My journey to get here was mapped out by a neighborhood of events. Some roads were all uphill with no street signs, and some were downhill with a few bumps and potholes. But every road met me with a wealth of knowledge from experiences I probably would not have chosen on my own. If I’m being honest, I struggled a lot of the time to find the lessons and gifts each road offered. Some offered, seemingly at the time unbearable pain, while others brought wonder and excitement. I can say that, now, looking back, I am thankful those roads led me here.
My first road in the neighborhood was laid with “unexplained secondary infertility”. A term I did not want to be familiar with. Ever. But… I am. And along this road, I met so many beautiful people. I am still good friends with one of them, Libby. Libby was a gift for sure. She was a rare gem not many find on this particular road. I met her in the waiting room at the fertility clinic. We started talking about our stories, and I learned that she was pregnant and that was her last appointment there. She was graduating to a regular OB. A milestone to be celebrated for sure! She offered support and we became friends very quickly. Both of our husbands traveled for work, so we were able to relate there as well. She taught me so much. But mainly, she was just there. She was there with so much support, from prayer to goodie baskets filled with lots of chocolate and things to make me laugh with each transfer, pregnancy, and miscarriage, all while going through her own scary stuff. She was on bed rest because her body kept trying to go into labor, her husband was deployed, and when she did finally have that sweet little baby girl, he wasn’t able to be there. She is a rockstar. A good friend. One of those gifts God gave me along the way.
Another gift I was given in the development of my neighborhood was the question WHY? Why was this happening? I had a successful pregnancy before. So I started digging into that dreadful term they kept throwing at me. I dug and dug and in all my digging I noticed a
theme, a pattern. A pattern of environmental toxins known as endocrine disruptors, food that had poisonous and unexplainable (there’s that word again, ugh!) man made toxic ingredients, and medications (prescriptions and OTC) that had a long list of side effects including inflammation, acne, digestive problems, and INFERTILITY! And so many more. A pattern of bad cycles for our bodies no doubt. I just could not wrap my brain around why this is being done by other people and why in the world it is allowed. I came to believe it came down to one thing… Money. The more money these industries made the more power they had, and the greedier they became, with little to no regard for the human body and its needs. My husband and several members of my family are in the medical field as well as many of my friends so I don’t want to come across as someone who doesn’t believe in traditional medicine because I absolutely do! I just don’t agree with the way that kind of medicine is handled sometimes. I believe that our bodies can heal themselves a lot of times if given half a chance.
Those discoveries built this house of knowledge and passion I now live in. They led me here, in this space, with you. I wanted to extend an invitation to help people understand what our bodies are capable of; that you can live a life free of chronic aches and pains, a life full of energy, and without always feeling bad. That you, in fact, can manage your stress and anxiety without antidepressants. I want people to know that you do not need permission to be your own best advocate. That you do not need an invitation to your own life. I have set a table with an open-ended invitation for people to join in on this much needed conversation. An invitation to a kind of family meal, if you will, and on the menu is hope as the appetizer, knowledge as the salad course, empowerment as the rockstar main course, and the most decadent dose of encouragement as the dessert. I am looking forward to seeing you at my table and sharing this meal with you!
Love, Heather