An open letter to Colin Kaepernick

I have been thinking about writing this for awhile now. Today I decided to just get it done. So many thoughts have come to mind and I hope I get them all across to you in a way that portrays love and respect.

Myself, my son and our entire family have been huge 49er fans for a very long time. Watching the team go through ups and downs, it is truly what being a football fan means. Entertainment at its finest! So when you burst onto the scene, we loved watching you play. Our son Zander joined in the fun. He was a young boy that loved watching you play. We had Colin Kaepernick birthday parties, he played football in the backyard pretending to be you. When Zander started playing pop warner football, he had to have #7 on his jersey. You were the epitome of a boyhood hero and we tried to give him every opportunity to enjoy it. We sent him to one of your camps in San Francisco. He was picked as the "Number One Draft Pick" and was able to meet you and have his picture taken with you. We also attended autograph signings two years in a row, to be able to see you and get your autograph. My husband and my son had lunch with you at one of your camps and we gifted you a signed book from our favorite author. Remember us now? :)

To be honest, our son Zander does not know about anything that has been going on with you. All he knows is that you aren't playing football right now. He knew when you were benched and he was very upset about it and blamed the coach. He knew when you were hurt and went in for surgery, he even made you a "Get Well" card. He was genuinely concerned for you! We chose to let him keep the innocence of being blissfully unaware. At his age, even if we were to try to explain it to him, I'm really not sure he would grasp the concept.

But I will tell you what he does know. He knows to love people regardless of color, race, or religion. He knows to respect people regardless of color, race, or religion. He knows to treat people the way he would want to be treated. He knows that in order to get anywhere in this world, that he needs to work for it and put forth his whole effort to achieve his dreams. As his parents, its our responsibility to groom his heart and mind to be one of respect, love, and gratitude.

We have many close family and friends that served in the military and close family and friends that are in law enforcement. They are some of the most unselfish people I know. They sacrifice time with family, put their lives on the line every single day. I believe that they deserve the utmost respect. I totally understand and respect your right to not only have an opinion but voice it. What really disappointed me was when you decided to wear those disrespectful "pig" socks on the field when you knew full well that the media would take notice.

At the right time, my son will learn that some people have ugly hearts and choose to treat people based on the color of their skin. We will not glorify ugly hearts by calling attention to them. We will however, glorify love, glorify our God, and call out the actions of the people that choose to love regardless of color, race, or religion. We will call attention to good deeds, acts of bravery, sacrifice for those less fortunate than us, and do good at every opportunity. I believe that calling out the good will influence more good. Do people need to be held accountable for their ugly hearts? Yes.

I'd just like to urge you to call attention to the people that do good every single day, regardless of the color of their skin, race, or religion. I urge you to call attention to law enforcement that put their lives on the line every day to protect people regardless of the color of their skin, race, or religion. Calling attention to the good ones will over shadow the bad ones. Respect goes a long way.

I hope you see the heart behind this letter, because I do see the heart behind your actions.

Addiction never wins

One of the pictures I have from my childhood shows me on my dads lap and he is helping take a drink of beer. The picture is cute, I won't deny that. Seeing my dad with a beer in his hand was a normal thing, it was like a normal appendage for him.

I knew from a very young age that my dad had a drinking problem. I tried everything I could think of to try to persuade him to stop. I remember one time I told him he wasn't allowed to drink beer if I was in the room. That one didn't last very long. I would dread the phone calls from him where I could tell that he was very drunk. He seemed to only tell me he loved me when he had been drinking.  Now that he is gone, I miss it and I would take a drunk phone call just to be able to hear his voice.

Around the summer of 2003 is when his health started showing signs of deteriorating. He began having seizures. We believed these seizures were a result of alcohol withdrawal. He would go on binges where he would drink very heavily and then not drink, his body would go into shock. He was told by his doctor that the drinking had to stop. It did not stop and the seizures continued. He dealt with pancreatitis, multiple hospital stays and continued seizures. My sister became his caretaker when she moved to the same town. She dealt with a lot as he was very grumpy at times!  It is hard to try and help someone that doesn't want to do what needs to be done.

In 2008, I was living in Elk Grove. My dad was somewhere with my Uncle and he had a seizure. He was taken to the hospital via ambulance. I showed up at the ER to take him to my house to rest. While I was waiting for him he had another seizure. This was the first one I had seen. It was terrifying. I took him to my house and he was able to get some rest. He was sitting on my couch talking to me and ended up having another seizure. When he came out of it he had no idea who I was or where he was. What he did next broke my heart. Not knowing who I was, he took out his wallet and showed me a picture of myself and my sister. He said, "These are my babies..."

My dad struggled with seizures and other health issues until he died in September of 2011. He fell down some stairs and it caused some internal bleeding. He lost a lot of blood but the doctors could not operate because he wouldn't survive the surgery. (Family, if I am wrong about those details-Forgive me..lol) He went home from the hospital into hospice care. My cousin Holly was a complete angel and took care of everything, my sister and I are forever grateful to her.

When my dad died I was extremely angry. In my mind I felt like he had made a choice a long time ago that his alcohol was more important than my sister and I. He wasn't going to be around to see his grand kids grow up because he would rather drink. It made me rethink my position on alcoholism being a disease. I used to think that alcoholism was a choice and that you could quit anytime if you just made the right choice. Alcoholism completely took over my dad. He was powerless after a certain point. I could see the anguish it caused him because if he had complete control, he would have chosen to live. He would have chosen to be around to watch his grand kids grow up, and to see his beloved team, the Seattle Seahawks, win the Super Bowl. He'd choose to be around to rub it in my face because I am a 49er fan!

His death has caused some issues with my self-worth. If my dad didn't choose me, why would anybody else? Its been really hard to process. I know that he loved us and he would have moved Heaven and earth to make sure that my sister and I were taken care of.

I guess the point of this blog would be to encourage someone who is my position. You are loved, you are a loved daughter or son that has value.

If someone reading this has a drinking problem, get the help you need. Talk to someone. You are loved and you have value.

I feel cheated

When I decided to become a surrogate I really wanted to be able to do it twice. Whether it be carry twice for one family or carry for two different families. I had baby Zachary via c-section so for safety reasons doctors require you to wait one year before having another IVF transfer or pregnancy. I used that year to take care of myself. The day I had Zachary I was the heaviest I have ever been.  The main goal of my "year off" was to lose weight and get back into shape. I felt like I did well during that year off, as well as I could anyway :)

In September of 2013 I began the process of picking a new couple. After reading a few profiles I decided on a couple. I knew going into it that this couple could possibly be difficult. I was their 2nd surrogate. After the mom had tried IVF herself a few times, she ended up losing both her tubes. That is when they turned to surrogacy. They had a surrogate before me that had a miscarriage and an ectopic pregnancy. That surrogate decided to move on. That is when I came in. They had 2 embryos left that were genetically theirs (Sperm from dad, egg from mom).  We planned on transferring both embryos in January 2014. Transfer time came and my first blood test was perfect. It was a really good number and the mom was really hopeful. My second blood test was not so great. Instead of the number going up, it had gone down. Indicating that the pregnancy was not healthy.  Since that was the last of their embryos they had to find an egg donor. From January 2014 until February 2015 I had IVF transfers back to back, 6 in total. I actually had 7 cycles of meds, one of the transfers the doctor "misplaced" the embryo in my cervix and I had to stop all meds.

In February 2015 my last cycle with the couple ended with me having a d&c from the result of a blighted ovum, meaning everything was growing except a baby. After that cycle I made the hard decision to walk away from the couple. It was rough and after my d&c I never heard from them again. Which is fine because I know they have had a rough time and I wish them nothing but the best. It took some time for me to heal after the d&c and get myself back to normal. In May 2015 I decided to try to help Zachary become a big brother. We had some bumps in the road but in August 2015 we had our first transfer with 2 embryos. My first blood test came back really low. Anything above a 5 is considered pregnant and mine came back at 3. It sounded like it was a chemical pregnancy, or a very early miscarriage. My couple had no embryos left so they had to do another egg retrieval. I felt so bad for my IM (intended mother) because I know the egg retrievals are pretty painful. They got a good amount of eggs and ended up with a good amount of embryos.

In November 2015 we had our 2nd transfer. My first blood test came back positive.  My levels continued to rise and we were all hopeful. Before I made it to 6 weeks I started bleeding and ended up in the ER. The ultrasound showed a gestational sac but it was still too early to see anything else. I had my levels checked the next day and it had gone down, which was not a good sign. I went to UCSF for an ultrasound and it was confirmed that I was going through a miscarriage. Going through a painful miscarriage like that was hard enough but it just happen to be Christmas Eve which made it that much worse.  After that we did some additional testing on me to make sure there wasn't anything going on that we didn't know about. Those tests came back normal so we decided to go forward with another transfer.

I went into this last cycle with a different mindset. I knew in my heart that it was going to be my last one. I was either going to deliver a baby in 9 months or have a negative result and be done with surrogacy all together. After  having so many failed cycles it doesn't make me look to good. I know there is nothing wrong with me, tests have shown that, but that is just how to surrogacy world works. I knew I was capable of having children. There are 3 of them running around my house now.

We had our next transfer in March 2016. Like the transfer before, my blood test came back positive. My levels continued to rise. This time I made it to our 6 week ultrasound and we saw a baby with a heartbeat! We went back 2 weeks later for another ultrasound and again saw a bigger baby with a stronger heartbeat. I was then released to my OB doctor. I had my first appointment with him when I was 10 weeks along and again saw a growing baby with a strong heartbeat. I had my own doppler that I could use at home to listen to baby's heartbeat. When I was 11 weeks along I was able to find baby's heartbeat at home. I was finally able to breathe a little, it was going to be OK!

On May 31st I was scheduled to have my first trimester screening which included an ultrasound and blood work.  The parents and Zachary were in town and able to be there for the ultrasound. That day I felt like the world just stopped. The ultrasound tech said that they weren't able to see a heartbeat. I was numb. I had JUST listened to the heartbeat on Sunday night and it was nice and strong. The baby was measuring 12 weeks 1 day, which tells us that his heart must have stopped recently. I was laying on the table completely frozen. I had no idea what to do. I called my doctor and they told me to come in. I ended up having a d&c the next day. As of right now I am still recovering. I think because I was further along that the recovery is a little more intense.

It is so hard to be in the pregnancy mindset and then all of a sudden that goes away and your mindset has to change. I went from being over the moon happy to completely defeated in a matter of seconds. My heart was broken for my intended parents. I know there was nothing that I could have done to cause this but as surrogate that is the first place my mind goes. I blame myself. I know in my heart that if my IPs decide to try again, it won't be with me. In the eyes of the fertility doctor at UCSF I am the issue. Like I said before, that is just how the surrogacy world works and I have to be OK with that. I want nothing more than for my couple to get their 2nd baby, they deserve nothing but the best.

How do I move on?  Am I supposed to move on? Am I supposed to carry a 2nd baby for someone? I feel like the choice isn't mine to make. I feel like my history makes the choice for me, that I am "damaged goods" that no one in their right mind would entrust me to carry their child.

My body is tired. My body is tired of being manipulated by IVF medications. I have forgotten what normal feels like, but I still have that deep desire to help this family. Life is all about seasons. I know seasons change but being in between seasons is a difficult spot to be in. I wish it didn't have to end like this. I envisioned it ending with me handing my couple their 2nd baby boy. I go back and forth thinking that its time to move on and focus on me, but to me that sounds selfish. I am not used to focusing on myself. I guess I am just scared of the unknown. But I hope people know that I tried. I tried so very hard. There are just some things that are out of my control.

I want to end by saying that everything that I have been through has been worth it and I would do it all over again. Every time I see a picture of Zachary my heart jumps. Every time I see him with his family and see how much joy he brings his parents, it warms my heart. Not many people can say that they helped someone create a family the way I can. So I guess I accomplished what I wanted. I helped bring an amazing little boy into this world.

Landon Elias Nally

March 29th 2013 will mark 6 years since we lost our precious Landon Elias Nally. There is rarely a day that I do not think about him, miss him, or think about what he would look like (although judging by my boys now, he would probably look a lot like his daddy). Just like I remember every detail of when my 3 boys were born, I also remember every detail of that very long weekend. I'd like to share, if you'd like to read. :)

I woke up on Thursday to get ready for my 6 month checkup. Stephen had the day off, but was at work putting a lowering kit on our Chrysler. My mom was going to go to my appointment with me. Since I had a previous miscarriage, I had purchased a fetal Doppler to use at home. The night before my appointment, I listened to Landon's heartbeat. It was something I did regularly, to help put me at ease.

I left for my 9 am appointment. It was exactly 6 months into my pregnancy. I got called into the exam room, and started talking with the nurse. She informed me that the next few appointments were going to be with the other doctors in the office, so I could get to know them. It was also time to schedule the glucose test. She took my blood pressure and weighed me, and said that the midwife would be right in. The midwife came in and chatted for a minute and then she said to go ahead and lay back so we can get the baby's heartbeat. No big deal, right? I had just listened to him last night. So not being able to hear it was something that NEVER crossed my mind. I had passed the 3 month mark, the scary time in pregnancy, it was smooth sailing after that point.

She put the little wand on my belly and started searching. After a few minutes, this unbelievably heavy feeling landed on me like huge anvil. What is going on? He is probably just in a weird position, right? Now the weird thing was that my mom was with me. A few years before I was born, my mom was pregnant with my older brother, Travis Alan Anaya. When she was 9 months pregnant with him, I believe her placenta separated and Travis passed away in the womb. She even was seen in the same doctor’s office as I was, some of the same employees were still there. When the midwife could not hear the heartbeat, my mom freaked out. Which I will say now, was not helpful at all. But those of you who know my mom, can understand that it was to be expected.

After we couldn't find the heartbeat with the Doppler, she asked the nurse to bring in the ultrasound machine. After searching with the ancient ultrasound machine, she still could not see the fluttering heart. I could see Landon, the outline of his body. He looked perfect, but I could not see his heart beating. I didn't even know what to do, what do you do? The midwife wanted to send me over to the hospital to get an ultrasound on a newer machine to confirm what was happening. I called my mother in law, and she called our church. Then the cavalry showed up. I cannot begin to tell you how it felt to know there was army of faith standing with me, not behind me, but right next me. An amazing woman named Amanda, walked with me from the doctor’s office to the hospital. All the while, speaking declarations of life over myself and Landon. Even though I was in a blur, I remember those words.

Once at the hospital, I went back and had the ultrasound. I kept asking, "where's the heart? Is it beating? Is he ok?" Of course, the ultrasound tech could not tell me anything. Amanda was in there with me, so was Justin and my mother in law Pauline. Like I said, I remember every detail, the support I had was absolutely amazing. After the ultrasound I had to walk back to the doctor’s office. During that time, my mom had called Stephen at work and told him to get to the doctor’s office right away, that something was wrong and we couldn't find Landon's heartbeat. When I got back to the doctor’s office, Stephen was just pulling up or more like sliding in sideways while pulling the e-brake and running to my side. He walked up to me and got down on his knees. He started yelling at my stomach, declaring life over Landon. It didn't matter that there were like 4 other women in that waiting room. At that point, I lost it. Why was this happening? What did I do wrong?

Stephen went back with me to see the doctor again and get the results of the ultrasound. The ultrasound confirmed that Landon's heart had stopped beating. The midwife told me that I was to go to the hospital to be induced. I was so far along in the pregnancy that I had to deliver Landon. I can honestly say, that is when the Holy Spirit took over. I told the midwife that I couldn't do that, that I believe in miracles and that I had to give my God a chance to work. She was very accepting of that.

We left the office with a very heavy heart, but also with hope and an overwhelmingly sense of love. I remember thinking, now what? I had to call my sister. My sister and I are very close, not having her there was really hard. I grabbed my Nokia brick phone and went and sat down in the middle of the parking lot and called her. She, herself was very pregnant with my beautiful niece Halle Rose. I know that her not being able to be there with me was very hard on her. Having her there would have helped, but even though she wasn't I know she was still with me - if that makes sense.

The worship team at the church was having practice that night. So we decided to turn into a prayer and worship session, to go after this injustice. I was able to worship; it was hard but I knew I had to do it. I had to be let go of the anger, I had to spiritually fight for my baby boy. That Saturday we decided to go to Redding for Sunday service. I was willing to go anywhere and do anything. We went to the Sunday service at Bethel, and Bill Johnson spoke about loss. The sermon was about wanting healing, and why sometimes it doesn't happen. Really? What are the odds?

We left Redding that afternoon, knowing that the next day was the doctor’s appointment. We had to go in and do another ultrasound to confirm that Landon was gone, or that a miracle had happened. Either way, I knew God was with me. I knew that someday I was going to be a mommy.

On the afternoon of the doctor’s appointment, we had called Stephens sister Tori, and let her know what was going on. She then told some of her friends that she went to school with. A few of them gathered and started praying. I remember feeling so very grateful to those students. To this day, I feel a special bond with them. Our middle son Braylon Matthew is named after one of them. From the moment that Braylon's personality started to emerge, he reminded me of Matt. I believe that naming your children is not something to take lightly, names can be powerful!

The night before we had to go back to the doctor, Stephen and I stayed at our house. Since the Thursday before we had stayed out at his mom and step dads house. For one, I wanted to be around people and being around Mike and Pauline has always been something Stephen and I enjoy. I couldn't stay in our house. We had Landon's room all ready. Clothes in the closet, room painted and crib set up. I had just got a bunch of clothes that I had all laid out on the couch ready wash and fold.

I was so exhausted that I just wanted to sleep. The whole weekend, I was on edge. Anticipating any movement from my belly.  I was aware of every bodily twinge, eagerly awaiting ANY type of movement from my baby.

When we went to the appointment on Monday, I knew in my heart what was going to happen. The doctor came in and did another ultrasound, and it was confirmed. Now I know that hospitals and doctors don't deal with this kind of thing often, so maybe they aren't sure how to handle it. But this was happening to me, it was very real. The doctor then told me that she would call the labor and delivery unit to see when and if they could admit me. When and if?! I know I wasn't a "normal" patient that comes in to have "normal" baby, but come on.  They wouldn't have room for me at the hospital until that afternoon.

When I got to the hospital, they wanted to start an IV and get an epidural in place. A nurse came in to start the IV and was having trouble. I have small veins in my hands. I remember her saying, "Well if you would just relax, I could get a line started..." I looked at her and smiled, thinking that she was lucky I am a very quiet person.

I was admitted at 1pm and they started the inducing medicine. It took a very long time. After I got the epidural, my blood pressure dropped dramatically and I passed out. That was fun, but I knew I did not want to feel anything. A lot of people came to visit me throughout the day. I didn't want it to be a sad room, I love laughter so I tried to keep as upbeat as I could. I loved having probably one the happiest people I know in the room with me, Jenn Stockman. I remember her bringing some worship music in with her, her smile and happiness has always been so contagious.

Growing up, I never had that text book "mother/daughter" relationship. It just wasn't there, and that is another blog in itself! This was a huge factor in my sister and I being so close. All we had was each other, and I am forever grateful for that. Not many people can say that they have that kind of relationship with a sibling, I can. I called my sister as much as possible that day, I know she was there with me in spirit.  This was one of those times that I needed my mommy. I had something better. Someone who wasn't biologically my mom, but chose to be there for me in that way.

Jaime was at my side in that hospital from the minute I got there until I fell asleep after Landon was born. When I say by my side, I mean no bathroom breaks, no eating breaks, nothing. At the end, when the epidural wore off and I could feel every single contraction, she was there. When I was hysterically sobbing from feeling contraction pain and emotional pain at the same time, she was there. I honestly could not have done it without her. She was also there when my Syler was born. Stephen doesn't do well with hospitals (that's kind of an understatement lol), Jaime actually cut Syler's cord. I am so lucky to have her in my life!

I was only 24 weeks along when Landon was born. He was very tiny, but fully formed. I had convinced myself that I did not want to hold him. Mostly that was a defense mechanism, to protect my heart and my emotions. My wonderful husband and Jaime convinced me otherwise. I believe that decision saved me from a lifetime of sadness and regret. I will cherish those moments forever. I remember his tiny face, jump ahead a few years and I see the same little face when I look at Braylon. When Braylon was born, he was identical to what Landon looked like when he was born.

Landon was born really early Tuesday morning, April 3rd 2007. I was discharged from the hospital that afternoon. I remember sitting on the bench outside waiting to be picked up, flowers in hand, but no baby. Completely heartbroken, but covered in love and compassion from a God that wanted nothing more from me but to have faith that He would bring me through this. It wasn't a time for me to ask why, which in today’s world is always the first question people ask in a time of tragedy. People need a reason; they need someone or something to blame. If we had the answers to why bad things happen, then why would we need faith, why would we need God?

Only 2 months later, I found out I was pregnant with Zander. I was shocked to say the least. Was it to soon? I was a nervous wreck the entire pregnancy. We know how that ends, Zander is now 11 years old and every time I look at him, it reminds me that God is good :)

Ready...set....

The last few months have been crazy, to say the least. My mom and my step-dad divorced in May, he is my step-dad but I call him dad because he has been amazing to my sister and I. My youngest brother graduated in June, then left for a year in Sweden as an exchange student. My oldest brother moved to San Diego. Way to many changes for me! In early September my grandpa passed away, and then just 3 weeks later my biological father passed away.

My dad Steve, had been battling alcoholism for as long as I can remember. I knew from a very young age that he would probably die from it. So I thought that I would be prepared. That was far from the truth.

Having to go to Grass Valley with the intent to say goodbye to my father was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. It would be one thing if he was in a normal state of mind and we could hang out and talk. This was a hospice situation. He was bed-ridden to a hospital bed at my grandmas house. He was on oxygen and it was very hard to see. The first day I saw him, he could talk but it was hard for him to catch his breath.  The whole process went very fast. He came home from the hospital on a Sunday, and passed away very early Thursday morning. I left Wednesday morning, knowing that it was the last time I would see him. I told him that I was leaving, and that I loved him very much. My dad was never a very lovey-dovey person, and neither am I. He was able to reach up and hold my hand, he wasn't able to speak but that gesture spoke a thousand words.

I miss him very much. I would call him and talk to him about his crazy grandsons and he would just laugh. He always was the first person to call me on my birthday because he wanted to be the first one to say "Happy Birthday!" and of course as the years went by he added "you ol' hag!" It is just the weirdest feeling, that he is just not there anymore, just gone.

When you lose a parent, I think it has a way of bringing you closer to your siblings. My sister and I have always been very close, and I think this is just something that will bring us closer.

So needless to say my life is still crazy, and I assure you that its about to get even crazier :)

Mothers Day 2011

Mothers Day..A day that at one time, I thought that I would never be able to partake in.

Today in church, my lovely mama Jaime called me out. I was asked to pray over the women that wanted to be mommies, but haven't been able to yet. For those of you who know me, know that this would be WAY out of my box..like miles from my box. But I went with it. I was super nervous and just let the Holy Spirit tell me what to pray.

After church, when my friends were telling me I did a good job. I couldn't help but feel like they were all just being nice! I know that's not right, I just felt that there was so much more I could of said and in a better way.

Mothers Day is a very hard day for me but also a very joyous day. When I was having trouble conceiving it was a day I dreaded. A day that I would watch every other woman out there celebrate while I mourned the fact that I had no baby to hold. Then after I lost Landon, mothers day came a month later. Probably one of the worst days of my life. I remember the hurt I felt in my heart, its a hurt that is like no other. Some of you might say that I shouldn't think of the hurt but of the joy that my kids bring me now. I think its important to remember how you felt in a time of pain, to realize how much God has done to take that pain away. Because He is the only reason I do not feel that pain anymore. I hope that makes sense.

A few years before I was born, my parents had a baby boy named Travis. Travis was still born. Obviously my parents were devastated. And I think it was the reason behind the way they live there lives now. My father is an alcoholic and my mom has been dealing with substance abuse. They have been this way for as long as I can remember. They had no relationship with God, they  had no church family to lead them. They did not know the love of the Father and all of its healing ability. They were dragged into this life of guilt, mourning and sadness that seeped into there every being. It was always there like the elephant in the room. When something bad happens, you have a choice. You happen to life, life doesn't happen to you.

Yes, I mourned the death of Landon, but I didn't let the mourning take over. Was that hard? Absolutely!! I couldn't have done it alone. I had plenty of breakdowns. Its a hard situation to explain unless you have been there, which I pray that no one ever has to be there.

Ultimately you are in charge of your destiny. God has plans for you but you need to read the blue prints. Someone told me one time, its hard to see where your boat is going if you are always bailing out water. When bad things happen its how you react in that moment that will affect the impact it has on your life. So when mothers day comes, I choose to celebrate life and count my blessings :)