tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59333089391539528112024-03-13T07:00:10.327-04:00LOUISE CAZLEYLouise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.comBlogger140125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-10409869885946489262022-11-02T21:02:00.001-04:002022-11-02T21:03:12.348-04:00<p><span class="x_x_ContentPasted3" color="inherit" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; display: inline; font: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixafNIyItfwJwMo64t9Kmsq-ILlKPBjGCsmMP8_onyvgM0OSTpsXfmQ5okymbkU92bec09DYfRHTTzG-kXwwEkxX3xtkyiAHJ2Me-R345nsDPiXyLXe426jqpaN6yXKzA3HPKnw6Je3uKm5Bv55LYkLNS6X6tPwE8v6zFs3oyL9fdVA3wQ6xiZEZ9IkQ/s1080/_Post%20for%20Instagram%20Cafeteria%20Pink%20Feminine%20Giveaway%20(1).png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixafNIyItfwJwMo64t9Kmsq-ILlKPBjGCsmMP8_onyvgM0OSTpsXfmQ5okymbkU92bec09DYfRHTTzG-kXwwEkxX3xtkyiAHJ2Me-R345nsDPiXyLXe426jqpaN6yXKzA3HPKnw6Je3uKm5Bv55LYkLNS6X6tPwE8v6zFs3oyL9fdVA3wQ6xiZEZ9IkQ/s320/_Post%20for%20Instagram%20Cafeteria%20Pink%20Feminine%20Giveaway%20(1).png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>There are many times when I move too fast when I'm cooking. I sometimes take the fact that I can cook for granted and instead of paying attention to the instructions of a recipe, I'll sometimes quickly skim over the directions thinking, 'Got it, I know what to do...'<div><br /></div><div>Once while preparing the batter for a cheesecake, I did just that not realizing until I got to a certain paragraph that I was supposed to separate certain ingredients instead of mixing them all together. I was too far along with the recipe to make any corrections so I just breathed a bad word to myself and continued on with the rest of the steps. Although I made what I thought was a terrible mistake, that cheesecake turned out to be the best one I'd ever made! A failure and a huge success all in one!<br /><br />If we're receptive, our failures can lead us to success. Even if we just simply learn not to make a certain mistake again. And sometimes what we might think of as a failure can open the door to an even bigger reward!<p></p></div>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-6282664270633079522022-10-11T23:16:00.001-04:002022-10-11T23:16:40.044-04:00It's Spooky Book Season!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwm-t9Vvik-nE8TU2c7S2BV3S0LNyaXpC1sQTyXd1sH7JqnFHGmR5DnBeINUCasYqjrK4L-oUu52e_84Gb9E37QTUlKjUKE8-AzogOlRozwJc3-r2KoGNHWjaONYxuxdQqKhRexxOJ-Nm4d4sLwUJcEjrFPNlyGzcOXxRuvWeg_4R86na0f7TXZMM8Lg/s1080/Peach%20Simple%20Elegant%20Student%20Internship%20Product%20Marketing%20Manager%20Digital%20Video%20Resume%20Instagram%20Post%20(1).png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwm-t9Vvik-nE8TU2c7S2BV3S0LNyaXpC1sQTyXd1sH7JqnFHGmR5DnBeINUCasYqjrK4L-oUu52e_84Gb9E37QTUlKjUKE8-AzogOlRozwJc3-r2KoGNHWjaONYxuxdQqKhRexxOJ-Nm4d4sLwUJcEjrFPNlyGzcOXxRuvWeg_4R86na0f7TXZMM8Lg/s320/Peach%20Simple%20Elegant%20Student%20Internship%20Product%20Marketing%20Manager%20Digital%20Video%20Resume%20Instagram%20Post%20(1).png" width="320" /></a></div><br />What a lovely quote!<br /><br />I am a scaredy cat, but I absolutely love a creepy story whether it's in the form of a movie, a television series or a book. I steer clear of anything that has to do with possessions or exorcisms. I don't want to end up inviting any spirits into my house or into myself; I'm crazy enough as it is.<br /><br />When I began reading Help for the Haunted I was drawn to it because it sounded like an interesting psychological thriller and psychological thrillers are my favorite genre of book to read! <br /><br />Help for the Haunted turned out to have spooky elements, which I wasn’t expecting. Each page became spookier and scarier as I continued reading. It would have been a good idea to stop reading the book altogether, because I was getting to the point where I didn’t want to turn the lights off when I went to bed. But the story was so good I couldn’t put it down! I just had to find out the truth of the situation. In the end, an unexpected twist left me feeling silly for the tricks my imagination played on me. That’s what great writing can do!<br /><br /><br /> <p></p>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-21642991683842365772022-10-04T11:54:00.003-04:002022-10-04T11:54:44.789-04:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQEDYba18wc6P87F_-Y_PJeXCYh9MbNEZyxKQmJv8ZDYOcIPPdwEckSTsHCz_cEfqMU8eFNj7BqbLYgH5mKWR_Y9_juLcJtllvBMVl4qOo0t_rANrEL60ecgltGq-6vvVDN4_iHHy4HodbAqjKYrbsI3k3uvCzgYjt5WlTl82_7td6aOczFrjNhdpYw/s1080/Peach%20Simple%20Elegant%20Student%20Internship%20Product%20Marketing%20Manager%20Digital%20Video%20Resume%20Instagram%20Post%20(1).png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQEDYba18wc6P87F_-Y_PJeXCYh9MbNEZyxKQmJv8ZDYOcIPPdwEckSTsHCz_cEfqMU8eFNj7BqbLYgH5mKWR_Y9_juLcJtllvBMVl4qOo0t_rANrEL60ecgltGq-6vvVDN4_iHHy4HodbAqjKYrbsI3k3uvCzgYjt5WlTl82_7td6aOczFrjNhdpYw/s320/Peach%20Simple%20Elegant%20Student%20Internship%20Product%20Marketing%20Manager%20Digital%20Video%20Resume%20Instagram%20Post%20(1).png" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">I absolutely love this quote! Books can be nostalgic. Like smells and like songs, they have the power to swiftly transport us backwards to a memory so vivid, it can be as if we are physically standing in a scene of our previous life. There are so many special books that remind me of the various phases and directions my life has taken.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">One of the things I loved about Eight Perfect Murders (besides the awesome <a href="https://www.tbretc.com/etc/2020/2/23/list-of-all-of-the-books-mentioned-in-eight-perfect-murders-by-peter-swanson" target="_blank">list of books</a>), was that the main character worked in a bookstore; And as a cat lover, I truly appreciated that, Nero, the cat had a huge presence throughout the story. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">If my future retirement doesn't go as planned and bookstores still exist by the time I am a senior (and I truly hope they do), working in a bookstore will be a senior career venture of mine. To be honest, I almost submitted an application to the New York Public Library a few months ago. The only thing that stopped me was that a job offer came along that took me in a different direction. Apparently, my subconscious is already trying to jump start my senior retirement career. </div><p><br /> </p>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-35144852980390820072022-09-20T22:14:00.000-04:002022-09-20T22:14:00.990-04:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNWOeDAsU44-AabnN0lEbdWZOjeGXS0QIPMgPfZMP54EcyYyco2Vm3YAKy7jpIOS4AYqjXfPOrdWd65gHM09PSO8aHXJ4PVLtUVbmqq7pctn6ORoTJksWoNhpyp0WqiNPH2pxQfFDC6UjSoqzPdgpAlRZDSCQO5B8BVSkftQj1TcRNyZ718E1Nu3v3mQ/s1080/Bisque%20and%20White%20Traditional%20Life%20Quote%20Instagram%20Post.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNWOeDAsU44-AabnN0lEbdWZOjeGXS0QIPMgPfZMP54EcyYyco2Vm3YAKy7jpIOS4AYqjXfPOrdWd65gHM09PSO8aHXJ4PVLtUVbmqq7pctn6ORoTJksWoNhpyp0WqiNPH2pxQfFDC6UjSoqzPdgpAlRZDSCQO5B8BVSkftQj1TcRNyZ718E1Nu3v3mQ/s320/Bisque%20and%20White%20Traditional%20Life%20Quote%20Instagram%20Post.png" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Verses in the Bible are amazing in the different ways they can relate to us and give us clarity at particular points in our lives. One scripture remains the same yesterday, today and forever, but the messages we receive from them can always be different depending on the challenges we are facing in the individual phases of our lives.</div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;">When juggling various challenges there is nothing more I would like to do than to take the matter into my own hands. The reality is that by the time a challenging situation has landed in my lap it is already out of my control.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Being still can be extremely difficult, but in my experience, letting go and letting God; allowing things to play themselves out delivers a way more rewarding outcome than if I would have meddled in areas of my life where my meddling fingers didn’t belong.</div><p></p><p> </p></div>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-20754589092331761972022-09-08T22:17:00.003-04:002022-09-20T22:47:50.925-04:00The Stranger's Project<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUCxF-1iSaS5-IOdY4clwruufS8j9pOETaQt92IrZVX1Za2G3yRDUj-zgnLemmyaO_4arER2qAUmyGiNaVIc82E4m2YEqFxktTGq60YCWCCPWB5F3wahfoTTAEDX8gs4LM81cfYKOeZ1Kdxq7APul-Ill4YH66fbMG1x1-rDidaFQYpZRpFlv0ebfPPQ/s1800/The%20Strangers%20Project.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUCxF-1iSaS5-IOdY4clwruufS8j9pOETaQt92IrZVX1Za2G3yRDUj-zgnLemmyaO_4arER2qAUmyGiNaVIc82E4m2YEqFxktTGq60YCWCCPWB5F3wahfoTTAEDX8gs4LM81cfYKOeZ1Kdxq7APul-Ill4YH66fbMG1x1-rDidaFQYpZRpFlv0ebfPPQ/s320/The%20Strangers%20Project.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I happened to stumble across this awesome exhibit called <a href="https://strangersproject.com/" target="_blank">The Stranger's Project</a>.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I totally relate to the story: "I wrote something but then I started to overthink like I do with everything." It's as if I wrote that one myself.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">What's so cool about stories is that there is always something we can gain from each other; whether it's a different perspective or clarification on life or a dilemma.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'm looking forward to stopping by again when I'm not in a rush!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuH_Wg6WPDHrHd2ooD6sjcun4URczvLYyLcvYP20i39f1a61U3E5lNaq4Lx9YWlFj5nniTpZQyOB5K8cTd74IbGQuAEPmf8Z1TooiSy-Sy1Kdz-DFXPnyuDfnfM18SJUxUJ4UeGqODHAL7tRWj_iW5l6qkxmav3PLNck0Ma66v2nv1eMa_Glihmh1fwQ/s1800/The%20Strangers%20Project2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuH_Wg6WPDHrHd2ooD6sjcun4URczvLYyLcvYP20i39f1a61U3E5lNaq4Lx9YWlFj5nniTpZQyOB5K8cTd74IbGQuAEPmf8Z1TooiSy-Sy1Kdz-DFXPnyuDfnfM18SJUxUJ4UeGqODHAL7tRWj_iW5l6qkxmav3PLNck0Ma66v2nv1eMa_Glihmh1fwQ/w256-h320/The%20Strangers%20Project2.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT5poxUFoDdeol36mnKTjxcY0NldmAOnvzQlU0kwo8JbCFax3coTjjdatmrfa7V1K-cAJv2VqngcOoyS6QX8rAZBjLxuqMHPr5Tmpqf2Q6x6eGr1Iv-X5-ZWn2hNiBbF2aM-p3Hy8h4Vy9GzuhBcqz0eUhwckcRiQTUBTqRagaI_zTkktDl-9LUD3MVQ/s1800/The%20Strangers%20Project3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT5poxUFoDdeol36mnKTjxcY0NldmAOnvzQlU0kwo8JbCFax3coTjjdatmrfa7V1K-cAJv2VqngcOoyS6QX8rAZBjLxuqMHPr5Tmpqf2Q6x6eGr1Iv-X5-ZWn2hNiBbF2aM-p3Hy8h4Vy9GzuhBcqz0eUhwckcRiQTUBTqRagaI_zTkktDl-9LUD3MVQ/s320/The%20Strangers%20Project3.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIuKmn8V34oAA_mWcTwdHXHVfUdm0-YhbT50L-ubgJ6dkKvzGs-zrrpclLtnI9EM_VDwOI_ZHaZoNVfb4bbMuOCtGU5K7byzGXVRR07RSO9zbMhtzdrqtY6YYmhxyOGuhcqpPksyH91y1GeJcKBA3Fpck42tGnqWb5PaO99rWg8ohd7POmKMwDbnpH3A/s1800/The%20Strangers%20Project4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIuKmn8V34oAA_mWcTwdHXHVfUdm0-YhbT50L-ubgJ6dkKvzGs-zrrpclLtnI9EM_VDwOI_ZHaZoNVfb4bbMuOCtGU5K7byzGXVRR07RSO9zbMhtzdrqtY6YYmhxyOGuhcqpPksyH91y1GeJcKBA3Fpck42tGnqWb5PaO99rWg8ohd7POmKMwDbnpH3A/s320/The%20Strangers%20Project4.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhftvf6fB-Pxa00ARZ0ie73TsVBrhCLpXgZKL3vVkT3t45pov9G27ilLAOHWWhp_dBMbRgFJ6jqdRC9ciWqmsBJHUH4uSBU-63G9nhj0bGgFMDFVcPdNGWKqFe8g6ApmNg5Ljm4jToJqB8dBLTbcISLdpCZHd0iisgsCvyvRup0Q6G4LGDZ_T5XI1toRA/s1800/The%20Strangers%20Project5.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhftvf6fB-Pxa00ARZ0ie73TsVBrhCLpXgZKL3vVkT3t45pov9G27ilLAOHWWhp_dBMbRgFJ6jqdRC9ciWqmsBJHUH4uSBU-63G9nhj0bGgFMDFVcPdNGWKqFe8g6ApmNg5Ljm4jToJqB8dBLTbcISLdpCZHd0iisgsCvyvRup0Q6G4LGDZ_T5XI1toRA/s320/The%20Strangers%20Project5.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-55254505142516052032022-09-07T22:06:00.000-04:002022-09-20T22:06:51.639-04:00<p></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvBORTicVLj-TLAJcPMr5qOOvDp2nD0M9xYMF__IXpaVuMAlqf_V9f_MRwncT3bVtHuMqlByyJmYvCC1ZV6_nPg-gTxhdpx54PINyyGc-cZyfgbK6Xw38VCvPR_cuqCneAAwTgJmuFK6gbUVFhMOA_YyFTlV-ALpNij7OPWr7LcVHN9B9U8MkNimknQ/s1080/Colorful%20Illustrated%20International%20Tea%20Day%20Instagram%20Post%20(1).png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvBORTicVLj-TLAJcPMr5qOOvDp2nD0M9xYMF__IXpaVuMAlqf_V9f_MRwncT3bVtHuMqlByyJmYvCC1ZV6_nPg-gTxhdpx54PINyyGc-cZyfgbK6Xw38VCvPR_cuqCneAAwTgJmuFK6gbUVFhMOA_YyFTlV-ALpNij7OPWr7LcVHN9B9U8MkNimknQ/s320/Colorful%20Illustrated%20International%20Tea%20Day%20Instagram%20Post%20(1).png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have a friend whose son was born the year my baby was due, about a month after my due date; and each year, his birthday reminds me of how old my child would have been.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When a miscarriage takes place, we women often blame ourselves. I am my own biggest and worst critic. I've combed over every single thing I did back then and plague myself with guilt about what I could have done differently.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I confided in a friend that the timing of my pregnancy wasn't right and that maybe if I had just waited until the right time, things might have turned out differently. She reminded me that everything in this life is already preordained. Things happen the way they are supposed to happen and when they are supposed to happen. There are no mistakes and everything happens for a reason.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">What belongs to me shall come to me - I just have to trust the process and I know, without a doubt, that my process is not in vain.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">May this [Yogi Tea] message encourage you however it relates to your individual life journey!</div>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-91210286521142026432022-08-27T21:57:00.003-04:002022-09-20T22:07:26.348-04:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo7geR0_LL3rnraWkPE7JFXiNXjz_QflaxopegyNG1wBGO7J0_oZH7ZQBb13t_ap0Us-Tyftcnd-w0KSyzco7ag1rZiAVb4KJL6exdEtJdrGQTWVZ0wcaYW2RYZY4cDbwdD0FG0Tk_V-A_5hHcSxXX7qZbqj9qh4xX9FeTMrNfd06VOTkUyND6mwtRZg/s1080/The%20Handmaid's%20Tale%20-%20LC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo7geR0_LL3rnraWkPE7JFXiNXjz_QflaxopegyNG1wBGO7J0_oZH7ZQBb13t_ap0Us-Tyftcnd-w0KSyzco7ag1rZiAVb4KJL6exdEtJdrGQTWVZ0wcaYW2RYZY4cDbwdD0FG0Tk_V-A_5hHcSxXX7qZbqj9qh4xX9FeTMrNfd06VOTkUyND6mwtRZg/s320/The%20Handmaid's%20Tale%20-%20LC.jpg" width="320" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;">When I read this, I imagined myself in the Handmaid’s shoes. All of her freedoms had been stripped and she deeply craved any glimmer of normalcy. It made me think of some of the ridiculous arguments that I have with my husband. There are always crumbs scattered all over our kitchen counter after he makes one of his sandwiches and, no matter how many times I point it out, I still find sprinkles of coffee grains on the floor around the garbage can. I imagined how I would feel if he was removed from me and I was never able to nag him ever again. In the sentiment of LeAnn Rimes, I wouldn’t be able to breathe without him. I lived alone for a very, very long time, so although those little things about my husband might be annoying, it is also a huge privilege for me to find a mess that someone else made because it means that I’m no longer living this life on my own.</div></div><p></p>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-9585845183453994992022-08-25T21:51:00.003-04:002022-09-20T22:08:06.747-04:00<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW6ns3v0pqZN8x_zuXP-AB87i-5iYVLdSAxk2K3_beFPvC7Jv2T4LQfxM5yCoo0XHCaj8VUS4T-p85FUkoszCdLe-BmJ2S3q7aYv98Ts80S-jZ23byZ6gxk5hsrHDG6GS4sSTZp693Z8NZPV2DRnnx0w5jkpLoUyB0FRvsHz1O6Y9cYKAjobX6HzjDzQ/s1080/Colorful%20Illustrated%20International%20Tea%20Day%20Instagram%20Post.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW6ns3v0pqZN8x_zuXP-AB87i-5iYVLdSAxk2K3_beFPvC7Jv2T4LQfxM5yCoo0XHCaj8VUS4T-p85FUkoszCdLe-BmJ2S3q7aYv98Ts80S-jZ23byZ6gxk5hsrHDG6GS4sSTZp693Z8NZPV2DRnnx0w5jkpLoUyB0FRvsHz1O6Y9cYKAjobX6HzjDzQ/s320/Colorful%20Illustrated%20International%20Tea%20Day%20Instagram%20Post.png" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">I've broken just about everything in me in my continuous quest to becoming a mom. When I began my journey to motherhood, I had a beautiful idea of how things would progress. My experience is absolutely nothing like what I pictured. This teatime quote was like a whisper of encouragement. My baby journey may not be what I envisioned, but there are various avenues that will eventually lead me to my ultimate goal! I hope to have an incredible testimony to share in the end!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">May this [Yogi Tea] message encourage you however it relates in your own individual life journey!</div>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-41057071349294681222022-08-17T20:10:00.004-04:002022-09-20T22:07:18.494-04:00<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhka97Dsqcy0GdGeUIvUaww8ajxTvyco7Bc-1Xahc_fXaL6knl7QTxIvjLXJxLcigO2cOlvdvvKd91SBEfBkC0t-BEK7KzA6wGy7Egq80tpmCEZwlB95nTRxVR9JTO2KPC3sRgvYc5FiIx-QxARdHNai2dnKz2_FeLQ6_chT3LnzJFmz5OYwPiZDxWcVA/s1080/The%20Testaments%20-%20LC.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhka97Dsqcy0GdGeUIvUaww8ajxTvyco7Bc-1Xahc_fXaL6knl7QTxIvjLXJxLcigO2cOlvdvvKd91SBEfBkC0t-BEK7KzA6wGy7Egq80tpmCEZwlB95nTRxVR9JTO2KPC3sRgvYc5FiIx-QxARdHNai2dnKz2_FeLQ6_chT3LnzJFmz5OYwPiZDxWcVA/s320/The%20Testaments%20-%20LC.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">It’s never pleasant when trust is broken. When you realize what you thought was, isn’t. No matter if the trust breaking incident was big or small, it changes how you view your world; and each time you experience mistrust it chips away at your level of innocence. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">One of my struggles with experiencing mistrust is trying not to allow the actions of others to change who I am or to change how I trust and allow new people into my life. I'm still learning how to leave time for trust to develop and I'm trying to open myself up to the idea that trust can be rebuilt.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><p></p>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-47189338300700087172022-07-31T13:24:00.237-04:002022-07-31T22:43:43.536-04:00How Have you Surprised Yourself? <div style="text-align: justify;">Friendship has always been extremely important to me so I was really surprised when I began removing myself from unhealthy friendships. I value routines, consistency and I can be loyal to a fault. Once I'm committed to and invested in something it's unnatural for me to disengage, regardless of whether what I've committed myself to is good for me or not.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Because I was brought up in a toxic environment, I had an extremely high tolerance for dealing with toxic personalities. Instead of protecting myself and limiting my interactions with these personalities, I would justify and rationalize irrational behaviors. At times the friendships I was involved with could become infuriating, but I would always make myself available to accept more of the dysfunction. I was so used to dealing with high conflict personalities that I honestly didn't realize removing myself from these friendships was even an option. In the environment I grew up in, I wasn't allowed to have respect or create boundaries so I didn't know how to demand and enforce them.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A few years ago I read a book called The Five Types Of People Who Can Ruin Your Life, by Bill Eddy and it blew my mind! As the saying goes, knowledge is power and had I read this book in my twenties I could have saved myself a lot of grief. A close friend of mine, who was a witness to my unhealthy friendships, repeatedly tried to educate me on the effects that certain personality disorders could have on my overall well being. Unfortunately, her warnings never fully sunk in. When someone treated me in a way I didn't deserve I would make excuses and allowances for the bad behavior. This would only cause people to continue with subtle forms of disrespect that, when challenged, would easily be explained away in a gaslit manner.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I often blame and question myself because I teach people how to treat me. I'm embarrassed when I think about how much negative behavior I allowed myself to entertain. But I also have to forgive myself because the person who was supposed to teach me how I should be treated didn't treat me so well at the time. Toxicity was all I knew, and although it was exhausting to deal with, I became an expert at enduring toxic behaviors.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I've gotten a lot better at protecting myself, but old habits do die hard. I guess I could say I'm still in recovery because it's not always easy to identify when someone isn't good for me until I'm already knee deep. One thing I've worked out is that I seem to be a huge magnet for narcissists. Depending on the type of narcissist I've attracted, it can be difficult to initially recognize their traits. But now I know, and as G.I. Joe says, "Knowing is half the battle."</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I was fortunate enough to cross paths with a beautiful human who showed me what I deserved out of friendship. My relationship with her woke me up to the fact that I didn't need to involve myself with anything less. Ever! The key factors in the foundation of our friendship are maturity and respect which were missing in the friendships of my youth. Friendship really shouldn't be so complicated. It shouldn't be draining or exhausting, it should be fun and uplifting. Life is hard enough so it's a true blessing when you find a friend who enlightens your life.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">How have you surprised yourself?</div>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-84208185778318767822022-06-27T17:01:00.005-04:002023-07-12T11:57:01.329-04:00The Children's Boutique<div style="text-align: justify;">My struggle with infertility has unearthed all sorts of unexpected traumatic feelings that were laying dormant inside me. At times it gets difficult to keep all of my fancy new emotions contained as they often take hold of me when I least expect them to erupt. </div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;">There is a beautiful children's boutique shop in my neighborhood that I've had to avoid. The boutique is absolutely lovely, but when I walk past it I feel like the ground is being pulled out from under me and as if I'm falling backward in slow motion. The window display is so sweet and nostalgic of my early childhood, that I sometimes can't help but stop and gaze in. I can't stay long, though, because I start feeling like someone is pressing down on my windpipe.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I attempted to avoid the boutique by not looking in when I walked past. I'd close one eye so I couldn't see the shop in my peripheral vision, quicken my pace and hold my breath until I'd cleared the boutique. Playing games with myself kind of added a bit of internal amusement to my sad situation. The boutique is decorated exactly like the nursery I envisioned for my baby, so sometimes it's difficult <i><b>not</b></i> to look in and fantasize. But as I stand there staring into the window like a weirdo, my reality always creeps in to destroy my beautiful fantasy and I have to turn and swiftly walk away.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I decided that it would just be best if I walked on the other side of the street so that I could avoid the boutique completely; but I was on the phone as I approached the shop a few weeks ago, so I was distracted. I realized too late that I was walking on the same side of the street as the boutique and had no choice but to walk past it. Although my breaths became short as I neared it, I decided that maybe it would help me to get over my overwhelming feelings if I just went in. </div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">I stood outside for a bit with my heart hammering in my chest. Mentally I was weighing whether it was really a good idea for me to go in. The door was propped open so I had a good view of the bulletin board hanging at the entrance. It was brimming with an array of beautiful cards and photos of babies that had been sent in by their families. I know what the shop conveys to me; the sweet, pure excitement and joy that comes with adding a new baby to your family. From the abundant display on the bulletin board, it's apparent that this shop is special to people and that it has been there for the new additions to many families over the years. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I finally forced myself to step over the threshold before I changed my mind, but once I was inside, I wondered if I'd made a mistake. I could feel a heaviness in my chest and the invisible thumbs pressing down on my windpipe. As I took in the racks of tiny clothing, the shelves of books and wicker baskets filled with toys, my mind began to spin a bit.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The owner, who was behind the counter, looked up and greeted me; and when I opened my mouth to respond, I instantly burst into tears. She immediately came out from behind the counter and held me in a long, tight embrace. "It's okay." She whispered. "It's okay." I apologized for becoming emotional and she waved me off saying, "Don't apologize, lots of people cry in here." Instead of her being cautious of this strange woman walking into her shop and bursting into tears, she treated me with such warmth and kindness. Without my fully speaking it she just understood my internal struggle. </div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">She pulled out one of the tiny toddler sized chairs set up in the middle of the shop and made me take a seat at the tiny table. I really just wanted to leave so that I could escape my feelings. I felt shaky and exposed and I wanted to run out of the shop so that I could breathe again. The shop owner pulled out a tiny chair for herself and sat down with me. She asked me what my name was and introduced herself as Ariana. She told me a story about a recent customer who had also become emotional in her shop. She told me about her life. She asked me about mine. She just sat and talked with me for about twenty minutes until I decided I'd taken up enough of her time. I felt like if I needed to sit there with her a bit longer she would have let me. A few customers came in to browse while Ariana was sitting with me and she knew every one of them. It's no wonder that the bulletin board is filled with love. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Before I left, she made me promise that I would stop walking on the other side of the street, but after the way my body responded once I'd stepped into her shop, I don't think that I can promise her that just yet.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Shortly after I left the shop, I came across a bright, white feather lying on the pavement. I don't really believe in things like this, but the feather jolted me as if I was hit by a dart. When I got home, I Googled the spiritual meaning of a white feather and this is what I found:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><b><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>White feathers often show up in your life after a period of disappointment or grief, as a way to provide encouragement and let you know that the universal flow of energy is working in your favor. Many people report feeling the presence of Angels when they find white feathers, and that may be a way that your angels are communicating with you.</b></div></b><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">How interesting! Ariana definitely fulfilled her purpose as an angel of comfort, that day.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I don't know if I'll ever be fully healed from everything I've experienced over the past decade, but I know without a doubt that everything happens for a reason. My experience with infertility is not in vain and hopefully one day I can use my pain to offer someone else comfort and to help them make sense of their own struggle.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Although physically, I feel like giving up, mentally I'm keeping the faith that one day I will walk into that shop, not to have another panic attack, but to purchase something for my baby; and one day he or she will have their photo displayed on that bulletin board!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><i><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Hebrews 11:1 - Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.</i></div></i></div>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-79495413281201201892022-05-20T12:01:00.005-04:002022-06-27T20:16:45.589-04:00Books Featuring Dysfunctional Mothers<div style="text-align: justify;">When you think of what the word 'mother' means to you, some of the words that might spring to mind are: comfort, support, peace, safety and love. The truth is that not all of us were blessed with traditional mothering. Some of us were unfortunate in experiencing a dysfunctional, abusive, neglectful, toxic, or narcissistic mother.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">In my 20's I went through a period where I read a heap of books that featured dysfunctional family relationships. Reading about unusual family dynamics helped me to make sense of my own experiences, they helped me to heal and, let's be real, dysfunctional families are extremely fascinating.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In continuing to recognize mothers in May, I'm sharing a few of my favorite reads featuring mothers who had quite peculiar methods to their mothering.</div><div dir="ltr" style="border: 0px; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="x_elementToProof elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div><div class="x_elementToProof elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div><div class="x_elementToProof elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: inherit; font-variant-numeric: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">THE FLOWERS IN THE ATTIC SERIES, BY V.C. ANDREWS</span></div><div class="x_elementToProof elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div><div class="x_elementToProof elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOTLx0kij6QoW36O1BYvI_M3rmowaS97iGap1KAfAf3kZtA55X22QknjYqLhXVUY4oPzthHE9WnoGyFelAtkUzSC2vbh1yxqyJWlLB6y3bjNZXBMYe_upZCcV0LM6CN7a8ZzkL-yib8-YRvReM8pkQIkSAL84-ACsdE8XF5zVY-Imgt_K9Yfj52EOP1g/s406/Flowers%20in%20the%20Attic.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="406" data-original-width="261" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOTLx0kij6QoW36O1BYvI_M3rmowaS97iGap1KAfAf3kZtA55X22QknjYqLhXVUY4oPzthHE9WnoGyFelAtkUzSC2vbh1yxqyJWlLB6y3bjNZXBMYe_upZCcV0LM6CN7a8ZzkL-yib8-YRvReM8pkQIkSAL84-ACsdE8XF5zVY-Imgt_K9Yfj52EOP1g/s320/Flowers%20in%20the%20Attic.jpg" width="206" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">WHITE OLEANDER, BY JANET FITCH</div></div><div class="x_elementToProof elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-weight: inherit; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5KG8k8nvi8WZbjSOfNErHb3opd0dLuUnjbbBY0u6qn6gmTffWCYEfgweSacBu0-03g1LXTDwnttAPFh_-OnWnyLhIg0zlQTwf0HVZjvvF_qomkSdxRBstLdfU4BfGudxtmUjDbvrgknJsgz-bGMyUPjGn_6MO0PSKQUDqUsq8HjwJ0V-dVWZlgy9hA/s400/WHITE%20OL.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="257" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5KG8k8nvi8WZbjSOfNErHb3opd0dLuUnjbbBY0u6qn6gmTffWCYEfgweSacBu0-03g1LXTDwnttAPFh_-OnWnyLhIg0zlQTwf0HVZjvvF_qomkSdxRBstLdfU4BfGudxtmUjDbvrgknJsgz-bGMyUPjGn_6MO0PSKQUDqUsq8HjwJ0V-dVWZlgy9hA/s320/WHITE%20OL.jpg" width="206" /></a></div><div class="x_elementToProof elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><div class="x_elementToProof elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><div class="x_elementToProof elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;">PUSH, BY SAPHIRRE</div><div class="x_elementToProof elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-weight: inherit; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDCsqVatnZ2d5aiZXjdOZ-KCANkfiD5cOO2XyOByVpu89oYv_pKpKeOaMzi3UvRDqZnQs8auTfhlnzl7X7OiVWNgyrgHuupTQpuZ3d9eATbh3i_5JiQME8dloiWVkBzYyZKr1xkVzaBiRpIgpOij6Mx6IB8l5yMuW6yo1l4QLiHldIqBrgk9tQWgRN5Q/s474/Push.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="474" data-original-width="335" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDCsqVatnZ2d5aiZXjdOZ-KCANkfiD5cOO2XyOByVpu89oYv_pKpKeOaMzi3UvRDqZnQs8auTfhlnzl7X7OiVWNgyrgHuupTQpuZ3d9eATbh3i_5JiQME8dloiWVkBzYyZKr1xkVzaBiRpIgpOij6Mx6IB8l5yMuW6yo1l4QLiHldIqBrgk9tQWgRN5Q/s320/Push.jpg" width="226" /></a></div><div class="x_elementToProof elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;">LIKE WATER FOR CHOCOLATE, BY LAURA ESQUIVEL</div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-weight: inherit; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGPsXNkYQx55QE9629czuH1jiLJAHgDZ10LU0jbLG1oZG3x3sfkoWnPmFjPAVfrA0vsMmsJHnpnPP8Y3TrmPvjE6_gJRQi34GCk-EF51q2IoCdiBkgEZuXAGzB4q_7xzPECBbyLC-EUhzS_1416oCX9ui6AM7Xmxdt4fJS9FSAEJfCbssLiq76u34H-A/s499/LIKE%20WATER%20FOR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="325" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGPsXNkYQx55QE9629czuH1jiLJAHgDZ10LU0jbLG1oZG3x3sfkoWnPmFjPAVfrA0vsMmsJHnpnPP8Y3TrmPvjE6_gJRQi34GCk-EF51q2IoCdiBkgEZuXAGzB4q_7xzPECBbyLC-EUhzS_1416oCX9ui6AM7Xmxdt4fJS9FSAEJfCbssLiq76u34H-A/s320/LIKE%20WATER%20FOR.jpg" width="208" /></a></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;">A CHILD CALLED IT (SERIES), BY DAVE PELTZER</div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-weight: inherit; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGeN1gnLHGm8R9GWfBIVmBCPvdwnCVAPsZTWtJCfpxji0v0J6hybF7OrVPISP3RYQX30wVyi30HhLaB5bSvryYxSb2SR3CBJyoMeR4wGMfr8swkCZNUduUQJn4eI_jfM0FFGkcIC8E1gCAp1URw1OtgkgAykL8KClBAsor0_GwmhE49_c5GYyHFr39Og/s400/Dave%20Peltzer.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="260" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGeN1gnLHGm8R9GWfBIVmBCPvdwnCVAPsZTWtJCfpxji0v0J6hybF7OrVPISP3RYQX30wVyi30HhLaB5bSvryYxSb2SR3CBJyoMeR4wGMfr8swkCZNUduUQJn4eI_jfM0FFGkcIC8E1gCAp1URw1OtgkgAykL8KClBAsor0_GwmhE49_c5GYyHFr39Og/s320/Dave%20Peltzer.jpg" width="208" /></a></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;">I KNOW WHY THE CAGED BIRD SINGS, MAYA ANGELOU</div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-weight: inherit; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSgfoY9Hp_OKsg4Knp7ldMA-_4DGMs2RpLwW0tr05OOofuVZ-XG7-byIEM7ZBeKqh4-3ZA3lUqh9i7wHgwrf334L8REahQ-A6uSSXDQb16y2GkMYOA-gvMGT4D3TRKNTmrxVbityWdfyiIMcvSuMiwDGd6eVVlYForQsEI-OyK82uQAgnENK68y3NmQ/s475/I%20Know%20Why%20the%20Caged.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="280" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSgfoY9Hp_OKsg4Knp7ldMA-_4DGMs2RpLwW0tr05OOofuVZ-XG7-byIEM7ZBeKqh4-3ZA3lUqh9i7wHgwrf334L8REahQ-A6uSSXDQb16y2GkMYOA-gvMGT4D3TRKNTmrxVbityWdfyiIMcvSuMiwDGd6eVVlYForQsEI-OyK82uQAgnENK68y3NmQ/s320/I%20Know%20Why%20the%20Caged.jpg" width="189" /></a></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">LYING IN WAIT, BY LIZ NUGENT</span></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM72KdDemxbHUC4b_AgK7lwW7PTMv8mK81NTRPMYZj5T2DqTopJ1olMZofJKm1Lqu-SgKaBFybHfvCf3DJK4piQeipe8B0uLbTyT3hAgppL7f9pygPJMP4uj2jaOnFnahzuhPa-fKecqIYKuV4lY5zsdrR5pWIJi72-3xIUkdv-LdLiVl0lavBUt9Syg/s475/Lying%20in%20Wait.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="315" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM72KdDemxbHUC4b_AgK7lwW7PTMv8mK81NTRPMYZj5T2DqTopJ1olMZofJKm1Lqu-SgKaBFybHfvCf3DJK4piQeipe8B0uLbTyT3hAgppL7f9pygPJMP4uj2jaOnFnahzuhPa-fKecqIYKuV4lY5zsdrR5pWIJi72-3xIUkdv-LdLiVl0lavBUt9Syg/s320/Lying%20in%20Wait.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><br /><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span color="inherit" style="font-size: 12pt; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">CARRIE, BY STEPHEN KING</span></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXF1J4GRO_15fSu6h7X2QiYE-OztWOrUlxOr3Ix31hRSBE5sveOK1SnbdJUpPROEtoW7HW34OPDF799nu7DDDTcgp2WIXrnBVItr7-yYsvOK_6e6VHw9nKelBKRC77Heq8ZN5zj_Eh18bEOJ-SbOPkgjqI8knlX_3OjXSLbnFEDC9YU0tHd-VY3sWONQ/s475/Carrie.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="475" data-original-width="290" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXF1J4GRO_15fSu6h7X2QiYE-OztWOrUlxOr3Ix31hRSBE5sveOK1SnbdJUpPROEtoW7HW34OPDF799nu7DDDTcgp2WIXrnBVItr7-yYsvOK_6e6VHw9nKelBKRC77Heq8ZN5zj_Eh18bEOJ-SbOPkgjqI8knlX_3OjXSLbnFEDC9YU0tHd-VY3sWONQ/s320/Carrie.jpg" width="195" /></a></div></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span color="inherit" style="font-size: 12pt; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span color="inherit" style="font-size: 12pt; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span color="inherit" style="font-size: 12pt; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-weight: inherit;">GREY GARDENS - DOCUMENTARY FILM </span></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i>(This one isn't a book, but a documentary film and also a movie.) </i></span></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOMfVAlALejZ26hLnWdmc4hzCMfkwZFTcDCF6wqF8G8Ab8CC6vdyBSCzupvMz-2hynWhIVLoi31s1aSrjdLwMbtpDzxj1Ihq84u3uWdUH9OD16VW5a4J-cBGuJ7QXZNYnLIFzTItustP8f7SQUx_AanwFSoU74AHBMAWwWhY5v3Ht51J_8zJdvrS5vQ/s4000/GREY.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2700" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipOMfVAlALejZ26hLnWdmc4hzCMfkwZFTcDCF6wqF8G8Ab8CC6vdyBSCzupvMz-2hynWhIVLoi31s1aSrjdLwMbtpDzxj1Ihq84u3uWdUH9OD16VW5a4J-cBGuJ7QXZNYnLIFzTItustP8f7SQUx_AanwFSoU74AHBMAWwWhY5v3Ht51J_8zJdvrS5vQ/s320/GREY.jpg" width="216" /></a></div><br /><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div><div class="x_elementToProof" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: inherit; font-family: Calibri, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></div><div style="color: inherit; font-family: inherit; font-size: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; font-variant-ligatures: inherit; font-weight: inherit;"><span style="border: 0px; font-size: 12pt; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: inherit; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><br /></span></div></div></div>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-14946654041820071622022-05-06T16:57:00.003-04:002022-05-06T17:28:51.903-04:00Grabbing onto Mom No matter what's going on in the world around us, my mother has always been fearless. I don't think I've ever seen her be shaken or rattled by anything. Ever. As a person who worries and is anxious about almost everything, I wish the entire essence of her fearlessness would have been genetically passed down to me. <br /><br />On the Friday of the week when the Rodney King riots began in Los Angeles, there was a concern that riots would also erupt in New York City. As a precaution, all of the students at my Junior High School were dismissed early. As a naïve teenager who lived in my own world, I was mentally removed from a lot of the current events that were taking place. I didn't realize how serious the city was taking things until I reached Third Avenue, which is a heavily (<i>heavily</i>) trafficked shopping area in the South Bronx. Third Avenue is LOUD and consists of music, yelling, buying selling, laughing, eating, crowding, honking and everything that is consistent with noise, but when my friends and I got to Third Avenue that day, there was silence. The shutters on all of the shops were pulled down, some shops were boarded up, and there were very few souls in sight. It was quite eerie and a bit of fear began to creep in.<div><br />On Friday nights we went to church and to my mother, this Friday was no different than any other Friday. I'm sure there was a warning on the news alerting the people of New York to stay home if they didn't absolutely have to venture outdoors, so I was a little apprehensive when my mother stated that we were still going to church. <br /><br /><div>At 6pm, my mother, my two younger brothers and my sister-friend and neighbor, Cherrise, hopped on the subway and headed to the city for the 7pm Friday night church service. We got to church without incident, but while we were on the subway on our way home, the train stalled between the stations. We were stalled for quite some time and because of the heightened tensions in the city, the people in our car began exchanging worried looks and mummering to each other. As a person who absorbs worry like a sponge, a sense of panic began to ignite within me. Cherrise must have been experiencing the same sense of panic because when chaos broke out in the subway car next to ours, she and I both erupted into a tearful, full-blown panic. People were yelling, screaming and banging noisily and Cherrise and I both became unhinged with fear. I grabbed frantically onto my mother who was standing in front of where Cherrise and I were seated, whimpering and crying, "Mom! Something's happening! Mom! Something's happening! Mom!" <br /><br />Not once did my mother display any sense of the worry or concern that had spread throughout our subway car. She leaned down so that her face was close to mine and calmly and quietly said, "Calm down, Louise. Calm down. Those people are just annoyed that the train isn't moving." A few seconds later the train began to move, the chaos in the train car ceased and I released the death grip I had on my mother's arm. All of us arrived safely home. </div><div><br />There were times before we had a home phone when my mother would run downstairs to use the payphone at the end of our block or she would make a late-night run to the bodega for something she'd forgotten to pick up earlier in the day. Sometimes she would return home with crazy stories of seeing someone chasing another person and beating them with a pipe. One of my friends was visiting when my mother was telling that story and she asked, "Weren't you scared that they would see you watching them and come after you next?!" My mother nonchalantly replied, "Ah, he wasn't looking for me."<br /><br />My mother has just never been someone who is prone to panic and as an adult whose first response is panic, I need her. I need to be able to reach out and grab onto my her with my death grip so that she can settle my unsteady soul. It's a luxury to have my mother within my reach. It's a luxury to be able to call on her because even at my age, thirty years later, I still need to hear her say the words, "Louise. Calm down."</div></div><div><span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="text-align: justify;">Follow me on Facebook:</span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/CazleyLouise" style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;">http://www.facebook.com/CazleyLouise</a></div>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-56814926085749227532021-01-19T12:30:00.002-05:002022-06-27T20:17:00.543-04:00First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage, Then Comes the Fertility Challenge??<div><b><br /></b></div><b><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9Bndu2j2bBQ" width="320" youtube-src-id="9Bndu2j2bBQ"></iframe></div><br /></div><div><b><br /></b></div>FIRST COMES LOVE</b><div><b><br /></b></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FqhE3pF_YS4/YDc2VooPG8I/AAAAAAAAGtc/ucLbBKxsGAssRzZwO2wSFYF8fZ5u8-YqgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1024/cazley-029-XL.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="683" data-original-width="1024" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FqhE3pF_YS4/YDc2VooPG8I/AAAAAAAAGtc/ucLbBKxsGAssRzZwO2wSFYF8fZ5u8-YqgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/cazley-029-XL.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>THEN COMES MARRIAGE</b><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lLwGQNpTufE/YDc2YBepyeI/AAAAAAAAGtg/hy8FbqHliv4qOhZmIbJG7e8R1NLa8KztACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/galarza-176_hq.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lLwGQNpTufE/YDc2YBepyeI/AAAAAAAAGtg/hy8FbqHliv4qOhZmIbJG7e8R1NLa8KztACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/galarza-176_hq.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><b>THEN COMES, THE FERTILITY CHALLENGE??</b></div><div><b><br /></b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LrldF3-g2qA/YDc2qf8FwRI/AAAAAAAAGts/CTOVCM9PfGY4e2D4LozbfvanPPxNat2ggCLcBGAsYHQ/s1200/54031894_1611074439791551_r.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="799" data-original-width="1200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LrldF3-g2qA/YDc2qf8FwRI/AAAAAAAAGts/CTOVCM9PfGY4e2D4LozbfvanPPxNat2ggCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/54031894_1611074439791551_r.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Finding out I was pregnant was and still is one of the most amazing things to ever happen to me. I’d been there to share in the whirlwind of joy of those around me who had ventured into motherhood and now it was my turn!! I was filled with pure elation!</div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">From the moment I saw the second line appear on my pregnancy test my baby became real to me. As someone who mentally lives in the future, I began planning my future with my child. I couldn’t wait to have that fresh baby smell permeating my home. I couldn’t wait to slather my freshly bathed baby with Johnson’s and Johnson’s baby lotion. I couldn’t wait to fill a bookshelf with books that I would read to my baby year after year until they no longer needed me to read for them. I couldn’t wait to shop for maternity clothes. I couldn’t wait to create my baby registry. I couldn’t wait to celebrate at my baby shower. I couldn’t wait to make a space for my baby in my home and in my life. I couldn’t wait to meet him or her. I was just so thrilled that my family was beginning!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">My pregnancy lasted 9 weeks where it ended in an emotionally and physically painful <a href="http://www.louisecazley.com/2014/06/june-4th-2014.html" target="_blank">miscarriage</a>. I was thirty-four years old at the time. The doctor who diagnosed my miscarriage discovered that I had a large fibroid in my uterus. He stated that the fibroid may not be the reason for my miscarriage but suggested that I have it removed before I try getting pregnant again.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Because I’d gotten pregnant naturally, I never expected to have such a hard time getting pregnant when the time came for me to try again.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">After two uterine surgeries, I decided to have a consultation with a fertility clinic since I was now thirty-eight years old and wanted to get things moving along. After my consultation I went through all of my testing and evaluations. I’d been healthy my entire life so I never dreamed that I would be receiving any sort of bad news, but I was wrong. The Friday before Mother’s Day (lucky me), I received a call from the fertility clinic with my diagnosis. They discovered that both of my fallopian tubes were blocked meaning that <a href="http://www.louisecazley.com/2017/12/the-ivf-struggle-is-real.html" target="_blank">IVF</a> would be the only way that I would have a chance at getting pregnant.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Three years later, after lots of ups and downs, lots of heartbreak, four uterine surgeries, painful HSG’s, biopsies, lots and lots and lots of medication, 3 canceled and 6 failed IVF transfer cycles I am no closer to being a mother than I was when this all started.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When my infertility journey began, a friend of mine told me, “You are going to be a mother. I don’t know how to explain that you know you are going to be a mother, but you just know.” I knew exactly what she meant because there hasn’t been a day when I have thought of my future and not seen myself as being a mother. Being a mother is just ingrained in me. It just comes naturally to me so how could I not have my baby?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A few months ago, I decided to make a last attempt with a natural fertility clinic. After all of the workups and testing they confirmed what the previous fertility clinic had discovered which was that due to the uterine surgeries I’d undergone, mass amounts of scar tissue had developed which makes it near impossible for an embryo to implant. The surgeries that were meant to increase my chances of pregnancy only rendered my uterine environment inhospitable. Basically, if I do have my own biological child, I will need to borrow someone else’s uterus.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I have so many mixed feelings surrounding my diagnosis. On one hand my life is now free. My body hasn’t been mine for the past four years. My body will no longer be held prisoner by fertility regimens and restrictions. On the other hand, I am floored, I am broken, I am grieving, I am sad. I always, ALWAYS wanted to experience full-term pregnancy when the time was right. I am absolutely devastated that pregnancy will not happen for me.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Two of my fertility doctors stated that I would need a gestational carrier, but I never even considered it at the time because of the cost.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Although it makes me extremely uncomfortable to ask for help, I don’t really have a choice. The cost of surrogacy is financially out of reach for me as surrogacy can range between $100,000 - $150,000 and the copays for egg retrieval are about $11,000. We understand that the amount we are asking for is completely unrealistic, but we have to try.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Today I am forty-two so although I had positive results with my previous egg retrieval, the condition of my eggs may or may not be as healthy due to my advanced maternal age. In the case that we are not able to create healthy embryos, we would then turn to adoption which ranges between $40,000 - $50,000.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We would be beyond grateful if you could help us to achieve our dream of becoming parents.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We understand that just about everyone is going through tough times right now, so for those who cannot donate please give us your prayers. We need them. We need guidance and direction in this journey. We need strength and faith. I’m a little broken. Please pray for my mental and emotional healing. My husband has been an amazing source of emotional support, but please pray for his continued strength.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As this infertility journey is an extremely lonely one, please feel free to share my story with anyone going through the struggle in hopes that they will know that they are not alone.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for any help you can offer us.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Love Edward & Louise</div><p></p></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://www.gofundme.com/f/edward-louises-surrogacy-fund">https://www.gofundme.com/f/edward-louises-surrogacy-fund</a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-71198854435208194982020-04-10T17:01:00.003-04:002022-06-27T20:17:11.951-04:00Couch Potato Sessions - Office Space<div style="text-align: center;">
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<br /><div style="text-align: justify;">The first Christmas present that my husband gave me when we were dating was a boxed set of Office Space. It included a DVD, a mouse pad, a magnetic picture frame and the famous stapler. I could tell he was excited to give it to me and he promised me that I would appreciate the movie, but I was unenthused and I don’t think I hid my un-enthusiasm well (so ungrateful). The boxed set sat collecting dust on my bookshelf for years, until a day when I was home with nothing to do was in the mood to watch a movie. I finally pulled Office Space from the shelf and, Edward was right, I really enjoyed it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">
Lately, Office Space has been on television quite frequently and after recent unfortunate office events of my own, I now have a complete and deep appreciation for this movie. Imagine busting your buns and being overlooked for everything you do. Imagine a coworker doing half of what you do yet receiving the recognition you deserve. Imagine a colleague who didn’t know you or your work ethic being given the power to make decisions on your future within the company. You can’t see me, but there are flames coming out of my nose as I write this. If you’ve ever had your office environment become unrecognizable; if you’ve ever landed in a place in which you were certain you didn’t belong; if you’ve ever experienced undeserving behavior in your workplace this movie will stand with you in solidarity - at least for eighty-nine minutes. </div>
Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-92048221286145221632020-04-03T14:31:00.001-04:002022-06-27T20:17:21.789-04:00Couch Potato Sessions: The Invitation - Netflix<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o9vURciJbFs/XoeAEfLyJRI/AAAAAAAADms/CNoBpXEqfuseeE3_No59dvlv6hmEPT9pQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/combogamercom.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="924" data-original-width="1600" height="230" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o9vURciJbFs/XoeAEfLyJRI/AAAAAAAADms/CNoBpXEqfuseeE3_No59dvlv6hmEPT9pQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/combogamercom.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /><div style="text-align: justify;">There isn’t much that I love more than throwing a party. My dinner parties have improved over the years in both menu options and bougieness - Pinterest is my downfall. The prep and planning can be so overwhelming and stressful, especially because I like to kill myself by cooking everything from scratch, but the results are always so rewarding! The house smells amazing, the food is delicious and my favorite people are with me enjoying the fruits of my labor.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">One of my favorite authors, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/biancasloanesuspenseauthor/?__tn__=K-R&eid=ARCIqvxIfEpPy473GzMhjUuKA7aAjTALi65fWPp6wz7qRu5jo9gxCY7IKVWwZlemOyjd3pMSBgq12v2t&fref=mentions&__xts__%5B0%5D=68.ARB7I8BiTr2AKqXab3AAzQ_H9ceOQDhfXmx1My6b57KFlKyADRtmQe63AldxOMTExKoC_c2iSuCuiDCVLOVJ1KGoh0hGRB34wJ6s2wCG7dXrm-XxEItt1GwzSkBJFQLY15VtZ74AEtASA8YldOiHOyKur9FTDlYbLaillFZLmJNzYFM7TvKvQ2wQIhAdDu1mTCTvBtBjvM9GElabrJX53kf9GHTXcHIsPrc9mWBJAbUgW7cUEMxh1YI44rI-ztQOEecpe5LHzRziPrZgrwuANcI8Q5LQCiJuZmKhOkuf2AjHXA02xK3KX969Xs9Sh1Ng9MNIq1bmJbXHq8GNf7RHDmnsaQ">Bianca Sloane</a>, recommended the movie, The Invitation, so Edward and I checked it out a few weeks ago. We didn’t know what to expect since the description is short and the trailer didn’t reveal much which was great for us. The more suspenseful the better. Although I loved the ambiance of this dinner party and I loved the house where the party was hosted, this is one dinner party I wouldn’t mind losing the invitation to. It was strange, uncomfortable and disturbing at times – BUT if Logan Marshal Green will be there, I would consider making an exception. 😉</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://www.netflix.com/title/80048977?fbclid=IwAR2ZYNO-qJNZ6RBkML6QhVLKEwwESJT3btpu_I29rrnSu5HKSL40ISgI1QI">https://www.netflix.com/title/80048977</a></div>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-40867509535556194392020-03-31T15:13:00.001-04:002022-06-27T20:17:32.613-04:00Couch Potato Sessions: Friends from College - Netflix<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K-MkFrbhxkg/XoOWJPZ4a-I/AAAAAAAADl0/pycvLG1VTQEeApaX0iWG6XtnpTcouViqQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/MV5BMjMyNjgxNDc3MV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwNDUyMzQ2NjM%2540._V1_.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="993" data-original-width="729" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K-MkFrbhxkg/XoOWJPZ4a-I/AAAAAAAADl0/pycvLG1VTQEeApaX0iWG6XtnpTcouViqQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/MV5BMjMyNjgxNDc3MV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwNDUyMzQ2NjM%2540._V1_.jpg" width="292" /></a></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 6px;"><div style="text-align: justify;">My friendships have always been extremely important to me. I cherish and value them deeply and the friendships that value and cherish me deeply have lasted decades. As we get older and life takes over, you tend to connect less often. Some friendships are strong enough to survive life’s evolutions and some aren’t. Although I still have very good friendships, the crowd I used to run with has dwindled dramatically. Life is a bit lonelier because of the decline, but my life has become so precious to me that I only have room for those who can roll with me as I am. I’m going through a lot of hard things and I need friends who can free me from myself with laughter, love and a little bit of wine never hurts.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On a day when I really needed a friend I went looking for some on Netflix and I found <a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=1738646619709616&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARCZNTeVr6DeCB_AEDVIqOz1j_iBIJm067Ofh2XnMjaRZEYmJJW-ui3q9aDVpkK0BxW2ddwcUpqurLaR%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/FriendsFromCollege/?__tn__=K-R&eid=ARCZNTeVr6DeCB_AEDVIqOz1j_iBIJm067Ofh2XnMjaRZEYmJJW-ui3q9aDVpkK0BxW2ddwcUpqurLaR&fref=mentions&__xts__%5B0%5D=68.ARC5Fna_X1OyVREfZKgfq2H8JegBol_2aGk6V_F1nTF4FV9knv8oER2m1SdmsVE4uyNSQKdQD4PhKG_d4-lAUSepUg-CCuvTJA7jgLZozkm5-vaeOfZ17OH8fWc6jfxroj4W3HzdYlpluZyNYrqi5h8hHp9LeZbUe1sFli-CY3FhgouRWqK3UkKLIQ3xVOcnVz7pOiNBwFKvLRLrloLcZaqzntaJsQG5k2YdeqD_kWQEEa7vUKelpg3tl4dVG4IkVhaZGf84TCuAY8mRFoD3_sKco-zK42wBYKwox8LRKnW7EywYnGKq6usQXVx2iIFmAbKbA4u-g5AONQjI_P2hRp0IpQ" style="background-color: white; color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px;">Friends from College</a><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-size: 14px;">. The comical yet dysfunctional dynamic they have with each other elevates their bond beyond friendship and makes them family. I related so much to different characters at various phases of their lives. I especially related to Episode 4 of Season 1 - it was like watching my life (verbatim) on screen. I </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;">love that they shot in New York. It made my friendship with these folks believable as they frequented streets, restaurants and clinics I’m very familiar with. I promise I really do have real life friends.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">There are only two seasons of Friends from College, and although it doesn’t seem like they will, I really hope they shoot more seasons. I thought the series was awesome and amazing! (And I miss my friends.)</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://www.netflix.com/title/80117485"></a><a href="https://www.netflix.com/title/80117485">https://www.netflix.com/title/80117485</a></div></div>
Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-45894995401730911272020-03-23T17:02:00.001-04:002022-06-27T20:22:30.331-04:00Couch Potato Sessions: Better Call Saul - AMC<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KabdLugddos/Xnp1PfbIOvI/AAAAAAAADk8/HVI2USGfWmoOoqzmIVwf0S1FJ2INDai8gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/s-l300.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="176" data-original-width="300" height="234" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KabdLugddos/Xnp1PfbIOvI/AAAAAAAADk8/HVI2USGfWmoOoqzmIVwf0S1FJ2INDai8gCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/s-l300.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-size: 14px;">Have you ever had someone ask you a question that was phrased as a polite inquiry, but was really asked with all intentions of getting all up in your business? Or have you ever been involved in a casual conversation that you later realized was a trap set by the other party who was just waiting for the right moment to walk you into a premeditated argument? I’ve had some interesting individuals in m</span><span class="text_exposed_show" face=""helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; display: inline; font-size: 14px;">y life…</span></span></div>
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<span face=""helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px;">I’m never prepared for these situations and (after the fact) I ALWAYS think of the perfect comeback for how I should have responded. Some people are blessed with the amazing gift of answer evasion, or the ability to talk themselves out of an ambush. I am not one of those people.</span></div>
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</span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-size: 14px;">One of the many reasons I love </span><a data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=685590244811278&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK%2AF-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARBCZ-cN-i11TpGOTj-rqgHG4A-THVSp9_L8wwvtdzsIisoHBOtzgMXcF8sqbs9zCErJ9qy1bSkFB0K4%22%2C%22directed_target_id%22%3Anull%2C%22groups_location%22%3Anull%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/BetterCallSaulAMC/?__xts__%5B0%5D=68.ARA53edoWIbnfrCD1MuPnm58XCN12xN4IjmuS92Vcc_jbgpguaprMFwnOD0-clUoHBZrAbXVyR44u1koNFR5l27bB_McetimhfgCXCdV8uTPJbZpUB_MGJDSo9dBgpqaT3x_WGx-BZjH9q9Xzla3ythb1DT2UL2fHUeVH4k2fOT22efXfGfVk4pnvSw2Jj2Jf1k2fsTzSicMr8RUWWFUPhqJDKMsH4q-1S0ZIi-MkMx2rrvfWimjWqfdbjBMlchFJ5El_nD0zg8lvZkGlrQiLeI3ZLaU771pPrhiaOo-6eNUL5SLaPcQrksez7HTyzvHVBwLxhVSU-u0bZTPW5g4iboLAw&__tn__=%2CdK%2AF-R&eid=ARBCZ-cN-i11TpGOTj-rqgHG4A-THVSp9_L8wwvtdzsIisoHBOtzgMXcF8sqbs9zCErJ9qy1bSkFB0K4" style="background-color: white; color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-size: 14px;">Better Call Saul</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #1c1e21; font-size: 14px;"> is because I’m so impressed by this slick-talking, sleazy, slimy lawyer. Saul Goodman can talk himself out of any impossible, sticky situation; there are a few times in my life when I could have used a lawyer like him.</span></span></div>
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Better Call Saul is a (prequel) spin-off to Breaking Bad, but you don’t need to watch one to see the other. Better Call Saul airs on Monday nights on AMC, but you can binge watch the previous four seasons on Netflix.</div>
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<a data-lynx-mode="asynclazy" data-lynx-uri="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.amc.com%2Fshows%2Fbetter-call-saul%2Fseason-1%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR2GzTC5AM_wxf07LcCFkBf895p1ig2wkLH0-V2BKu_j_Di3nrylMjA8o6I&h=AT21VL5tSsbJ73vmhSkLqEjAGEOHXpT83CLVmsYeMd2fCxK9F5dhySK_R3CF5B0CfXzgnsoB2CtLuFzTcWilczBDU9Mg0RFFHU1VqLT7ngusNoGNm5fsBwW3qeGsXASb-EhH1YM" href="https://www.amc.com/shows/better-call-saul/season-1?fbclid=IwAR2GzTC5AM_wxf07LcCFkBf895p1ig2wkLH0-V2BKu_j_Di3nrylMjA8o6I" rel="nofollow noopener" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span>https://www.amc.com/shows/</span><wbr></wbr><span class="word_break" style="display: inline-block;"></span>better-call-saul/season-1</span></a></div>
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Side note - The phone number on the business card is actually real.<a class="_58cn" data-ft="{"type":104,"tn":"*N"}" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/itsallgoodman?epa=HASHTAG" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer;">#itsallgoodman</a></span></div>
</span></span>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-1978499100959400832020-03-22T16:58:00.001-04:002022-06-27T20:18:57.313-04:00Couch Potato Sessions: The Outsider - HBO <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nSL7EE8k32A/Xnpzz-TvWaI/AAAAAAAADkw/TL7--y--fGUZ_gVRyvI2Z3IyrI-rHL2zwCEwYBhgLKs0DAMBZVoAVhXsNy0Pbvt99byu3w7VCQfSSRx92eLUItMlksdBcm5ECo_pfMlZlVUdXQpSC_zjZw6TZl7pXTZYR0MynfnDmYaTvIhl_bHMaDkC_JTBIfvTQVutR4w1kZ7QJkzw9AUPS7XxfKnjJGRXDgCAMq9ole6hDawgeBgcBiEDoRNWxv3ds9loV3S6ibg1sqMmOCyOlTwtusLT0VL5cU0fIPectKgmY2NcaWvLy7QwuSe13CeTkgIgp57MT-eWIrS3DwnhF5N5oVxuGaH0SAsul4m6osZrCbOkvwA-UKbF3Qvy6TjFVB0H6nq5h9VJDtfKkc5fJuEcu6AUYYzlIDzXtH6huDUgWK4nv8-Ko7LO23Tr7OeOF3S7pOiTCyh6GEqEHT6MPGM1Af91JsX1FFMdESxaULoXV5RNGBOaz57POU8FUYSCp6DYnvF_J7xFq_KotXr0AOqjjBMO-NSNlm79VErd9BHTDAj3N3RsB1czBxW4rZge_W5EGjFeh_aYnhbPj_IzKlLLsY9M0xm0E8D_R2IM-yq8XeXuk18dnrmFf-Y-2iysZOQXP57DExBjpRVmSlXoqhmb8YZvP-7_1xlAjLZIbgICVspA3Kiwwjerp8wU/s1600/The-Outsider-Banner.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nSL7EE8k32A/Xnpzz-TvWaI/AAAAAAAADkw/TL7--y--fGUZ_gVRyvI2Z3IyrI-rHL2zwCEwYBhgLKs0DAMBZVoAVhXsNy0Pbvt99byu3w7VCQfSSRx92eLUItMlksdBcm5ECo_pfMlZlVUdXQpSC_zjZw6TZl7pXTZYR0MynfnDmYaTvIhl_bHMaDkC_JTBIfvTQVutR4w1kZ7QJkzw9AUPS7XxfKnjJGRXDgCAMq9ole6hDawgeBgcBiEDoRNWxv3ds9loV3S6ibg1sqMmOCyOlTwtusLT0VL5cU0fIPectKgmY2NcaWvLy7QwuSe13CeTkgIgp57MT-eWIrS3DwnhF5N5oVxuGaH0SAsul4m6osZrCbOkvwA-UKbF3Qvy6TjFVB0H6nq5h9VJDtfKkc5fJuEcu6AUYYzlIDzXtH6huDUgWK4nv8-Ko7LO23Tr7OeOF3S7pOiTCyh6GEqEHT6MPGM1Af91JsX1FFMdESxaULoXV5RNGBOaz57POU8FUYSCp6DYnvF_J7xFq_KotXr0AOqjjBMO-NSNlm79VErd9BHTDAj3N3RsB1czBxW4rZge_W5EGjFeh_aYnhbPj_IzKlLLsY9M0xm0E8D_R2IM-yq8XeXuk18dnrmFf-Y-2iysZOQXP57DExBjpRVmSlXoqhmb8YZvP-7_1xlAjLZIbgICVspA3Kiwwjerp8wU/s400/The-Outsider-Banner.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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My husband and I watch A LOT of television together. Our shared interest in movies and television shows isn’t healthy for the amount of time we spend on the couch. This ‘Self Isolation’, ‘Social Distancing’ situation certainly won’t help; Edward and I will surely be bingeing!<br />
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When Game of Thrones ended there wasn’t much that we bonded over watching on Sunday nights and I had to hear a lot of noise and grumbling about my trashy reality show addiction. Then came <a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=100185721356832&extragetparams=%7B%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARBMzrCpLWWtARZSVcnx5TyW-e0Vn3eEBGz8qoi84rOq6cB9RMtWN2V-yiKMPovx91f8hZYTULtv4Etb%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/TheOutsiderHBO/?__tn__=K-R&eid=ARBMzrCpLWWtARZSVcnx5TyW-e0Vn3eEBGz8qoi84rOq6cB9RMtWN2V-yiKMPovx91f8hZYTULtv4Etb&fref=mentions&__xts__%5B0%5D=68.ARD6seTX9Zt3VoV0iDxlo8gBLnSQMY4-Ex4ZlpDMmFkknmozdbyZ8560Y-iF66k_rDlpkDwX6JGASKLEZui0Vkf7bWHp_irz9rgZUdSd0s3afY_awnX_edQqv1INjth_vlDseJHzmE0dzL7I6HcPXGk9dy_KHxuWUN3ldvuDETpmCrB1dWJ2TMXlxsr-Ch7r9on6eo9mKAQt0avVLKrrsICf4vbHdz8K6MZXNQm-VtH0s8l2QiUF1oW1LhWua4nleYDRWzbYWQqoraVbPEG24F67cP44DG7gOo1bIle4QQodih86XvEoTwmGWL6Hs2V9KYA3CLT8suDHnEoJj-uYneWuNA" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;">The Outsider</a>! It’s dark, suspenseful, psychologically thrilling with a dash of supernatural. The season is over, but if you have HBO, catch up on demand!<br />
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<a data-ft="{"tn":"-U"}" data-lynx-mode="async" data-lynx-uri="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.hbo.com%2Fthe-outsider%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR3numMOWUayn7wtRSHbj8msiX6Da33GpPKWUtpMKnlJBo_9bJxrxjC_-No&h=AT3Bd7bUkw5LRIYPyz49btsH0URUSKwnMv8YL8c4tmgqqWAR9kUmipTFGZmRQ4YSWbHnh9lLdTkRMUbrdpwAz2Oj7QAvCT0bhtNwiLpi_9ECg5JUIK4bWzdtB2tXII_g2DxJsTXV4FRG9atlSkC6FX2AyjQ5Yl0XygyF5S_OldV1AmBJHPZJfgLBns1ULBH1CVijQZS3yd9B4FioVi_cQjxZfJNgWjKydML1nMOofoc4osv20WhnD6SJLbmZyiC6LKFhpdLmMVCHwGF372pfGHBEAFIErR8fBSdOrCPEazKP5fUI7vXA_4VHmM8dB39jrDOqPi2fq312WUEcfFhbgXo82JwwtQjowmKnVUNFTuBqPk9GkfPYnfXeMAFLJThYjdNJjMpc3XU8wSzm9gArTbovzULPVpRYESrr0P_iX48JDL7l5iZWoGlpyO2YqZOfjGmO7DpQ7LK3mqmF7n-yJvvi2q16tDAYNcE1Q_tpxnuZUi8v0EXy47R17nz17qgxRQ32j8eR8Bft5wSjGgmBr5xzi6v7EPtZdWcFwxSIxQUXxIqAu05CEYDmvJQagzAPMtzM64Jp1UWmLdhwx6KGiVrdxb_xICNQrJde2-1qRrDQyKWizVddgKSakuRm3lsIqVV79oyL" href="https://www.hbo.com/the-outsider?fbclid=IwAR3numMOWUayn7wtRSHbj8msiX6Da33GpPKWUtpMKnlJBo_9bJxrxjC_-No" rel="noopener nofollow" style="background-color: transparent; color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit;" target="_blank">https://www.hbo.com/the-outsider</a></div>
Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-26206836506696981192019-07-01T12:41:00.001-04:002022-06-27T20:18:41.288-04:00All Things Work Together for Good<div style="text-align: justify;">The fifth anniversary for the due date of my <a href="http://www.louisecazley.com/2014/06/june-4th-2014.html">angel baby</a> took place a few weeks ago. Although my intense feelings towards my loss have eased, I know I’ll never completely get over it. My due date is branded within me so an internal ‘ping’ goes off whenever that time of year rolls around. I can’t help but often wonder about that pregnancy loss and what my life would have been like had I not suffered a miscarriage. Instead of celebrating my child’s 5th birthday, I was gearing up for my 4th uterine surgery in hopes of rectifying the roadblocks that are preventing my multiple IVF cycles from ending with success.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">As I walked towards the operating room, I felt scared. It took some effort to blink away my emotional heaviness and not embarrass myself by bursting into tears as the resident nurse made small talk with me about the weather.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I feel tired and beat up and honestly, I don’t want to do this anymore. I’ve been asking myself if a baby is really worth all of this trouble. Is it worth all of the synthetic hormones coursing through my body? Is it worth the mental and emotional disarray that hits me unexpectedly at times making me feel as if I’m losing a grip on my sanity? When I visualized my future, having a baby took place in a moment of passion, not with doctors, needles, surgeries and maddeningly insensitive commentary from those who just can’t understand.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I’m so exhausted and it’s a huge struggle to keep the faith when everything in front of me seems so impossible. On the other hand, my entire life has consisted of impossibilities miraculously coming to fruition - so I hold on to my history in an effort to motivate me through each step of this journey.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Although the miscarriage I suffered was one of my most awful experiences to date, my loss sparked a chain of wonderful events that led me to where I am today. And while these days I have quite a few tough moments, in the midst of it all I am quite happy!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I’ve accepted that “These are the days that must happen to me.” (I saw that quote at an antique shop I visited last summer in Asbury Park and brought it home with me). I sincerely believe that everything that happens in life, both good and bad is supposed to happen. There is a plan in place for my life, this is my path and all events are working together for a purpose.</div>
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<span style="color: #999999; font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: justify;">Romans 8:28 - ... all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.</div></span>Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-50505819911255086812019-02-04T11:54:00.001-05:002022-06-27T20:18:28.642-04:00Forty and Forever a Work in Progress<div style="text-align: justify;">I celebrated my 40th birthday two weeks ago and it was ah-maze-ing!! I danced so much that I’m just regaining the feeling in one of my big toes. Although there were threats of a winter storm, most of the people I love were able to make it. It was just the most fantastic time and I’m still on a high from all of the music, laughter and love. It might be the best party I’ve had, with the exception of my wedding, of course! (I lost the feeling in both of my big toes for that event).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I cannot believe I’m forty! Not because I’m depressed about it at all. I’m thrilled to be here! I’m in a better place in my life than I was when I was thirty and I’m also happier than I was when I was thirty. Also, I believe my anti-aging creams have been doing a good job so I think I’ve maintained pretty well – Ha! I can’t believe I’m forty because the time in between thirty and forty happened so quickly.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Although it feels like the years went by so swiftly, I feel like I’ve lived a few lives in the past decade. So many wonderful, terrible, scary yet awesome things have taken place during those ten years. And although so many things in my life have changed, at my core I’m still the same. When I was a teenager, I always searched beneath the surface of life to find meaning and direction in the words and the people that crossed my path. I thought that by now I would have everything figured out. I don’t and I’ve come to realize and accept that I never will, and that’s ok.</div>
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<b><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>I’m Still a Mental Case</b></div></b><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">My mind is like a web of constant thoughts and words all intersecting and colliding with each other, so it’s never quiet up there. I’m a thinker, an analyzer and I process and dissect every-damn-thing! I used to think that something was wrong with me for being this way, but after meeting a host of people who see beyond what’s in front of them, I realize that it’s ok to have some depth. I’ve finally accepted that I will always be this way; always looking to the Bible, books, people and psychology and taking the things from those resources that educate, uplift and help me to evolve into a better person.</div>
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<b><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Nothing Really Matters</b></div></b><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">I don’t know how many times I’ve been in a hot flash of panic about something at work, something that has gone wrong in an IVF cycle, the list can go on... The anxiety, the tears, the palpitations, the mental torment are all so unhealthy and so unnecessary. In the moment it feels like my world is ending, but when I look back on those panicked moments a week, a month or a year later it all comes down to nothing.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I’m working on keeping calm – it will be a lengthy process.</div>
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<b><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Standing Up for Me</b></div></b><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">I’m not always good at it, but I’m learning to stand up for myself. It’s amazing how far people will try to push you if you allow them. I haven’t always been good at teaching people how to treat me, but I’ve gotten a lot better at it. Knowing your worth is beneficial in all relationships and can save you a great deal of head and heartache in the end.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">If I can give respect to those around me, I deserve to receive that same respect in return. It sounds simple enough, but anyone who has been involved with people knows that it doesn’t always work that way.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I’m working on demanding the respect I deserve. Even if my heart shakes and I burst into tears while I’m demanding it.</div>
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<b><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Trusting my Gut</b></div></b><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>
<div><div style="text-align: justify;">I’ve made so many excuses and allowances for questionable behavior and walked myself into many situations that I should have steered clear of. My naivety and ‘benefit of the doubt’ mentality have gotten me into more issues than I care to admit. When something, isn’t right you have an inkling in your gut that you can’t shake.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I haven’t always followed those inklings, but I now act faster when I pick up on those red flags. I’m getting better at trusting myself.</div>
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<b><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>God’s Timing is Divine</b></div></b><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">Turning forty and not being a mother is heart wrenching for me. Although I have been through a lot, God has always been faithful to me. When I look at how far I have come in the past decade, there are so many impossible situations that I have overcome. I’m not the best Christian, but God’s grace has always covered me. God has always made a way out of no way. The answers to my prayers haven’t always come when I’ve wanted them to, but the timing has always been on point.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Life’s hurdles are unpleasant, but they are also character building. My life is pretty boring so these peaks and valleys add a touch of flair and pizzazz. At least that's how I choose to look at it.</div>
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<b><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>It’s Never Too Late</b></div></b><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">I’m in a constant battle with myself not to give up on my creativity. I don’t have as much time and energy as I used to and I’ve allowed life to get in the way of a lot of the projects that I want to see through. Although it has become difficult to live a balanced life and keep my creativity alive, I won’t give up and I won’t give in no matter how long it takes me to complete the projects swimming around in my head. My determination always forces me to finish what I start, it just might take me a bit longer than it used to.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I’m going to write more blogs, I’m going to finish all of my knitting projects, I’m going to finish writing that book even if it takes me a few years and I’m going to dance because it fills me with life.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">My mother-in-law who is in her seventies dances and performs (#goals) and if she’s shown me anything, it’s not to limit myself because of time, age or for any other reason that my self doubt is giving me. </div></div>
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<div><div style="text-align: justify;">Even though I don’t have it all together at forty, I’m settled where it counts. I’m imperfect, but I’m honest, transparent, and a decent human being and for that I’m very proud of the woman I’ve become.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Life is about learning, reflecting and evolving. I’ve learned a lot about myself in the past decade and I’m excited to see where the next decade is going to take me.</div></div>
Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-55397709746828098752017-12-29T23:50:00.000-05:002017-12-29T23:50:50.884-05:00IVF - The Journey<div style="text-align: justify;">
From the beginning of my IVF journey I’ve had a huge amount of support. I have friends who have gone through the process, friends who are going through the process and friends who don’t completely understand IVF, but are there for me nonetheless. I am also blessed to have a husband who is an awesome cheerleader and who is capable of handling all of the unstable emotions that have possessed me during this journey. I’ve never truly been alone, but it’s been a lonely journey at times especially when I allow my thoughts to run rampant for an extended period of time. </div>
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Although my good friend had given me the full IVF run-down, I still wasn’t prepared for how taxing it would be. </div>
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I’m on a break at the moment, but I've practically lived at the fertility clinic for the majority of the year. My life has become twice-daily booty injections, pills, blood work and unstable emotions. Thank God that I’m great with needles because there is a lot of sticking and poking involved. The injections are a team effort. I prepare the injections and Edward is in charge of administering. </div>
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Preparation for the egg retrieval was physically and mentally exhausting. One morning, my co-worker/friend swung by my desk to say hello and I felt myself beginning to crack. I was already in a troubled state before she stopped by and that ‘Hello’ set me off. Because I was at work, I blinked back my meltdown and after being woo-wooed by my friend, I quickly got myself under control. </div>
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I tried to be strong. I tried to convince myself that it was only appointments. I can do appointments. They tell you what time to be there, you wake up and you go. But it's so much more than 'only appointments' and there is only so much psyching up of myself I could do before the situation leveled me. </div>
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My egg retrieval was extremely comfortable and the outcome was positive. I had healthy eggs that developed into healthy fertilized embryos. We lost a few of the eggs, which is normal, but we still have a good number of embryos of which I hope 1 (or 2) will develop into a baby so that I don’t have to go through the egg retrieval process again; but if I have to do it again - I will. </div>
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Now that we had our good, healthy embryos we began the preparing for the embryo transfer. Preparing for the embryo transfer was less intense than preparing for the egg retrieval, but still extremely exhausting. My first embryo transfer was canceled because my uterine lining was a bit thin. I really appreciate that they didn't want to waste my embryo on a ‘chance’, especially since we went through so much to get them. Still, I was really disappointed. I was aware that I should be flexible because things can change from one day to the next or be canceled at the drop of a hat, but I’m not a flexible person. This experience is forcing me into flexibility whether I like it or not.</div>
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About a week after my canceled embryo transfer, we began preparing for the transfer again. This time I’d searched Google inside-out and upside-down for methods of increasing the thickness of my uterine lining. I drank pomegranate juice, red raspberry leaf tea and a good friend recommended acai extract supplements. My doc also prescribed additional medication so that instead of receiving one nightly booty injection Edward had the pleasure of administering two. Something worked because my uterine lining thickened beautifully and we were given a date for our embryo transfer.</div>
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The transfer was easy, but the doctor who performed the transfer asked if I’d ever had surgery on my uterus. I figured he asked me that question because he’d had a hard time inserting the catheter, possibly due to scar tissue that developed from my previous surgeries.</div>
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My embryo transfer failed and I went dark for a few weeks. I knew that there was a huge chance that the transfer would fail, but I was hopeful going into it for the first time. I was a bit hard on myself for believing that the first try would be successful and I had to fight to accept that the hope I felt was natural. </div>
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I tried to talk myself out of the darkness, but it became hard to get up in the morning. The act of removing my feet from the bed and getting them to touch the floor was difficult. Getting out of bed meant that I had to go out, smile and pretend that I was ok. I was already exhausted and pretending took a lot of energy. I just wanted to lie down. I had such a bad breakdown at work one day that I thought I was going to have to go home. I couldn’t be on the street or on the train in the condition I was in so I just hid in the bathroom and called my dad-friend who has always been great at calming me down. I really felt like I was going crazy.</div>
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I’m blessed to have a two surrogate mom-friends and one surrogate dad-friend who continuously look after me in situations like these and who have saved me millions of dollars in therapy. One of my Christian surrogate mom-friends was able to talk me off the ledge. I’d completely shut down, but I knew that I needed to talk to someone and so I reached out to this particular mom-friend. She actually didn’t say much, but she said everything exactly right as if she had a message to deliver specifically to me. It sounds insane, but I felt the darkness lift as my friend was speaking and at the end of our conversation I felt complete peace. That conversation broke me out of my depression and a peace that passes all understanding has been with me ever since.</div>
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I had another painful test on my uterus to determine the condition of the cavity before having another embryo transferred. I was right about the scar tissue. Thankfully, by the time I received the call confirming that I would need a third surgery to remove scar tissue in my uterus, I was in a much better mental space. I am actually really looking forward to the surgery because it will give me a chance to relax for an entire week.</div>
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My surgery was supposed to take place this month, but everything is out of whack due to the medication my body has endured, so the surgery has been postponed until January. In the beginning, I had an expectation of immediacy and with IVF, that’s not at all realistic. I’ve come to accept that a change in a day, a month or a couple of months doesn’t really make much of a difference. Things are going to happen when they are going to happen and there isn't a thing I can do about it. </div>
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At the end of every year I visualize where (God willing) I hope to be by the end of the following year. I’m working on adjusting my expectations. I’m working on letting go of the things that I can’t control and making the most of the things I can control. I’m grateful to be in a better place mentally and I’m grateful to have people in my life to steer me back on the right path whenever I veer into darkness. </div>
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Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-56829426644656983762017-12-28T14:02:00.000-05:002019-06-23T01:34:24.129-04:00The IVF Struggle is Real<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the summer of 1991 the youngest member of my Cazley family was born. I was ten-years-old when I became a big sister, but mentally I was still a baby. I still wanted and needed my mother desperately. She was my world, the only thing I cared about and I wasn’t mature enough, when the first of my Cazley brothers arrived, to truly appreciate the glorious miracle that a newborn baby was.</div>
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When my second brother was born I was twelve. By then I was a little more mature. In the words of Britney Spears, I was ‘not yet a woman’, but old enough to appreciate what a newborn meant to the Cazley family. By then I was old enough to appreciate the fresh bloom and the beam of pure happiness that the new baby brought into our lives. </div>
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My mom fell ill soon after the baby was born so I became his sole caretaker. I fed him, I changed him, I sang to him and rocked with him long into the night when he just wouldn’t go the f*%k to sleep. Although he was mine, he never truly belonged to me. He was an extension of my heart and of my DNA, but really, he wasn’t mine and I was absolutely fine with that. I was uninterested in him fully belonging to me because I was a selfish twelve-year-old who was growing breasts, discovering boys and discussing those boys with my friends. Regardless, I was still able to experience a maternal love spreading through me as his tiny body lay curled up on my chest or in my arms. I never forgot that feeling or the fresh smell of his curly, new-to-the-world head. </div>
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Someone at church once overheard me calling my brother ‘my baby’ and I became embarrassed because I didn’t want any outsiders to witness just how much I loved this baby. Maternal love came so naturally to me, even at the age of twelve, that it only made sense that I would one day be a mother.</div>
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In 2013, I thought my time had come. After a late period, two lines on a stick told me that I was indeed with child. Those two lines on that stick are still the most miraculous and surreal thing that have ever happened to me. I was home alone when I took the test and I ran screaming so loudly from the bathroom that my cat went running for cover.</div>
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A blood test confirmed my pregnancy. An 8 week appointment further confirmed it, but in week 9, an emotionally and physically painful miscarriage knocked me off me feet, sunk me into depression and shut down my dream of motherhood for the moment.</div>
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During my pregnancy, a large fibroid was discovered in my uterus. A few years later, I had the fibroid removed with the intention of having a baby inhabit that space. Shortly after that surgery, another growth was discovered. So after having the two uterine surgeries, I got the green light from my OBGYN. Maternally I’m old, so I didn’t want to waste time trying naturally; I made an appointment with a fertility clinic that was recommended by my OBGYN. I had a consultation, underwent a few tests and now I was just waiting for the results.</div>
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A few days before Mother’s Day I learned that not one, but both of my fallopian tubes were blocked. This was an absolute shock to me especially since I’d gotten pregnant naturally the first time. In order to obtain my own fresh smelling, curly, new-to-the-world head, I would have to undergo In Vitro Fertilization.</div>
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The Mother’s Day after my miscarriage was extremely tough. Over the years Mother's Day has become easier to handle, but this past Mother’s Day I spent all of my energy struggling not to embarrass myself in public with an ugly cry. My throat hurt from holding it in all day, but I am extremely impressed with how well I did.</div>
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So began the process of testing and ongoing daily, every-other-daily early in the morning ass appointments. If you know me well you know my ass ain’t an early in the morning daily, every-other-daily appointment person, but for my own fresh smelling, new-to-the-world baby, I will be that person.</div>
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I’m certainly not a victim and I hate ever coming off like one, but I just can’t understand why the natural progression of my life always includes so many road blocks. The second I overcome one thing, there is always something else and it’s as if I can't ever catch a break. I’m so damn exhausted and the sad thing about this life is that it could always be worse. This has been my mentality for the majority of the year; fighting with myself to stay afloat – If I allow myself to succumb to my negativity there is nowhere to spiral but downwards. I only have one life to live and I refuse to live my life on a downward spiral. </div>
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One of the fights I often have with myself is regarding my previous pregnancy. I’m disappointed that my previous pregnancy wasn’t successful. My baby would have been three-years-old now. I realize that the body is an awesome machine. Many miscarriages take place because the fetus is abnormal and the pregnancy is not meant to be successful for that reason. The body knows this and takes control. I understand all of that, but sometimes I just wonder why. IVF isn’t cheap and my previous pregnancy was free. I know that sounds hilarious (I’m crazy), but it’s true. </div>
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Before IVF, I thought about the process in such a frivolous, glamorous way. Why not undergo IVF if you have the money? Why not undergo IVF if you can get twins? Well there is nothing glamorous about it and it’s not something I would ever wish on anyone. </div>
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When I had thoughts of starting a family, IVF was not at all what I had in mind. It has certainly been an emotionally, mind-twisting ride. I’m working on accepting circumstances that are out of my control. If I dwell on my sadness and disappointment I will never move forward so I only have one choice, and that’s taking whatever steps necessary to get me to where I hope to be. </div>
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To be continued…</div>
Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-27411309192213879342017-11-10T11:07:00.001-05:002022-06-27T20:19:58.071-04:00Danfredo Photos & Films<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.danfredo.com/"><img border="0" data-original-height="257" data-original-width="750" height="109" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M9nGHp3xJBE/Wf7D5rb9EoI/AAAAAAAABVM/PSVZwNUgZTMFbUbX3UmaK0EGhRS3suIOACLcBGAs/s320/download.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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I met Danielle of <a href="http://www.danfredo.com/">Danfredo Photos & Films</a> randomly. One of my writer friends introduced me to Danielle’s blog and I reached out to her to purchase some ad space to promote my second book. During our emails back and forth, we discovered that we literally lived one minute away from each other, so we decided to meet in person. Danielle was easy to fall in love with and she instantly became my friend. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When Danielle and I first met, she hadn't taken the leap into photography just yet, but when she did I was elated that she asked me to be one of her test subjects. Her photos were absolutely incredible! Danielle possessed the natural ability to direct and to snap beautiful candid shots of me mid-laugh after she just cracked a hilarious joke. I would be expecting my face to be contorted into some grotesque expression, but the photo would always be gorgeous! Danielle and her hubby, Wil, giving birth to Danfredo Photos & Films was not a matter of ‘if’, it was a matter of ‘when’.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I reached out to Danfredo the second Edward proposed to me because <i>OF COURSE</i> they would be the ones to document one of the most important events to take place in our lives. Edward and I already knew the date that we planned on getting married, and with less than a year to plan, we can only thank the Lord that they weren’t already booked for our date.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">There is a huge level of comfort that comes with having your good friends take control of such an intimate part of your wedding. Because we are all familiar with each other, Edward and I were able to be our true selves in front of the camera instead of a stiff, stuffy married couple that we wouldn't have recognized as ourselves.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I am obsessed with each and every single image that was captured at our wedding, but <b>this</b> is one of my absolute favorites:</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dlLBBzO1gnw/Wf7DDN1iFxI/AAAAAAAABVA/nRZJxTj6VzAkax02i_pR6KHkkVjVdws2ACLcBGAs/s1600/galarza-142.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1067" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dlLBBzO1gnw/Wf7DDN1iFxI/AAAAAAAABVA/nRZJxTj6VzAkax02i_pR6KHkkVjVdws2ACLcBGAs/s320/galarza-142.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">The night that Edward and I received our photos and video from Danfredo, we stayed up (on a school night) until some ridiculous hour in the morning ooh-ing, aah-ing and laughing hysterically at the moments Danfredo documented that we missed because we were busy getting married.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I don't have enough words to justify the range of emotions I experience each time I delve into our photos (which is quite often. I should be embarrassed about this, but I’m not). My heart becomes so full from the love that is displayed. Love from our friends, love from our families, Edward and I’s love for each other and the love that radiated to us from behind the lens. And I am overwhelmed with appreciation of the fact that we get to repeatedly relive one of our most important days due to the immense care and detail that was put into documenting our day.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I’ve falling deeper in love with Danielle, Wil and the entire staff of Danfredo Photos & Films ☺.</div></div>
Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5933308939153952811.post-11486980156666603202017-08-21T12:36:00.001-04:002022-06-27T20:20:27.023-04:00The Details<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<b>Save the Dates</b></div>
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I love playing with paper so of course I wanted to make my save the dates from scratch. I found a template on Pinterest for <a href="http://somethingturquoise.com/2015/01/16/diy-instagram-save-the-dates-3/">DIY Instagram Save the Dates </a>that was easy enough and got to cutting, taping and gluing. Putting together 130 save the dates was a lot, but this was just the beginning of the cutting of the papers so I enjoyed every minute of it. </div>
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<b>The Invitations</b><br />
<b><br /></b>I wanted to make my invitations from scratch as well, but everything I found was way too time consuming. These <a href="https://www.gartnerstudios.com/wedding/wedding-invitations/print-at-home-diy-invitations.html?">DIY Wedding Invitations </a>weren't exactly made from scratch, but I already had my hands full so they were about as close as I was going to get to making them from scratch. The color scheme was perfect and I also found them on sale at Target! Yeay!!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W0bZricqLOQ/WX1bkQ5XTyI/AAAAAAAAA2I/DfVivBp5KKYuxhZfy6pjkWodSRUWuG87wCEwYBhgL/s1600/galarza-657.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="266" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-W0bZricqLOQ/WX1bkQ5XTyI/AAAAAAAAA2I/DfVivBp5KKYuxhZfy6pjkWodSRUWuG87wCEwYBhgL/s400/galarza-657.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by <a href="http://www.danfredo.com/" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Danfredo Photos & Film</a></td></tr>
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<b>Escort Cards, Favor Tags & More Favor Tags</b><br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Surprisingly I couldn't find any templates that would fit with our wedding favors or any templates that I loved where I could just plug in the names of our guests and print, so I designed my own with an Avery label template. When I start something, I have to finish it, so I sat on the living room floor for hours with my paper cutter, slicing 130 escort cards, then 130 favor tags, then 130 tags stating what the favors were, which I ended up not using because anyone in their right mind could see what the favors were. </span>Like I said, I love playing with paper, but this was beginning to stress me out. I should have asked for help, but I never do, so I didn't. </div>
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My original idea was to attach the escort cards to mini bottles of champagne, but our budget didn't call for this champagne type of expense so my Plan B was to go with mini bottles of sparkling water. Groomsman-Randy ended up gifting us with cans of <a href="http://www.brucecostgingerale.com/">Bruce Cost Ginger Ale</a>, the best ginger ale I have ever tasted in my life. The ginger ale ended up working out perfectly especially because the color of the ginger ale can coincided the color scheme of our wedding.</div>
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Maid of Honor-Giselle and Bridesmaid-Daisy came over to help me put the favors and escort cards together. At this point I stopped trying to do everything by myself and began accepting help wherever I could get it. Edward could see that I was becoming a bit frazzled so he offered to help and I gave him the task of snipping 130 pieces of ribbon.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by <a href="http://www.danfredo.com/" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Danfredo Photos & Film</a></td></tr>
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<b style="text-align: justify;">The Flowers</b></div>
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I'd read an article that suggested Costco as a good place for purchasing flowers in bulk. This ended up being a very cost effective recommendation, but it involved more work. I would have to assemble and arrange the flowers myself. Bridesmaid-Daisy came over to assist with that task. I ordered three hundred stems of babies breath which was more than enough to create the bridesmaid bouquets, the table setting arrangements and serve as decorations for the ceremony. There were so many flowers that, sadly, I ended up having to toss a few bunches at the end of the wedding. Two hundred stems would have been enough.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by <a href="http://www.danfredo.com/" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Danfredo Photos & Film</a></td></tr>
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<b style="text-align: justify;"><b style="text-align: justify;">The Cake</b></b></div>
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;">... was fake. Kevin, Maid of Honor-Giselle's hubby, is extremely crafty, so I asked for his help with quite a few of the decor items that we used in our wedding. I purchased the cake shaped tiers of Styrofoam from Michael's and handed them over to Kevin so that he could work his magic. Our edible wedding cake came from BJ's which was also cost effective and delicious! Two sheet cakes were enough to feed all of our guests and we still had a third of one cake left untouched.</div></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by <a href="http://www.danfredo.com/" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Danfredo Photos & Film</a></td></tr>
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<b>The Wishing Well</b><br />
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I also asked Kevin for his services to paint our wishing well, welcome sign and table numbers. Our wishing well came from Michael's and our table numbers (among other items) came from IKEA. Since I don't have any wheels of my own just yet, Mr. & Mrs. Maid of Honor were awesome enough to make runs to IKEA on my behalf. I will forever be grateful to them for actually humoring my ideas and having a <b>huge</b> hand in bringing them to life.<br />
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I didn't find a template for the table numbers that worked for me, so I designed my own template in a word document which meant more cutting of papers. I found mini envelopes on Amazon for the wishing well notes, but I couldn't find any mini note cards that matched our color scheme (or maybe I was just too cheap to buy them). I ended up buying a ream of card stock and commenced the cutting of the papers...</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image by <a href="http://www.danfredo.com/" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Danfredo Photos & Film</a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><br /></span>Although it was a bit overwhelming, I still thoroughly enjoyed all of the creative projects that I burdened myself with. I could have spent the money to have most of these details taken care of, but there was an inexplicable thrill of satisfaction in handling most of the projects myself. I'm so looking<br />
utilizing some of these ideas when the times comes for planning a baby shower - but for that event I will be shelling out the loot so that someone else can do the bulk of the handiwork ☺.<br />
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Up Next: <b>Danfredo Photos & Films</b></div>
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Louise Cazleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03843376365087686792noreply@blogger.com0