who will listen, I have switched to the Durham Women’s Clinic where midwives (and OB’s) deliver in a hospital. I had an appointment there earlier this spring and loved it… but it occurs to me when I hang up the phone, that I might not have any actual, real prenatal visits with them. I hope this isn’t the case.

I am going to be ok. I have a great support network and an even better partner to walk this journey with me. All of our journeys look a little different. The unknown is hard, but ultimately, I know everything will be fine – one way or the other.

I’ve been hugging my child a little harder this week. They are miracles. I’ve always known that, but sometimes the universe has a particular way of reminding you. To my sweet Nick, I am so glad that we decided to get married 3 years ago. I’m sorry that we had to experience this as a family, but I am so grateful that we experienced it together. You are my rock and my love. I am looking forward to celebrating our anniversary with you, and to have a great week at the beach and a fabulous rest of the summer. I love you.

To everybody else, I hope you are well. In this world, we are all walking our own path. Nobody else can walk your path for you. But, if you want – if you let them – there are people who are willing to walk it with you for a little while if you need them to. I am here as one of those people. I might not know what to say to you. I might not know what it is you need. But I will be here. We can sit in silence, or we can chat for as long as you need. Don’t tell me that “everything will work out the way it is supposed to” because I don’t even know what that is “supposed” to be. Just be there, show up, and I will do the same. Take care of yourselves and love each other fiercely. Peace be with you. ❤

Where did my baby go?

So… Harvey is about to turn 2 and I am still in denial. I know I’ve said this before, but I mean it every time: “I think this is my favorite stage so far!” Seriously though, I loved watching my newborn begin to smile and coo, and then I loved watching my infant turn into a crawling baby. It was so fun watching my cruiser turn into a toddler, and now… it is the MOST FUN ever watching my toddler turn into a little kid!! I’ve been spending a lot of time reminiscing on the baby phase (mostly thanks to timehop on facebook memories) but also because it is the time of year where our lives are about to get very busy and hectic as soccer season starts tomorrow. I’m trying to soak it in, and put memories down on paper.


What’s new with Harv? Well… he’s officially in the so-called “terrible twos” stage. I don’t say that to insinuate that he’s bad, he’s actually quite wonderful (most of the time). I just mostly mean that he says “no” and “I didn’t do that” and tries to test/push the boundaries with us. I’ll admit, I’ve got to step up my mom game when it comes to this because I can’t help but laugh at him. Nick is the “good” parent when trying to actually teach Harvey what he can and can’t do (like jump on the couch or throw his trucks down the stairs). He has such patience and can keep a straight face. I am the one guilty of “encouraging” his hilarious antics (even when they aren’t that hilarious) and I think it is mostly because I am in complete and total awe of everything he can say and do and understand. Like, when Harvey is being disciplined by Nick, he does this funny thing where Nick will ask him, “do you understand me?” and Harvey will go “ma!” it is his little way of showing embarrassment I think? He absolutely understands, he just doesn’t want to acknowledge that he’s in trouble. Eventually, Nick can get him to say “yes daddy” and I am usually standing by trying my hardest not to giggle.

pants.jpg (like father like son)

His language has really taken off these days. He’s always been a good communicator, but lately he’s becoming a conversationalist. He is starting to produce a lot of original thoughts and comments on things, and some of my favorites are when he wakes up in the morning and tells me about his “dreams.” I go in and get him out of his crib in the AM and bring him into our bed so we can snuggle and chat. It is usually just toddler-speak/babble, but sometimes he wakes up and wants to talk about cars. Cars and trucks are his true passion right now. It is hard to find him around the house (or anywhere really) without hotwheels in his little hands or a tonka truck at his feet.

trucks.jpg(early morning truck time)

We’ve had a fun winter with him, that’s for sure. The snow days we got were a real treat, and we got to spend some good quality time together as a family, even if Harv didn’t love the snow a whole lot. We’ve had lots of trips to the museum and to sky zone on Saturdays for toddler time (I highly recommend this to my Durham peeps, along with a museum of life and science membership). Another thing I love noting about nug right now is that he has friends. Like, actual friends (not just other kids in the room) who he plays with, talks to, and loves seeing. When Theo and Luke come over, he calls them by name and interacts with them (even if it is just to snatch toys away)! Elliott from daycare is his official BFF – I have to peel them a part at the end of the day when I pick him up. When we leave Ms. Rochelle’s at the end of the day, he usually lists off his friends one by one (over and over again) the whole ride home while he’s telling me about his day. My favorite pronunciation is of Annabelle’s name – Harvey still maintains that you say it, “E-Belle.” ❤

museum.jpg(harv and theo at the museum)

Update on my life: this spring is going to be crazy!! Soccer season is always something I look forward to, and I am going to attempt to finish my national board certification on top of that! I’m running a half marathon and a 10-miler in April – so keep your fingers crossed that goes well! I also wanted to add something here for you all. Last night, I posted an Instagram with an update on my progress towards being a happy and healthy and “whole” person. I’ve gotten SO. MUCH. POSITIVE. Feedback from that and I just want to thank my community and support system for those words and affirmations. In my post, I reference this term that my therapist and I came up with called my “imaginary belly” and I wanted to elaborate a little to that. This term is not one I used in a literal or physical sense. It is a metaphor for my “baggage” and all that comes with breaking the “stigma” of having an eating disorder and being open/honest about it. It’s a reference to the idea that I carry the “weight” of this struggle and the way I used to try and hide it and/or fight it silently. Ever since I’ve made the decision to discuss this struggle and my journey, that “load” that I carry has only gotten lighter… and I continue to feel grateful for my blessings and for my people. 🙂


Life is short. I lost a coworker this weekend. He was a good man, a good teacher, a good coach, and a good father. It was sudden, and unexpected, and it has affected a lot of us here at school in many different ways. I can’t stop thinking about his family, and feeling lucky that I have the chance to keep waking up every day and loving mine. Let people in. Share yourself with them, and let them share themselves with you. We only get so many trips around the sun, and I intend to fill mine with as much laughter and joy as possible.


Well… that about sums it up! I tried to find some recent photos of our winter activities, and will update you all again after Harv’s birthday party. He is having an Easter egg hunt-themed birthday and we can’t wait to watch the kiddies try and find the eggs (or more likely just wander around the yard). Coming up this spring: potty training a little boy, first edition. Details to be released upon completion… aka pray for us, y’all! Haha!

Peace be with you all ❤

Why Eating for Two has Changed My Life


I am halfway through my pregnancy. HALF freaking WAY! I can’t believe that 20 weeks has gone by so quickly. I mean, I can and I can’t. I feel like Nick and I have gotten so many “things” done, and yet, we have so much more to accomplish before nugget arrives. And then… at the same time… I realize that there is literally NOTHING in the world we can do to prepare for the day that he or she actually takes a breath in this world… and what will follow in the days, weeks, months, and years to come. I am coming to grips with the fact that we will just have to “figure it out” like everybody says.

Part of the reason I can say that is because I’ve had to do a lot of that lately. By lately, I mean, in the past few years of my life… I’ve spent a lot of time “figuring it out.” What I’ve been thinking about recently is how this new phase in my life has affected me in so many more ways than I can possibly describe, and this baby hasn’t even arrived yet. Some of you are like, “What in the hell is she talking about?” and some of you might have an idea. I want you to know as you continue to read this post that it has taken me YEARS to build up the courage to discuss this stuff publicly.

Why? Because it’s the hard stuff. Why is it difficult for us to talk about the “hard” stuff? Because we don’t like to put our problems on others. For me, it is like a disease. Like… I would rather DIE sometimes than risk not pleasing the people around me. That’s right, hello, my name is Sarah and I am a Type A, hardcore, people pleaser. So what does that mean? It means that when you ask me how my day is, I will tell you that it’s fabulous. I will tell you all about my weekend and who I was with and how great school is going, and how much I love my soccer team, etc… (the best part about that statement is that it could have applied to me in the past, could apply to me now, and can apply to me in the future… when I was 16 I loved my family and school and soccer and now that I am 27, funnily, I still love all of those things as a mom, wife, teacher, and coach). If I was having a bad day, the only person who would know it, was me. These days, if I am having a bad day, I’m a little better at talking about it. Why? Because I’ve gotten help from family, friends, and professionals for it. That’s right, I see a therapist. I’m not saying that my life is perfect now, and that I never have bad days, but when I do, they are a little more manageable than they used to be. I could not be more thankful for it.

I woke up one morning, about 9 months ago, after a very long series of events (including but not limited to: alcoholism, divorce, infidelity, grad school, new house, new job, etc.) that had built up over the course of (approximately) ten years, and finally admitted to myself that certain parts of my life were out of control. What I had spent a lot of those ten years doing was focusing on all of the bad thing that were “happening to me” or “being done to me” … and what I wasn’t focused on were the things that were going on “with me.” Around the time I was 17/18 years old, I became aware of this new “thing” I was developing. I have, since then, struggled with this “thing” during different times, different highs and lows, at varying levels of awareness and difficulty. This “thing” is what I’ve come to call “Ed”. I didn’t come up with that term – I have to give credit to Jenni Schaefer – because she is a woman who wrote a book called “Life Without Ed”, that I read a few years back. I came across this book after calling a random therapist I found on google in a hysterical state because I was tired of running from/hiding from/denying my eating disorder. There. I said it. Eating disorder.

My heart is already racing because I just typed those words, and now they are out here on the internet for everybody to see. The problem with talking about this stuff, among other things, is that I get really hung up on what people will think of me AFTER they find this stuff out. Will their opinions change? Will they think of me differently? Will they think I’m weak? I’m afraid that people will think I’m not fit to be a teacher, a mother, a coach … all of those things include being a “role model”. Well, here’s a little piece of MY personal experience. The few people who already know about Ed seem to love me more than they did 2 years ago, 5 years ago, 10 years ago. Do you know why? Because everybody has their shit. And it is no better or no worse than yours. The fact that we talk about it is what makes it real, and what makes it possible to connect with one another. It took me YEARS to figure this next part out: I thought that what made me a good person and a good friend and a good role model was having what everybody thought was a “perfect life.” But guess what that does? It makes you untouchable. Un-relatable. People can’t reach you on a personal level. They can’t get close to you. Real human connection comes from sharing your truth with others, and having them share their truths with you. THAT is what builds relationships. Another part of that, that took me YEARS to figure out, is that the people in my life who I looked up to the most, respected the most, trusted the most… were the people who were honest with me. People who shared their “scary” truths with me became stronger in my eyes. Not weaker. I loved them MORE than I did when I thought they were perfect.

So what does this have to do with “eating for two”? Well, lots of things. Not only am I physically feeding myself and my baby, I am mentally feeding myself and my baby. I want to be the kind of parent that can admit I have made mistakes. I want to teach my child that I have weaknesses, just like everybody else, and that it is OK to not be OK sometimes. I want to teach my child that love and honesty is what breeds acceptance and comfort, and nothing else. When I found out I was pregnant, some of my thinking was: “this is healthy for the baby” or, “I need to eat this, do this, do that, for the baby”. Over the course of the last 20 weeks, my thinking has shifted. It hit me one day in the form of this thought: “There is no way I can be the best Mommy I can possibly be if I am only ever thinking of what I need to do for my baby.” Sure, that is a HUGE part of it, and any parent knows that. But part of being a healthy person and a healthy parent is taking care of yourself. If the baby is “worth it” (putting all of the hard work it takes into being physically and mentally healthy) then SO AM I. I was worth it all along. It just took growing a life inside me to realize it.

I hope that this post can serve to help any women who are currently struggling with, or have struggled with eating disorders in the past. You don’t ever “cure” yourself. It doesn’t ever fully go away. You have to work on it, maintain it, TALK ABOUT IT. When one more person comes out and shares their story, the stigma loses its power over us that much more. Living your life inside that disease is one of secrecy and despair. I pushed people away for years, and lost some of those relationships permanently along the way. Don’t do the same, don’t be that person, don’t make my mistakes. Make your own… you have to. It’s the only way to come out on the other side alive and well. For those of you reading this who know me well, continue to love me and support me just as you have in the past. I am the same person I’ve always been, I just have a new sense of awareness and appreciation for the world these days, and I wouldn’t change one single moment of the journey that I took to get here 🙂

Blessings to you all on this lovely December day! ❤

Side note: Nick and I got to see Nugget on Friday and he or she is beautiful, thriving, and in constant motion! Nug also heard his/her first story on Sunday as Daddy read Brown Bear, Brown Bear!




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