infertilitytofamily

The Waiting…

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Over the last five years, I have started using a Lent devotional from Biola University. This practice has been so helpful for me. I haven’t always been faithful to do it everyday, but even still, I find it helpful to create a type of rhythm. I enter into the waiting of Lent with purpose and direction, which in turn has led to deeper meaning for me personally.

This beautiful poem from today’s excerpt felt very close to my heart. Much of what was discussed was the way Mary pondered the events of Jesus’ life in her heart, as his mother:

Poetry: A Child in Starlight
By Elmer Diktonius 

[Translated by Martin S. Allwood]
There is a child,
A new-born child—
A rosy, new-born child.

The child whimpers—
All children do.
And the mother takes the child to her breast.
Then it is quiet.
So is every child.

The roof is not over tight—
Not all roofs are.
And the star puts
It’s silver muzzle through the chink,
And steals up to the little one’s head.
Stars like children.

And the mother looks up at the star
And understands—
All mothers understand.
And presses her frightened baby
To her breast—
But the child sucks quietly in starlight:
All children suck in starlight.

It knows nothing yet about the cross:
No child does.

As I read this poem, it struck me that every mother will watch her child/ren endure a cross, possibly more than one. My mother watched me endure infertility for nine long years. She watched me heave that cross around. She watched me break under it’s weight at times. She pondered this and I’m sure had flashbacks to me as a little girl, wild and carefree. It’s so hard to watch your baby carry a cross.

My boys are still pretty tiny. They have only spent three and a half years on this planet, such a short space of time, yet they are learning so much. A few days ago our eldest, by one whole minute, finally was forced to give up his pacifier/dodie. In his small, three year old world, this was his cross. The dodie actually split in two and my husband and I made the decision that it was time to not replace the dodie.

Bedtime that first night was a little rough. His eyes welled with tears after he asked for his dodie and we told him there was “no more dodie.” He asked me to go to the store to get a new one and I said “it’s time to be a big boy.” Talk about heart wrenching!

That was a few days ago now. Life had moved on. Then I read the devotional for today and I felt tears welling up in my own eyes. As I sat across from my boys, looking at each of them, I pondered why this was coming up for me. It hit me that it was the end of my babies being babies. Cohen had willingly given up his dodie long ago, and that felt fine because Cohen always wants to be bigger than he is and further along in life than he is. Kidran, on the other hand, has felt a little more needing of nurturing so I felt okay about letting him still have his dodie. However, now I was gently forcing him to take a step towards growing up. I was encouraging him to turn his back on being a baby and walk boldly towards becoming an independent little boy. Hard swallow. Lump in my throat. I did not like the moment.

This brings me back to my devotional reading. Mary was my kind of mom. God was so gracious to have her show us moms that it’s okay to ponder our children, to store up memories for later to relive and visit. I replay that line “let them be little” over and over sometimes. They won’t be little forever momma, ponder these little times. Ponder them wanting to be by your side every second, not giving you any space to breathe. Ponder there outbursts, they are waging through a forest of emotions that are new and overwhelming to them. Ponder the toys everywhere, the handprints on the windows, the 100th reading of the same story, and those cuddles that come out of nowhere. Store up those things in your heart. You are gonna need them for later.

As I sifted through these thoughts, I pondered Easter and the waiting it involves/d. I naturally turned to my longest period of waiting to date. It was the nine years of waiting to be a mom. Waiting for sleepless nights. Waiting for dirty diapers to be changed. Waiting for my baby to spit up all over my clean shirt for the third time in one day. Let me tell you something truthful though. God did something to me in the waiting. He began making me a mountain(which is what my little piece of pottery says). If you let Him, he will do that for you too. There can be purpose in our pain if we let there be. Will it be fun and easy? Probably not. Will it help others? I can almost guarantee it. Will it be hard? Yep.

The other picture I have added to this blog is a picture of the pendant my dear friend Ailsa gave me at one of my lowest points in our infertility journey. It helped me in the waiting and came at a time when my world seemed bleak, dark, and hopeless. Yet in time, the image of the dove carrying the olive branch, began to create a strong hope in me. Hope for the future. Hope that my waiting would come to an end. Hope that someday I would lay down my cross of infertility, and that I would resurrect as a mother.

As you enter into these final days of this Lenten season, take time to ponder. Remember Mary. Remember that God is with you. What are you waiting for? What cross are you carrying? Where do you want to see resurrection in your life? Take some time to ask these questions, talk them over with a close friend, your husband, or God. Lent is almost over and my prayer for you is that your waiting is almost over.

If you would like some extra encouragement in learning to practice some spiritual disciplines check out Lacy Clark Ellman. She has a beautiful website and podcast with tons of valuable resources to help you begin to create space to practice things like Lent.

*I still have copies of my book as well The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants. If you are local to the Kirkland/Seattle area contact me directly through my Facebook page @breannajochud to buy a copy directly. Otherwise you can order a copy on Amazon. I would encourage you as well to think of buying this book as a gift for a friend or for yourself to learn more about the struggle of infertility. You can also find my info on Instagram @breannachud.

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I gave birth to a paper baby!

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When I was in high school, I liked English. My teacher however made it very clear to me, on more than one occasion, that English did not like me. She held my paper up, covered in red marks, in front of both classes, and announced that I made the most mistakes in both her classes. It was a defining moment. From that point on, I became pretty insecure about my ability to write throughout high school.

Imagine my surprise then, when I tested out of the basic English composition class to move onto the next level when I arrived at college! It gave me a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, I could actually write. Combine that spark with years of journaling, and I decided to ignore my high school teachers decision of my ability.

I did this when I started blogging for the community coffee shop I opened in Northern Ireland called The Press. I would share about the experiences in the coffee shop and announce our upcoming events. I LOVED IT! Writing had always been an outlet and at that point I started to find my own voice.

Fast forward a few years. Bryan and I decided to give IVF one last shot, no pun intended! I figured the easiest way to keep people informed of our progress was through my personal blog. I had only one or two entries at that point. I guess I also need to rewind and insert this little fact. Through the years that we struggled with infertility I also journaled. I used my writing as a way of processing my pain, as a way of praying, as a way of dealing with the grief I carried, but didn’t always want the world to know. I also didn’t want to consistently be “Debbie Downer” by always talking about the sadness I felt. This could be partly my personality or partly the lies we believe that people can’t handle our pain and suffering, I’m not really sure.

Anyway, back to what I was saying. Years before the blog started, Bryan and I had made a special trip to London to see Phantom of the Opera with the London cast. It was one of my bucket list items. It happened around my 30th birthday along with our first failed round of IVF. As we sat having dinner in a little Italian restaurant across from the theater, we decided that someday, when our family had finally arrived, by whatever means it came, that we would share our story in a book.

That moment has arrived. The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants is our story from my personal perspective. I allow you to crack open pages of my own journals, private pictures, sketches and my honest response to the struggle of infertility. I really hold nothing back. I am not trying to shock people, but I am trying to wake people up. This issue is painful. Painful for those struggling and painful for those who are watching someone struggle. 1 out of every 8 couples will deal with infertility now, 1 out of 8!!! Next time you are around that many couples, just look around because I would bet my own money that someone you know really well is struggling. It’s that real friends.

This book took me almost two years to complete. Life happened in a not so kind way almost immediately after I had the full manuscript completed. My father was diagnosed with cancer. At times the book felt like a burden I couldn’t shake while dealing with the grief of watching my father deteriorate. Other times it felt like an escape and a lifeline. What definitely helped was writing. Writing has become a way of life for me. Thanks to authors like Shauna Niequist, Jen Hatmaker, Elizabeth Gilbert, and Brene′ Brown, I began to believe in the power of my own voice. I also had my husband and amazing family and friends cheering me on too!

So the other night, March 12th at 7 p.m. I had my very first book launch! I was overwhelmed to see so many lovely faces come. Some I hadn’t seen in years, and some I have only recently become friends with. It was a beautiful collection of people and I am so grateful for each person taking the time to come and support me in such a tangible way.

Now I have the privilege of promoting this much needed book. I get to share my story again and again with people. Validating each time that what I went through, what we went through, and maybe what you are going through will not be wasted if we let it help and guide others. Our pain truly can bring comfort to someone else’s suffering, if we will let it. It means standing with our hands open instead of with clenched fists.

“I would describe infertility as a process of purification. You go through the fire, but at the end you come out your truest self.” p. 51 The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants

What have you experienced by way of pain in your life? Are you willing to open that area up to even just one person? If so, I think you will find there is healing there. There is purpose in your pain there. There is also forward momentum that helps you leave the past in the past and move towards your future with hope and joy. Please share your story, the world needs it!

You can find me on Instagram @breannachud and on Facebook @breannajochud. If you would like to purchase the book you can find it herefile11Bre Book - Front Cover V1 (1)file17file6file8file16file7file9file-2 (2)file5file10file12file15

Take my breath away…

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Since moving back to Washington and getting settled I have found the pace of life here starkly different to that of Northern Ireland. I knew this before we even arrived but nothing could really prepare me for it. Yet part of me knows it’s not only the location of this busy professional environment that I find myself in. It is also this season of life with small children. Tasks never get crossed off your to-do list and when they do, the item is added back to the list the next day. Cleaning and laundry seem like complete wastes of time yet add a nurturing feel to our home that I love. (Just so you know it happens less frequently these days and the laundry sometimes doesn’t get folded, just picked through if it’s clean!)

I speak of being intentional often and yet rarely apply my intentions. I find I am tired so the boys watch another show. Life is rich, full and good but this also means that we are juggling schedules, the boys, sickness at times, the weather dependent activities and the growing personalities of our two gifts. All of which Bryan handles with such grace and a growing capacity that astounds me.

Our boys are changing rapidly and growing so quickly it’s hard to keep up! They add words to their vocabulary daily and seem to be mastering new skills often without our assistance. Having two at the same time has been incredible!! So difficult at times but at this stage all I can really see is the unique and lifelong friendship that is being cultivated between these two very different little humans.

Kidran is sensitive, observant to the tiniest details, loves to roughhouse and throw things (anything really!) He is also more sensitive and his feelings get hurt deeply, he will linger when we cuddle and I will soak it up! He enjoys being around people but will usually take time away from the crowd on his own and have a little chat to himself or sing a song. Cohen is our social butterfly. Anxious to meet people and every experience life throws at him. Cohen is a people pleaser but also has some big emotions. I often say that he is Italian!! Cohen loves being chased right now and is all about cars. He also loves to resolve problems for others, especially his brother. Their favourite book is The Three Little Pigs. They love reading along and saying ‘Oh no!’ when the wolf enters the story. They prefer outside play if it’s offered but will settle for jumping on beds and hide and seek when the weather isn’t cooperating. They play so well together and annoy each other but make up quickly and laugh often with and at each other. They make each other laugh harder than anyone can, aside from Bryan.

Yesterday we had an unexpected nice spell of sunny weather. So while still in their PJ’s I let them loose outside. They dumped dirt on each other, slid down our little hill on their bums, chased each other, drew on the sidewalk and got dirty. When they came inside they began sliding off our bed with their dirty little faces. The light was streaming in and I quickly ran to get the camera. I so rarely take ‘real’ photos anymore but love it when I do. These pics of Kiki caught the light just right and Cohen’s cheesy smile and crystal blue eyes melt my heart! I find when I stop the busyness long enough to really take them in I find they take my breath away! They are so beautiful inside and out!

Despite the different pace of life I have began hanging out with some old and new friends. I keep meeting other Moms in parks and end up meeting eventually. We have had a couple of magical evenings the past few weeks and I am so incredibly thankful for these blossoming friendships that are coming from many areas of life.

Yet one area of life I would truly value some prayers in. So I have written a book about our long journey through infertility mainly from my perspective with the help of some other friends and family too. With our schedules it is the last thing I get to. I have sent a proposal to one publishing company and am waiting to hear back. Yet I also wonder if I should print the book myself through Blurb.com ( a book-making website). I find myself stuck at this point. Not knowing the next step to take or how to take it. Doing it myself feels overwhelming yet possibly necessary as actually getting published seems nearly impossible. So for those of you who knew I had written the book, I haven’t forgotten about it. It’s still in process and I believe so strongly there is a place for it amongst other infertility books. I have shared parts of it with close friends who are also struggling and it has resonated so strongly with them which has felt like confirmation that I still must print/publish it. If you think of it, please send your prayers and thoughts my way for this project. I desperately want to complete it in the next few months. Watch this space!

Thanks for reading and I hope the sun is shining wherever you find yourself today!!

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The Nursery…

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This picture is of our old nursery, our boys first bedroom. The nursery has so much significance as you prepare for the arrival of your first child/children. You imagine your child sleeping here, waking here, playing here. You carefully choose the colour of the walls, the type of crib you want your baby to sleep in, the changing table you will use more times than you could ever have imagined. You wash their tiny, little clothes and place them on hangers or in drawers. You place their teddies and blankets in the crib/s and anxiously wait for their arrival. You prepare space in your life for this new little human being about to join your family.

Yet the nursery is also a way for the parents to mentally prepare their checklist of ‘Are we actually ready to bring this baby home from the hospital’? You may store your hospital bag in this room, you may have your cotton wool for cleaning up your baby’s dirty bum, you may keep an abundance of newborn nappies here. You try to prepare for something you have never experienced (if this is your first child). As you countdown the days to your due date you also countdown the projects left to finish in the nursery and possibly around the house. Many of which will be left untouched for years after that first babies arrival, this my friend is perfectly fine and acceptable.

As time went on and we organized our nursery, I realized it told so much of our story. On one wall was pictures of Bryan and I as babies with our own parents with the letters of our last name hung below representing the blending of our two lives to make one. In one corner you can see Bryan’s trophies from football over the years which in the beginning was one of our main instigators for moving to Northern Ireland. On another wall we hung a world map, hoping that our boys will love adventure and travel as much as their parents do and to remind them of the big, extravagant world that awaits their explorations. This map also had attached to it individual pieces of art representing each boys life that my mother-in-love painted for us.

We had two cribs in their nursery. Eventually they couldn’t sleep together because they needed more space to stretch and grow. One crib was borrowed from friends who were some of our closest Northern Irish family. Their two children both slept in that crib and now ours had too. The other crib is warmly referred to as The Box. This crib was loaned to us by a Dutch friend who we met through church. We always seemed to gravitate towards each other with an understanding of being a foreigner living in a different land. The final wall though was our most precious. It held a bright, lime green frame. Inside that frame were scans of our boys as embryos as well as in the womb at 20 weeks. It held pictures of our first family photoshoot with our tired eyes, contented smiles and my slightly swollen belly still present from carrying the boys for 35 weeks.

As we prepared our hearts to leave Northern Ireland, (which by the way I am not sure how you actually prepare to leave a place you love dearly), I would walk into their nursery often. I would stand and absorb the details, the smell, the light, the memories that room held for me. Nights of feeding my boys, naptimes, white noise shouting from behind a closed door, hearing the boys wake in the morning and going into get them up with their jammies and sleepy eyes. Even as I write this I pray I never forget those sweet, precious moments of the first bedroom they possessed. My eyes are welling up with tears and I have a lump in my throat as I vividly recount that time of our life.

Not only did we leave behind the boys first room, a house that we had finally filled with the sounds of our boys pitter patter running up and down the hallway. We left behind one of the most beautiful, challenging, fulfilling, heartbreaking seasons of our life together. I haven’t written about our move that much. The reason is because it is so painful to do so. Let me explain as best as I can.

We are loving this new life we have begun back in the states. In many ways it seems like our lives here are just extending from 2003 when we left Kirkland to begin our pursuit of moving to Northern Ireland. We still have many of the same friends and get to connect with them as often as we can, we are back in the same town we went to University in, Bryan loves his job and is thriving in it. The closeness to family is so special right now. I am so thankful to be staying with good friends while we wait for the little house we are going to rent to open up in December. We know we made the right move at the right time and are thankful to be here.

However, we still feel very much Northern Irish. We long for a cuppa with a bar of galaxy chocolate or a digestive biscuit. We long for a drive to the North Coast to visit friends and soak up the landscape of sea and cliffs. We long for the short drive to the Big Smoke(Belfast) to the Christmas Market with friends. We long for a curry from Bengal Spice on a Saturday night with our friends. We long for the closeness of community with people we had done so much life with over the years. We long for the Bush Road and Dungannon. We long for the slower pace of life. We long for the proximity to the rest of Europe making it possible to travel to places like Italy and France. We long for the people who carved themselves into our hearts, never to be forgotten. We long for it all.

We don’t know what the future holds and there is no point clinging to the past. The present is our home. So today, I reflect with a humble, thankful heart for the fullness of our life both there and here. The two look vastly different but both show me the goodness of God in the land of the living. I stand with my hands outstretched and open once again to all that God has in store.

The Necklace…

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Last night I gave our two energetic boys a bath. While they played in the bath I put fresh sheets on our bed. I could hear Cohen whining a bit so I went back into the bathroom to find that Cohen (it’s always Cohen) had pooped in the bath. Thus a fresh bath was drawn and the boys enjoyed having more time to splash and play. Once Cohen was dried and in his PJ’s, he headed downstairs to watch a show while I got Kidran out to get him ready for bed. In the moments while I dried him off, I lifted him up to put his arms into his PJ’s. Each time I tried to put his arm into his sleeve he leaned into me and hugged me tight. This went on for five minutes at least. He would lean out, look at me, smile and then lean in for another tight squeeze. Of course my Momma’s heart melted. These are the moments I am sure Mary pondered in her heart. These are the moments that feel like I am touching heaven. In these moments, I am the reality of a dream so long sought after. I am a mother, who is holding her precious child. These are also the moments I hoped for that caused me so much pain at times as I wondered if they would ever come to be.

Flashback to the image above. The one of me wearing a beautifully crafted necklace, eyes closed tightly, touching my swollen bump while multiple hands pour out heartfelt prayers over me. I remember that moment so clearly. It was two days before my scheduled C-Section. I was uncomfortably large, feeling sharper pains by the day, anticipating the arrival of our two miracles. The women hosting my baby shower and those attending had walked this painfully long journey of infertility with me. These babies were as much theirs as they were mine. Each of them had cried with or for me at some stage, prayed and longed for the day when they would see me become a mother. In that moment I had the privilege of representing hope fulfilled, no longer hope deferred.

After a nine year wait I knew what it meant to experience hope deferred. At times I wanted to throw hope into the sea and never think of it again. I couldn’t squelch my hope though, which if I’m honest was annoying. My hope kept rising, kept resurfacing, kept appearing.

Over those difficult years I wore the necklace you see in that picture. I used to rub it between my fingers as I prayed for our future children. I used it as the image for a women’s conference at our church and now I even have it tattooed on my wrist. So many people knew of this necklace, they knew of its significance to me. The necklace was a timely gift from my dear friend Ailsa during one of my lowest points. I treasured the generous gift from the moment I received it and the necklace became a reminder of hope. A hope that was strong, resilient and based on the promise from a good God that someday I would be a mother. It brought me strength on days when I didn’t believe or couldn’t believe it would happen. It reminded me on days when I wanted to forget. It brought me comfort when I needed it the most. In many ways it was my own Ebenezer stone, reminding me of all God had done so far in my life, and encouraging me to keep believing for what He hadn’t done. It kept my flickering flame of a dwindling hope alive when the circumstances of our situation nearly snuffed that flame out.

I will not lie to you and say that this hope was easy to carry. It was not. Some days it felt like a ton weight placed on my back. This hope caused me to question my faith, caused me to correct some faulty doctrines in my own belief system, this hope caused me to relinquish the way in which I saw myself as a mother and allowed me to open my heart to many other forms of mothering. Some of you may be at the beginning of a very long journey, one which may be causing you much heartache. Some of you may be in the middle and some of you may be approaching the end of a difficult period of time. Where is your hope? Do you need more hope today? What would remind you, visually of God’s faithfulness and character on the days when you need it the most? What would ignite your own hope fire? Whatever it is, find it, use it, do it and keep at it.

After the boys went to bed last night, I looked down at my wrist. My symbol of hope has been birthed into two, vivacious boys. My hope that was deferred has been resurrected in abundance. I could not and would not have planned the way my hope was fulfilled and most likely you can’t either. This is the way of Jesus and His mystery. He has a third way for you as He did for me. Your situation or circumstances are not unchangeable. Yet your outcome may look very different to what you are dreaming. So today, as you look at the picture of my wrist, with this tattoo forever marking this personal journey for me, look also at my open hand. Keep your hands open to that which God may place in it. Open up your dreams and your hopes, because most likely what He has in store is far better than you could dream up yourself!

Band of Mothers…

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Autumn is coming. I know this because I watched leaves fall from the trees as I ran on Sunday afternoon. I know this because I watched my boys experience their first pumpkin patch. I know this because the air is getting cooler, requiring another layer of clothing most days. I love this time of year and being back in the Pacific Northwest for it has been sweet. So many beautiful colours on display with the contrast of mountains and evergreens as the backdrop, it’s stunning!

This season of year is also a busy one for our little family. Bryan is in full motion coaching which means long hours and some trips away with the team. The boys and I try to be at as many home games as we can and it’s so much fun! This past Saturday his team had a game and we went(they won which was great!) While we were there I met another young Mother who was there supporting the opposing team. As we stood on the sidelines, watching the game as well as our little boys playing together, we chatted. And I mean like serious chatting. We covered everything from potty training to how we met our husbands to the place of transition we are both currently in to our philosophies on ‘letting go’ as Moms. She was refreshing, genuine and a kindred spirit. She is part of the Band of Mothers I admire so much.

A big reason I could stand and connect with her in such a deep way was because the rest of the Band of Mothers and future Mothers stepped in to care for my boys and make sure they stayed safe, entertained and well-fed while I enjoyed making a new friend. The time they gave me with this fellow Mom felt like a gift and that’s what I took it as.

I am thankful for this ever expanding Band of Mothers. I have some who are years past where I now stand, others who are a few years ahead, some right smack in the middle with me and others who are just beginning. We have so much to share, gain and learn from each other. It is a privilege to know so many incredible Moms and feel like I can glean from them anytime I need to. Knowing this group of women are with me has helped make this transition so much easier. Do you have a Band of Mothers you turn to? Who is in your Band of Mothers? Go to them, ask them, just chat through life. I promise, you won’t regret it.

PS For those Moms who are making it through each day but could use a bit of fun and encouragement that you are not alone, check out tryingtofeedmykids. This is an Instagram page I recently started that is helping me enjoy feeding my kids a little more. Not all of us can be Nigella Lawson or Betty Crocker!

From Infertility to family…

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I have a secret to tell you…come close, I’m gonna whisper it.

I am writing my first book.

‘I’ means me, little old Breanna Jo Chud from Nampa, Idaho. ‘am writing’ translates to currently doing which is true, it’s actually nearly done. ‘my first book’ implies that there is more to come which I hope is equally true.

After our first failed round of ICSI fertility treatment Bryan surprised me with an overnight trip to London to see Phantom of the Opera with the London cast for my 30th birthday. This fulfilled a dream I had since university and was a great distraction from the pain of our pursuit to start our family. On that little trip we went to a small, authentic Italian restaurant close to the theatre. We ate thin crust pizza, dared each other to eat green olives which we both hate and continued to dream of our future together. There were a few tears shed but at one point we both agreed that our story needed to be written in a book someday. Well family, friends and those I hope to someday meet, in some ways that day has arrived, just not fully. Let me explain.

I have been working since February quite consistently on my first book and it’s called…The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants. I have spent hours reliving this emotional and many times painful journey. I have experienced the same emotions over failed pregnancy tests that I had years ago, etc. (It’s crazy to realise just how much your body stores your memories and emotions!) Needless to say the process has been intense and exhausting, yet very therapeutic and healing. Plus, it wouldn’t be happening at such an intense rate if it wasn’t for my amazing husband, this unique season we find ourselves in and the constant help of my friend Hilary!

This first book is about our struggle over 9 years with infertility that eventually led to having a family. The book is a handbook/guidebook of sorts for those experiencing infertility on a personal level as well as for those who know someone going through infertility. In the book I share my personal experiences of treatment, the emotional roller coaster of infertility/fertility treatment and also give what I consider to be some helpful and practical advice on surviving along the way. I also have stories of other people who have struggled as well as the impact infertility has on your relationships. In many ways it’s a journal of sorts that I am giving people permission to go through and read. It feels a lot like the dream where you are walking down the hall with no clothes on and everyone is staring at you naked, yep, that one, the really unnerving one.

This book is aimed at a wide audience of people because I know infertility touches so many lives whether it be your life, your wife, daughter or friend, we all know someone who has been affected by infertility. My desire is to allow my own vulnerability and honesty to help someone else along the way. Am I terrified? Yes!!! But I think that’s part of what makes it worthwhile, it scares me! The reason this is hopefully only my first book is that I would like to write a second book chronicling the faith journey I went on in more detail. It will be a very different book with a different audience yet I feel both books are valid and important enough to distinguish between and write.

I am planning on publishing the book myself in the coming weeks while also sending it to publishing companies. Once I can get the final edit done and figure out all of the publishing lingo I will be flying! So watch this space!!! I will be putting any book updates here on my blog, on facebook, Instagram and Twitter.

(For those interested, I am sharing a bit about the book and my journey at Causeway Coast Vineyard Women’s Breakfast Club on the 24th June, 2016. If you would like to come reserve your space by clicking the link!)