As much as I love the spirit of the holidays, it makes me miss my grandparents. I adored them and have so many special memories of them at Christmas. My sweet grandmother, Jane Smith - who we affectionately called "Gigi”,…
How Joining A Garage Band Saved My Life When I was 22 years old, I dropped out, (or if I am being honest - flunked out) of college, where I was studying Vocal Music. My passion for music comes from…
A few weeks ago, I was mistaken for a homeless woman. That’s right. Homeless! In my lifetime, I’ve been mistaken for a few things; most notably tennis champion Steffi Graf who is at least five inches taller than I am.…
Last spring, two long-established (and unrelated) fertility clinics in Ohio and California made headline news when they both experienced failures that resulted in the destruction of thousands of eggs and embryos. While the failures at both clinics are still being…
Mother's Day is a special time for so many of us where we are pampered, spoiled and showered with love. As for me, I will have brunch with my family, get a backrub from my husband and hopefully take an…
I am the last person who thought I would be writing about infertility and what we have learned through our journey. As people of faith, we know to trust the process and timing of everything in our lives. However, dealing…
The Burning Bush As long as I can remember, I’ve been a person who looks for signs. Whether I’m making business decisions or trying to decide where to go on vacation, I ask God for guidance. I believe that just…
I’ve said many times that if someone had told me I would have twins at the age of forty-three and that another woman would carry them for me, I would have laughed from here to high heaven. Well, it turns out this is exactly how I became a mother the second (and third) time around. After suffering undiagnosed recurrent miscarriages, hiring a gestational carrier was my last and only hope for expanding my family.
My 9-year old son Aidan and I were driving down the road to the grocery store on a hot Friday summer afternoon. Traffic was backed up in every direction at the intersection. I looked up and saw a well-known homeless man who lives in our community. He is about 60-years old, wears a long beard and layers of dirty clothes. I don’t believe that he has had a shower in months.
It was late afternoon on a warm spring day when I pulled into the vast shopping center parking lot. I put my car into park and began to sob.
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