I haven’t posted in a hot miunte. Here’s why…
If you had told me five years ago that I’d one day be writing a blog post telling people I am pregnant, I would have laughed, cried, or possibly thrown a fertility medication at you. Not in a mean way — just in a “my hormones are 97% pharmaceutical-grade chaos” way.
But here I am. Five weeks pregnant.
Five.
Weeks.
Pregnant.
Which, for anyone unfamiliar with early pregnancy math, means I am currently the proud host of something roughly the size of a sesame seed who is already dictating my sleep schedule, my appetite, and my emotional stability. Incredible.
The Plot Twist I Didn’t See Coming
After five years of infertility — five years of appointments, needles, waiting rooms, hope, heartbreak, and Googling things no human should ever Google — I had quietly made peace with the idea that maybe this wasn’t going to happen for me.
And then it did.
Except instead of the movie moment where I gasp, clutch the pregnancy test, and sink gracefully to the bathroom floor in a soft, cinematic cry… I stared at the test like it was a prank. Then I took another. Then another. Then I made my husband look at them under three different lighting conditions like we were appraising diamonds.
Romantic, I know.
Joy, But Make It Complicated
Here’s the truth: I am happy. I am terrified. I am grateful. I am grieving. I am hopeful. I am all of these things at the same time, and if that sounds exhausting, trust me — it is.
Infertility doesn’t just switch off because a test turns positive. It lingers. It shadows. It whispers, “Are you sure?” every time you feel a cramp or don’t feel a symptom or wake up at 3 a.m. convinced you dreamt the whole thing.
I’m still checking for bad news the way some people check the weather.
But I’m also letting myself feel joy — tiny, cautious, trembling joy — because this moment deserves to be felt.
For Anyone Still Waiting
If you are reading this and you’re still in the thick of it — still waiting, still hoping, still hurting — I want you to know something:
I see you.
I remember the sting of pregnancy announcements. I remember the way hope can feel like both a lifeline and a punishment. I remember the months that felt like years and the years that felt like a lifetime.
Nothing about my news erases that version of me, or the version of you who is still fighting.
I’m not “on the other side.” I’m just in a new chapter of the same story — one that began with longing, loss, and resilience. And I will never forget the people still standing in the storm.
If you need to mute me, skip this post, or take space, please do. Protect your heart. I would.
What Comes Next
I don’t know what the next weeks will bring. I don’t know how this story will unfold. But for the first time in a long time, I feel something that looks suspiciously like hope.
Messy hope. Fragile hope. Hope with trust issues.
But hope, nonetheless.
And today, that’s enough.
Tag: family
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A love letter to my irrational brain, which is just trying its best.
Let’s take a gentle stroll through the woods of my psyche—don’t worry, it’s well-lit, there are snacks, and the poodles are here for emotional support. Today’s topic: my biggest fears, ranked not by severity (FYI).
💀 1. Death & Dying: The Classic Crowd Favorite
Look, I know this one is universal, but my brain treats it like a hobby. Some people collect stamps; I collect intrusive thoughts about mortality while brushing my teeth.
I’ll be minding my business, doing something wholesome like folding laundry, when suddenly my brain whispers, “One day you won’t exist.”
Thank you, brain. Very cool. Very relaxing.I try to comfort myself by imagining I’ll become a ghost who lightly haunts people by rearranging their throw pillows. If I must go, I’m going with cozy chaos.
🎈 2. Balloons: The Silent Menace
Some people see balloons and think “party.”
I see balloons and think “unpredictable airborne landmines.”They sit there, all shiny and innocent, but at any moment—any moment—they could explode with the emotional force of a thousand jump scares. And don’t even get me started on people who twist balloon animals. Why would you willingly handle a pressurized rubber bomb? Why?
If you ever see me at a birthday party, just know I’m smiling through the fear.
🕷️ 3. Spiders: Eight Legs Too Many
I respect nature. I love nature. I do not love nature when it enters my home.
Spiders always show up like they’re delivering bad news. They don’t walk—they arrive. And they always choose the worst possible moment:
- Shower time
- Bedtime
- Any time I’m home alone and feeling emotionally fragile
I don’t kill them because I’m a good person (and also because James saves them and their precious, yucky lives).
🧗 4. Heights: Because Gravity Has Never Been My Friend
I don’t trust anything that requires me to be more than two feet off the ground. Ladders? No. Ferris wheels? Absolutely not. Glass floors in tall buildings? Jail.
My legs turn to overcooked noodles the moment I’m elevated. I once climbed a small hill and immediately began drafting my will. I’m not built for vertical adventures. I’m built for horizontal lounging.
🎥 5. Scary Movies: Why Pay to Suffer?
Some people love scary movies because they enjoy the adrenaline. I enjoy not having nightmares for six to eight business days.
If I watch a horror movie, I become a full-time paranormal investigator in my own home. Every creak? Ghost. Every shadow? Demon. Every poodle staring into the corner like they see something? I’m moving.
I don’t need fictional terror. My life is scary enough.
🌿 Final Thoughts
Fear is a natural part of being human, and honestly, mine keep life interesting. They also give my family endless entertainment, which I consider a public service.
If you share any of these fears, welcome to the club. We meet weekly. Snacks provided. Balloons strictly forbidden.
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Today, we celebrate Mary — sister‑in‑law, friend, culinary wizard, and the only person I know who can listen to your problems, solve them, and feed you a five‑star meal all before noon. Turning 30 has never looked so confident.
Let’s start with the obvious:
Mary is a good listener. Not the “uh‑huh, yeah, totally” kind of listener — the real deal. The kind who remembers details you forgot you told her. The kind who asks follow‑up questions. The kind who makes you feel like your story about the weird thing your dog did is actually riveting.
If you ever need help? Mary is already there. You don’t even have to finish the sentence. “Hey Mary, could you—”
“Yes.”
Now, let’s talk about her cooking. Mary doesn’t just cook meals. She summons them. She conjures them. She channels some ancient grandmother energy and produces dishes that make you question every life choice that led you to eating boxed mac and cheese (though I will definitely keep doing this). If she ever opened a restaurant, the rest of us would simply give up.
But don’t let her warm, nurturing energy fool you — Mary is strong‑willed. She has opinions. She has standards. She has a backbone made of steel and possibly reinforced with scripture. Which brings me to her unwavering faith.
Mary’s faith is steady, grounding, and deeply inspiring — the kind of faith that doesn’t need to be announced because it’s lived.
She’s also extremely smart, in that quiet, unassuming way where she’ll casually solve a problem you’ve been spiraling about for three days. She’s the person you want on your team for trivia, life decisions, and any situation involving paperwork.
And then there’s her beauty. Mary is a natural beauty, the kind who wakes up looking like she’s starring in a skincare commercial. Meanwhile, I wake up looking like a raccoon who lost a fight with a pillow. It’s fine. I’m fine.
But perhaps the most magical thing about Mary is how naturally she stepped into motherhood. She is a natural mother — patient, intuitive, loving, and somehow always prepared with snacks. Watching her with her son is like watching someone do exactly what they were meant to do.
And speaking of her son…
Mary gave James and I our first nephew — our Godson — the tiny human who instantly became the family’s favorite. (We all know it. It’s okay. We’ve accepted it.)
So here’s to Mary at 30:
To her heart, her humor, her strength, her meals, her faith, her beauty, her brain, and her ability to make all of us better just by being in the room.
Happy birthday, Mary. You make 30 look effortless — which is rude, honestly, but we love you anyway. -
When I launched this blog, I assumed maybe five people would read it: me, my husband, and whichever people stumbled upon it by accident. But then my family started sending me their reactions, and suddenly I felt like I was hosting a very wholesome, very emotional focus group.
My sister Jasmine came in hot with a review that honestly belongs on the back of a book jacket:
I am so unbelievably proud of my sister and the space she’s created with her writing. Her blog isn’t just something you read, it’s something you feel. One post will have you smiling like an idiot, the next might hit you right in the chest, and somehow she makes both feel safe and honest.She has this way of putting everyday thoughts into words that make you stop and think, “Wait… that’s exactly how I feel.” It’s relatable without trying too hard, emotional without being dramatic, and funny in that effortless, clever way that makes you exhale through your nose and reread the line again because it’s just that good.
Her writing makes me feel connected to her in a deeper way. It reminds me how thoughtful she is, how observant, and how brave it is to share pieces of yourself with the world. Watching her build something that feels so her makes me proud in that quiet but overwhelming way like, “That’s my sister” kind of proud.
And if you haven’t read her blog yet… you’re missing out. Just be prepared to feel something.
Then there’s my mom, who is still shocked I’m sharing anything personal with the internet at all:
I am in awe of my daughter for having the courage to start a blog about her life that she is sharing with anyone who wants to read it! She doesn’t really share her much about her life to her family let alone strangers too!
The topics that she has chosen to write about so far, are topics and people that she cares a great deal about! Each blog I read makes me look at things from her perspective, and know how she really feels about each thing!
She cares deeply about the people she loves and lets into her circle!
For her to allow anyone to know how she really feels about things, takes a mountain of courage I knew she had but didn’t think she would ever display!
She is fierce, loyal and blunt (almost to a fault)!
I believe this blog lets her express to everyone her true self without actually have to say things out loud!
It is very well written and feels real! It made me happy, laugh, cry, wonder, and be excited to read the next one.
And then there’s my husband James:
When I first read Kelsey’s writing in her blog, I thought I was reading an excerpt from a professional publication. I had no idea she was such a talented writer. Im thrilled that she decided to start blogging. Writing can be very cathartic for some, and I really think this will be good for her. I love reading her posts and am excited to see how she grows as a writer. Love you, Kelso

So yes, my family has thoughts. Emotional ones. Proud ones. And reading them made me realize something: writing might be the first time I’ve let the people closest to me see the inside of my head without me having to actually speak words out loud. Honestly? It feels kind of nice.
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Every family has that one person who feels everything deeply, loves loudly, and tells stories like they’re auditioning for a heartfelt indie film. In my family, that person is Jasmine. She’s dramatic in the most endearing way, emotional in the most human way, and loving in the way that makes you feel lucky to be part of her world.
The Dramatic One (And Proud of It)
Jasmine has a flair for the dramatic that could power an entire season of Grey’s Anatomy. She can turn a simple story about her dream into a full‑blown saga, complete with plot twists, emotional beats, and at least one moment where she pauses for effect like she’s waiting for the audience to gasp.
And the best part? She’s fully aware of it.
Her dramatic storytelling isn’t chaos — it’s a gift. It’s how she brings people in, how she makes the ordinary feel extraordinary, how she turns life into something worth paying attention to. She’s passionate in a way that makes you remember what it feels like to care deeply about things.The Emotional One (In the Best Possible Way)
Jasmine feels everything at a level most people reserve for season finales. But instead of being overwhelmed by her emotions, she channels them into connection. She’s the person who will cry with you or on you, laugh with you or at you, sit with you or on you, and somehow know exactly what you need without you having to say it.
She’s emotional because she’s empathetic. She’s emotional because she listens. She’s emotional because she cares — fiercely, instinctively, and without hesitation.
And honestly? The world needs more people like that.The Loving One
Jasmine loves like it’s her superpower. She loves her people loudly, consistently, and without conditions. She’s the kind of sister who will hype you up even when you’re wearing your “I’m just running errands” outfit (which I do a lot). She’s the kind of friend who remembers the tiny details you forgot you even mentioned. She’s the kind of human who makes you feel seen.
Her love is warm, wholehearted, and sometimes hilariously intense — but in the most comforting way. If Jasmine loves you, you know it. There is no ambiguity. She will make sure of that.The Helpful One
If Jasmine hears the faintest whisper of someone needing help, she’s already halfway out the door with a bag and a plan. She’s the person who shows up. Every time. Even when it’s inconvenient. Even when she’s tired. Even when she has her own things going on.
She helps because she genuinely wants to. Because she believes people deserve support. Because she can’t imagine doing anything else.
And she does it all without expecting anything in return.The Listener Everyone Wishes They Had
Some people listen to respond. Jasmine listens to understand.
She’s the kind of listener who makes you feel like your words matter. Like your story is worth telling. Like you’re not alone in whatever you’re carrying.
She doesn’t rush you. She doesn’t judge you (all the time). She doesn’t try to fix everything. She just shows up — fully, attentively, compassionately.
It’s a rare gift, and she has it in abundance.A Sister Worth Celebrating
She’s dramatic, passionate, emotional, loving, helpful, and an incredible listener. She’s a force of nature wrapped in warmth. She’s a walking heart with a flair for theatrics. She’s the person you want in your corner, in your life, and in your family (but don’t take her to a nickelback concert, she gets rowdy).
And I’m lucky — truly lucky — that she’s my sister.
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Or as I like to call them: Lenny and Gilbert. My boys. My sons. My bubbas.
Lenny & Gilbert: The Poodles Who Run My Life
If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to share a home with two standard poodles, imagine living with a pair of highly intelligent, emotionally expressive teddybears who happen to have legs for days and opinions about everything. That’s my daily reality with Lenny and Gilbert — the furry co-authors of my chaos, my joy, and my ever-growing heart that keeps getting bigger (like the Grinch).
Lenny: My Soulmate
Lenny is the older brother, though he’d prefer the term “distinguished gentleman.” who behaves like he’s been through several lifetimes and is frankly tired of everyone’s nonsense and just wants his ball…and food. His hobbies include:- Staring pensively out windows like he’s contemplating the meaning of life – then barks at nothing
- Judging me when I am singing or dancing
- Sitting on me, not next to me — because he doesn’t believe in boundaries
He’s the dog who senses emotions before I do. If I’m stressed, he materializes like a therapist with his kisses and nose nudges. If I’m happy, he nods approvingly, as if to say, “Yes, Moms. Continue.”
Gilbert: The Chaos Goblin
Gilbert, on the other hand, is the embodiment of pure, unfiltered enthusiasm. He wakes up every morning like he’s been shot out of a confetti cannon. His life philosophy is simple:
If it moves, chase it. If it doesn’t move, boop it. If it can’t be booped, bark at it until it reconsiders. Or just bark at nothing at all alongside his brother.
Gilbert is the reason I can never leave food unattended. He’s also the reason I laugh at least ten times a day. He runs and jumps like he is a gazelle. He has no fear. He is also the dog that wants to be in bed as much as can be.
Together: A Perfect, Ridiculous Duo
Individually, they’re charming. Together, they’re a sitcom.
The occasional wrestling match that starts around 8 every evening (witching hour) that sounds like I’m harboring two moose in my living room. They share toys, beds, and a mutual belief that they are, in fact, lap dogs.
Why They Matter So Much
Lenny and Gilbert aren’t just pets. They’re the heartbeat of my home. They’re the comedic relief, the emotional support, the warm bookends on either side of me during quiet evenings. They make ordinary days feel like stories worth telling.
And honestly? My life is better — messier, louder — because of them.

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I am sharing a personal note that I had recently wrote to my husband as a gift. For anyone who knows me, I don’t do heartfelt or “lovey dovey” crap. So this was a big deal to him.
To my Husband (James, Jim, Jimmy),
I am writing you this letter as a memento for you to have for times and moments when life is hard and times are tough, or even just because.
Lately, our lives have seemed impossible, one thing happening after another, and we’re always just in limbo. I want you to know how strong of a man you are (both mentally and physically 😉). I wouldn’t have been able to get through the last few months without you and your unwavering support. I wish you could see you the way that I see you. I wish you could feel the way you make me feel, even after all these years. You are steady. You are calm. You are strong. You are silly. You are forever and always loved.
I love hearing you laugh, no matter where you are in the house, or what mood I am in. If I hear you, I immediately smile. We have a special bond like no one else in the world. I trust you with every piece of me. It is surreal that we have been able to grow together, learn together, laugh together, cry together, and be in pain together over the last 15 years. It is weird to think that it has already been so long, and we still have so much more time to enjoy together with more adventures and experiences. We are a team.
I still feel butterflies when you look at me from across the room and smile. It still makes me melt. I love that we can sit in complete silence with each other and be comfortable. You are such a hardworking man which the boys and I definitely take for granted. We don’t always remember how hard you work to give us a warm home and a stable life.
You are THE most handsome man, and I get to look at you every day. How lucky am I? Your loyalty is the most precious gift you could ever give me. You are the only person I want to hug forever and never let go. Thank you for being the kind of husband who lifts me up and supports my choices, and makes sure I am doing what’s best for me.
You are such an amazing Dads to our two boys, and hopefully one day to our child. You deserve the world.
In every lifetime, I would choose you. Endlessly. I love you.
Always,
Your wife,
Kelsey“Look, in my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person is still going to think the sun shines out your ass. That’s the kind of person that’s worth sticking with.”
—Juno (2007)