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Clinical Depression. It has a lot of fancy definitions but in my case it is simply a genetic flaw that has been passed down through generations of women on my mom’s side. It simply means I am missing a chemical that helps me to be happy. Even though EVERY THING in my life is wonderful, my husband, my home, my fur-babies, my business, some days I can’t find ONE thing to be happy about. Even though I KNOW I should be happy, I just can’t.

My depression started rearing its ugly head in 2002, when I entered high school. Doctors told me I was just going through a rough patch, most teenagers do, and I would be fine. They didn’t give me anything. I wasn’t fine.

The suicidal thoughts started not long after this. I used to walk home from school or the bus stop and the thought would come that if I stepped off the curb just a second too early, it could all be over. There were other plans but that was the most recurring. I had that thought every time I walked somewhere. I finally told someone and got a therapist.

I was doing well while I saw my therapist. I loved her. She made everything make sense. She gave me coping techniques. She didn’t want to see me on medication because she believed I could control this on my own and I was.

But then in 2006 my family made a major move, across the country and I had to leave my therapist. I was ripped from everything and everyone I knew. Now most people could cope with this, they could make new friends and be fine (my brothers were). I was not. My depression became worse than ever. Oh, I would go to work and college but my heart wasn’t in it. I would pray everyday that God would take me and I wouldn’t wake up the next day. I didn’t like the therapist I was seeing. He didn’t care as much as the other one. He didn’t give me coping techniques. Nope, medication. Sometimes they would work for a while but more often than not they didn’t work at all.

Years passed. I was living physically but mentally and emotionally I didn’t care about life at all. I knew, however, that suicide was not an option for me. I had seen first hand what suicide had done within my extended family and I vowed to never put any of my family through that again. So I was just going through the motions of life.

2009. 7 years of living with this depression beating me EVERY SINGLE DAY. I was living on my own at this point and remember standing in my bathroom. It was morning and I was about to take my anti-depressants. The fourth prescription in 3 years. I looked at myself in the mirror and KNEW I couldn’t keep going on like this. So I threw the pills in the trash. I KNEW I had to beat this on my own.

Every day was (and is) hard. Some days I can’t find one thing to be happy about. Even though I have a wonderful husband, our own business, adorable fur-babies, beautiful house, some days I can’t find a single reason to be happy. That’s my clinical depression rearing it’s ugly head. It’s hard but I know those days will pass. Those days come fewer and fewer now. Yes, they still come but when they do I let them happen and just remind myself over and over again that today will pass and tomorrow I will be able to be happy again.

I don’t know why my depression is clinical. I don’t know why God made me this way although sometimes I often believe it is because I am strong enough. Strong enough to make it without medication or a therapist. Strong enough to realize that my depression will come and then it will pass until the next time. Strong enough to realize that this will always be a part of me. And strong enough to realize that it DOES NOT DEFINE ME.

I am not Nikki, diagnosed with clinical depression. I am Nikki, wife, mom to three fur-babies, sister, daughter, grand-daughter, niece, business owner and MOST IMPORTANTLY, I am strong.



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1 in 8

1 in 8. Imagine being told you had a 1 in 8 chance of winning something, seems pretty slim right?

1 in 8. 1 in 8 couples are diagnosed with infertility. When put like that it seems SO high.

1 in 8. My plans for my life didn’t include being the 1 in 8. Infertility was the farthest thing from my mind. In my world, it didn’t even exist. I didn’t even know anyone who was dealing with infertility. (Or if they were I never knew).

1 in 8. 1 in 8. 1 in 8. It’s like a beat that beats in my head over and over again. Only 1 in 8 are diagnosed with infertility. How did it become me?

August 2010. This August will be 6 years since we started trying to have our family. Sometimes I can’t even believe it’s been that long. The first year really flew by. Doctors tell you not to start worrying until it’s been a year.

January 2012. We finally decide to talk to a fertility specialist. Scared. Scared doesn’t even begin to cover how scared I was. Scared x 100 is probably more accurate. No one wants to be told they can’t have kids.

January 2012-April 2013. Fertility Treatments. Bad side effects. No pregnancy. No pregnancy. No pregnancy. Going crazy. Bad days.

May 2013. Made the decision to press pause on fertility treatments. Not only are they hard on your body but they are so so hard mentally and emotionally. For my health and sanity I HAD  to stop. I felt like a failure EVERY TIME they failed. I felt like God was punishing me. What had I done that was SO BAD He wouldn’t give me a child? What was wrong with my life? These thoughts haunted me DAY AND NIGHT. I couldn’t function. I’m sure I wasn’t a good wife during those times. Thinking back I can’t even think of very many times during those days that I even got out of bed, let alone changed out of pajamas. God Bless my amazing husband for sticking with me. They were hard times.

Finally, one day I fell to my knees. I prayed and I prayed and I prayed. But for once, I didn’t pray for a baby. I prayed not to know God’s will but to have the strength to follow it. I prayed to know that God was leading my life and for me to have the peace to simply let that be. I still pray for that everyday. I have been so blessed in my life and know that God’s hand is in my life everyday. I still do not understand. I don’t know why I am the 1 in 8. I simply know that I am.

I am the 1 in 8. And that is okay. I have hope that one day I will be blessed with a child but even if I’m not, I know I’ll be okay. I know that God (and my husband) will be there no matter what.

I am the 1 in 8. And I am striving to be an open book. I am ready and willing to talk about my experiences in the hope that it will help someone else out of the dark tunnel that is infertility and infertility treatments.

#startasking #starttalking # infertility



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1st Post


I guess my very first post on my actual website should be about me!! As you’ve probably read in my about me, I’m 27 and I live/work in Boulder! I have a wonderfully supportive husband who I’ve been married to almost SIX years!! (Time really does fly by!)


We have three adorable fur-babies:

Zoey, our basset hound:


Tron, our Alaskan Malamute:


And Chewbacca (called Chewey), our 9 month old baby, a Chocolate Havanese:


We mostly spend our time working (running a business is NO JOKE!) and taking care of our fur-babies.

This blog will talk a little bit about everything. My husband and I deal with infertility issues and I have gained over 30lbs from failed fertility treatments, which I am still trying to lose! I deal with clinical depression and most recently, in October, was diagnosed with acid reflux which means I had to give up some of my favorite foods but I’m learning to deal! I also LOVE anything crafty! I’ve tried pretty much every craft (even though most of them failed!) I love to sew, am working on a t-shirt quilt right now, and will pretty much try anything with my Silhouette!

I’m new to this whole WordPress thing so any tips are greatly appreciated!

Welcome to my little corner!