Here.

My to-do list is long. Bedding needs washed, floors need swept, the bathrooms need cleaned, someone should buy some groceries, and my baby needs to have her baby clothes switched out for toddler clothes. Of course, the clothes swapping is my favorite and least favorite of my chores to do. My favorite because I love to introduce new, cute clothes to her wardrobe, and the least favorite because my baby isn't such a baby. When I consider that she could be an only child, I find myself hanging on to every stage a little bit longer than she does.

Oh, the dishwasher needs unloaded and reloaded, and the previous load that is drying on the counter needs put away. And the crockpot sitting off to the side of the sink has a ring of leftover (burnt) chili that I just can't scrub away. The counter must feel overwhelmed just like I do.

But as I was listening to the Today Show yesterday, while nursing McKinley in our special chair, I heard Hoda (or Kathie Lee, not sure) say "Be Here Now". Whatever you're doing, whoever you're with, Be Here Now. So, I let that sit all day, in my mind and on my heart.

I played some dolls and read a couple of books, and had extra tickle time. And it was hard, but I put my phone down.

I'm going to print out some signs and hang them around my house. I might get all fancy and pinterest-y and make them look pretty, or I might print them out in Comic Sans* and just hang them. The sign isn't important - the words are.

Be Here Now.

*I would never.

Teeter. Totter.

I having a hard time finding balance.

In work and my marriage and preparing for a baby and friendships and blogging and life in general like going to the grocery store and getting my hair cut and remembering to stop at the gas station before the "low fuel" light comes on.

Work is getting busy for me and for Aaron. Time at work goes by fast, time at home, faster. We come home, eat dinner, clean up dishes, mow (eh, not me. I don't know how to turn the mower on.) play with the dog, pack lunches for tomorrow, shower, laundry, collapse. I know we are not alone in this, and I know it will only get more intense when we throw a baby into the mix.

I'm stepping away for a while. I still have things to say, but I don't want to feel pressure to write here, fearing that if I don't have something witty to say, no one will come back.

But I need to spend the time I have enjoying things like my marriage, organizing baby clothes, and washing the 7 outfits on rotation.

Be back later.

**This may have something to do with my decision not to attend Relevant. Plus I'll have a 10 week old and I've already lost sleep thinking about how she and I will get there and get around and get home and so on. It's also the weekend of my anniversary, and as I fall more in love with my husband each day, I realized how much I don't want to be away from him then. Thanks for understanding.

Ugh.

The phone rang at the most inappropriate time.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Natalie? This is your doctor's office. The doctor has the result's of your test back, and...we need you to come in again".

"Uh, okay. What's wrong?"

"Well, it appears as though the retest from the procedure you had done in May was 'abnormal'."

Abnormal is not a good word, not when your uterus is involved.

I'll get back to you soon. This sucks. Cause I just wanna have a baby, and my uterus is not cooperating!

Anniversary! (& Winners!)

Yesterday was our second wedding anniversary! Thank you for all the sweet Twitter and Facebook messages!

We exchanged our vows,



While a couple member's of the wedding party took afternoon naps.



We hugged a tree,



And then met Elvis on our honeymoon!

Also, at one point on our honeymoon, we ate at Wendy's. And this picture captures Aaron's personality and makes me smile.

Happy Anniversary to my wonderful husband!

***************************

There were a couple Anonymous commenters who were chosen to receive the Seeds of Hope from Earth Mama Angel Baby. I have listed the comment time here, and if it was your comment, and you would like the Seeds, please email me at nataliejcline at yahoo dot com.

If you do not want to identify yourself, I completely understand. You will have until Monday, October 26 at 9 am to email me your information. If there are unclaimed packets of Seeds of Hope, I will choose new names. Also, if your name is listed below and you did not receive an email, it was because I did not have your address. Please email me!

Seeds of Hope

Michele

Living In A Girls World

Julia

JayBee

RHCP - 10/15 - 9:03 am

SaraJoy

The Root of All Evel

Anon (Amy T) - 10/15 - 2:37 pm

Em

Rachel - 10/18 - 4:02 am

The winner of the $25 gift certificate to the Earth Mama Angel Baby site is Mrs. Soup! Hopefully you find something wonderful for yourself or Baby Soup!

Thank you to Earth Mama Angel Baby for providing the Seeds of Hope and gift certificate!

Where Were YOU When the World Stopped Turning?

It was a Tuesday that started like any other. I jumped out of my top bunk and hurried off to class, making small talk with my roommate of just two weeks.

I arrived to class early, as all good students do, and took my seat. Sociology 101. A kid who hadn't been on time yet that semester, walked in about 10 minutes late and sat beside me. He turned around and said something to the student behind him about an airplane hitting a building in New York. How crazy.

I left class, and made the journey across campus to the Center for Performing Arts to attend my Women's Choir class. It seemed like every student I passed was on their cell phone. When I entered the CPA, there were students gathered around a television in the lobby. Some of them were crying, some were staring blankly. I remember vividly that no one was talking. I didn't dare ask what was happening, but walked to my classroom and waited to be told. I don't remember feeling anything at this point, because I just didn't know what was going on.

When I left class, the campus was eerily quiet. Lots of students were still on their cell phones, classes had been cancelled for the rest of the day, and the Student Union was shutting down. I walked back across campus to my dorm, and walked up to the elevator. When the elevator doors opened to take me to the 13th floor, there stood a lone young man, a college freshman. He was wearing his uniform, and he looked brave. I asked him where he was going, and he replied "I don't know, but they told me to come".

My heart dropped. Just as it has done again, recalling the look on his face. A look that said "I will do what I have to so that you are safe tonight". I felt safe just encountering him.

The elevator could not get to my floor fast enough. I walked down the hallway, past one open door after another. Some rooms had gathered many students, other rooms were nearly empty.

My roommate was in our room, and when I walked in, we bearly spoke to each other, but I know I felt connected to her. Our Nation had just experienced a tragedy, and we were in it together. We joined other friends in a room across campus, where we watched the events 9/11 unfold, prayed, and contacted our families. We had hardly known each other, and yet, we were united. All Americans were united.

There was a prayer vigil organized and students of all religions joined together in the middle of the campus to cry out to God, asking why and how and pleading for safety.

The rest of the week was a complete blur. I don't remember when classes started again, I don't remember watching anything else on television. I don't remember what I was wearing. But I know where I was, and who I was with. And I remember how I felt.

I felt pride that our country stood together. I felt complete sadness that so many people lost their lives. Heartbroken that wives went to bed without their husbands, children without their mothers, parents without their children. Civilians, Military Men and Women, the Men and Women of the New York Fire and Police Departments, all answered the call, to defend freedom, and protect lives.

And today, I feel pride. Pride for My Country. Pride for My Brother, My Uncle, My Brother-in-law, who have all served in Operation Freedom. Many others like them, who put on their brave face, and served. Away from their families, away from a comfortable bed, air conditioning, the security of sleeping at night. They missed Christmases, Birthday's, Weddings. They missed milestones in their children's lives, celebrating anniversaries with their spouses.

I cannot express my gratitude. I have no words for the way I feel. My heart is overflowing with appreciation for the sacrifices made for my safety! My heart overflows with pride that people I love are brave and selfless!

They sacrifice for me. And for you. And for us. And they are the reason I can sleep tonight, knowing well that I live in the best country in the world.

"I have answered my nation's call.

I am a warrior.

I defend my country with my life.

I will not falter.

I will not fail."

(I thought long and hard about posting pictures of my family and friends in the military here, but am so concerned with their protection. I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Thank you for sending your pictures to me. )

I would love to hear where you were on 9/11/01, or if you have loved ones in the military. I think it is crucial that we always remember.

A Lovely Giveaway

Have you met Lovelyn? You really should go visit her blog. You should read about her heart and her love for the children of the world. She's traveling to Uganda and bringing two young children home with her, to be hers. Lovelyn's story is one compassion and love.

I don't know Lovelyn in real life, but I hope that changes very soon. (I was introduced to her story through Beth, a dear friend.)

You can learn more about Lovelyn by visiting her site. While you are there, you will see the t-shirts she designed to bring awareness to the tragedy that is 147 million orphaned children in the world. Each child unique, precious, designed for love. To be loved. To be held and kissed and disciplined. To laugh and grow and be a child. To learn and live and become.

Sigh. What can we do? So much poverty in the world, children without homes and clean water and food to nourish their bodies. I want to do so much, but where do we start?

(photo by Beth)

The necklaces pictured above are handmade by Ugandan women, using rolled, torn strips of magazine. By purchasing these necklaces, we are creating jobs for women in Uganda. It's a win - win situation, right?

Well, here's a chance for you to win!

I am giving away TWO of these necklaces to TWO of my lucky readers.

1 entry awarded for each of the following:
1.Leave a comment letting me know who you are going to tell Lovelyn's story to.
2. Write about the giveaway, or about Lovelyn, on your blog and post the link.
3. Tweet about this giveaway and post the link.
4. Post about this giveaway on Facebook.
5. If you purchase (or have already purchased) a shirt or necklace, leave a comment. ALSO, when you get your shirt, contact Beth, as she is doing a secret project with pictures of us wearing our shirts!

*winner chosen by random.org after 9pm, Monday, September 7.

I'm having a hard time wrapping up this post. My heart is broken, and yet rejoicing. I love Lovelyn's story. It's time for me to stop asking God what I can do to change the world, and start doing what He's showing me.

“Sometimes I would like to ask God why He allows poverty, suffering, and injustice when He could do something about it.”

“Well, why don’t you ask Him?”

“Because I’m afraid He would ask me the same question.” - Anonymous

Happy Birthday Baby Girl.

I love you, Miss V.!

Can't See the Forest For the Trees

Definition: overly concerned with detail; not understanding the whole situation

Explanation: Used when expressing that a person is focusing too much on specific problems and is missing the point

I hope I'm not missing the big picture here. I really hope.

Refreshment

Ah. This weekend has been a much needed breathe of fresh air. I enjoyed dinner and a movie on Friday night with Steph, Beth, Arianne, and Erin, who have all become dear friends in the past few months.

Unfortunately, the ties that bind are not always full of fun and sunshine, but they are full of hope and I am thankful to have Beth and Arianne in my life. When I found out about the miscarriage, I knew I had women I could call on. First my mom, then Beth and Arianne. They, along with many others, have experienced this loss first hand, and know that sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all.

There are many people who have rallied around us during this time and we are so blessed by your friendship.

Yesterday, I spent the day in the pool at my aunt and uncle's house, and enjoyed friendship, pizza, and lots of little kids.

Today, Aaron and I went to lunch and the grocery store. Nothing exciting, but life is getting back to normal, whatever normal is. I'm thankful for this, even if it is hard.

I returned home from the store today to find lots of well wishes on blog posts and in emails from new friends who have come over from Beth's site. I am overwhelmed by the love and friendship. Thank you all so much!

As the Tears Flow...

My thoughts are all over the place. I want to say the right things, but the words are not there. I am overcome with emotion and sorrow at the loss of a precious life, and overjoyed at the miracle of another. Life is a precious thing and not for one moment do I want to take for granted the blessing of life in me.

I think this is a season of quiet for me. And I think I have a lot to learn. Please forgive me while my words are few.

I've never learned anything while I was talking. - Larry King

She's no longer interested in Barney.

I was 10 when my little sister was born. I don't ever remember thinking of her as a baby, she seemed to be an adorable toddler overnight. She had the cutest little voice and her words didn't come out right until she was in Kindergarden. I still love singing with her, but we've come a long way from "Twintle, Twintle, Wittle Tar". We used to watch recorded episodes of Barney and she would jump around with her little purple dinosaur and sing about the raindrops tasting like lemon drops.

Now she's 17 and driving a car (! omg) and going to be a SENIOR in High School and talking about going to college. OhLordIAmSoOld.

Oh! P.S. These here pictures aren't really edited because Photoshop will be the death of me and I give up.

Get to cleaning, woman!

So the day started out just like any other day. Meaning I slept too late, ran around trying to find something to wear that wasn't a.) wrinkled b.) dirty c.) Aaron's, and put my hair in a clippy that was missing a tooth. The past month at work has been very stressful and I have been working about 60 hours a week. It takes everything in me to just get out of bed in the morning. Getting dressed in something that matches is no easy feat. And the hair! Don't get me started on the hair.

Anyhow, on this particularly dreary day, I let the dog outside to go potty while I found something to spray Febreeze on and throw in the dryer to de-wrinkle wear and when I called him in, was shocked at the amount of mud on his little paws. I wanted to go out and investigate the situation, but I wasn't wearing a bra. Or pants. I grabbed the closest thing I could find to wipe his paws. Aaron's boxers. He will never know, so if you tell him, I will deny that it ever happened.

Little Duke Monster ate his breakfast, I continued with my rushed morning routine, and after taking the time to put on proper undergarments and pants, I went outside with him to make sure he was...um, okay to spend the rest of the day inside. As we walked close to the tomato plants I despised planting in the first place (because I hate dirt and bugs and worms), I noticed that not only had my tomato plants been dug up, they had been tossled around the yard.

Please know that I do not condone animal abuse, but seriousy, I wanted to kick Duke right square in the butt. With my shoe. That didn't match my shirt.

Recalling that I was already leaving the house 15 minutes later than usual, and I needed to make my daily Panera stop for their iced tea laced with cocaine, I put Duke in his cage, grabbed my keys, my lunch, my sweater because it's cold in the office, my phone, and my purse, and ran out the door.

Let's recap. Dug up tomato plants in backyard. Muddy paw prints all over kitchen floor. Aaron's boxers, now also covered in mud, laying on laundry room floor. Fourteen shirts I thought about wearing, but didn't wear because they were a.) wrinkled b.) dirty c.) Aaron's thrown about the bedroom. And my dirty undergarments on the floor because even when I don't get up early enough to take a shower, I still like to be clean. THANKYOUVERYMUCH.

When I got to work, I had an email from my realtor that someone wanted to see the house. Today. At 4 pm. I emailed her back and said:

"My house is a disaster. Our only hope of them buying our house is if they like dog hair and dirty dishes"

To which she replied:

"I'm afraid if they don't see it today, they won't want to reschedule"

Then she called. And someone else wants to see the house at 1 pm. Breathe in, breathe out. These people have seen dog hair and dirty dishes right?!

And at that very moment, I remember the muddy floor, clothes strewn bedroom, boxers on the floor, and the kicker of all kickers, embarraser of all embarressers: the pregnancy test on the bathroom counter.

In case you weren't paying attention up to this point, my realtor showed my house twice today. WITH A PREGNANCY TEST ON THE COUNTER.

We will be living in this house for the absolute rest of our lives.

It's My Blog and I'll Talk About It If I Want To

Welcome to my journal, my place for family, faith, humor, life-changing memories. I write about my husband, my dog, my job, things that I like, and things that frustrate me, like the woman I work with who curses in the workplace. I write to inspire and encourage, to make you think and make you laugh.

I've said before that this is not my sounding board for fertility issues, and while I have tried to limit what I say here (with the exception of the past couple weeks), the reality is that my life the past few weeks has been about our fertility journey and working 60 hours a week . It's hard to write about my life but avoid certain topics for fear of seeming conceited, but then I would have nothing to talk about I would be lying to myself and denying myself the support I know ya'll can provide.

So here's the story.

In mid-April, I went in for my annual exam, which has got to be comparable to death by stoning. I discussed with my doctor that Aaron and I have been trying to conceive for going on 6 months, and while I wasn't worried it wouldn't happen, I was a little concerned that for as many ovulation tests I had taken, I had never been able to detect the hormone that indicates ovulation (LH Surge). She suggested a "21 day draw", which would determine the levels of progesterone my body generates or produces or gives off or something. Just 48 hours after my blood test, a nurse called to tell me that my levels were low, and the doctor wanted to start me on Clomid. I said okay, thinking all the while that I was going to research alternatives to this medicine because I don't want to have the side effects that will make my husband want to leave me. I certainly wouldn't get pregnant that way.

Ahem.

Anyhow, that same night when I got home, there was a letter in the mail from my doctor, the results from my test the week before. The letter had mulitple lines available for the office to check, from "Everything is fine" to "PLEASE CALL US BEFORE YOUR UTERUS FALLS OUT" and for the first time ever, I had the "PLEASE CALL US BEFORE YOUR UTERUS FALLS OUT" line checked. My heart instantly sank, and I had nightmares about what could be wrong. This is not the place for me to go into my past (that may actually require multiple posts), but I will just say that had I never expected to see any lines marked, other than "okay" and I certainly hadn't expected to see them after I turned 25. Things like "this" won't happen to "me". Of course!

When I called the next day, the nurse was very sweet in telling me that there had been some abnormal cells found during my visit, and the doctor wanted to see me. As if being violated once a year isn't already enough, I scheduled an appointment, and didn't even have to beg Aaron to come along.

The procedure itself wasn't terrible, although I did squeeze Aaron's hand pretty tight, and my doctor mentioned that I'll be a terriffic candidate for an epidural - that she will be able to administer in my fourth month of pregnancy. I couldn't hide the fact that I am a baby, and I have no pain tolerance.

During the appointment last week, she was able to tell me that my risk for cervical cancer is very low. She was not, however, able to rule out other cervical issues, which may or may not be related to my difficulty conceiving thus far. The test results will be back this Friday or next Monday.

When I said this was not my sounding board, I intended to keep it that way. Unfortunately, or not, life happened, and if I was going to continue posting about the things that matter to me, I couldn't avoid letting you know where I've been!

Look for an uplifting picture post soon!

Back to your regularly scheduled programming...

I do not normally come to this blog to talk about my "trying to conceive" (ttc) issues. I write about them over here though, and if you're ever interested in our progress, you can check it out! I only wanted to bring attention to National Infertility Awareness Week, and I'm glad so many people were able to hear a fraction of my story. I received lots of emails and Facebook messages aside from the comments on my last post, and I just want to thank everyone for your kind, encouraging, loving messages. I am blessed to have you all in my life.

Moving on.

As you may have noticed, Onceuponacline.com has recently undergone a makeover! Beth from I Should Be Folding Laundry and RubyandRoja was lovely to work with, and her vision for my bloggy and twitter makeover was more than I could have imagined.

It was funny, though, how a blog design could make me reflect on the past, and think about the present. Yes, "Once Upon A Cline" is an obvious play on "Once Upon A Time". But as I was thinking about the similarities, I was forced to accept the fact that my life, and my marriage, are not perfect. If you've been around my blogs (here and here) for a few years, you may recall a post about my desire for perfection (of course, I would like to link it, and I can't find it). But the general idea of that post went like this:

As I sat in the Student Union with my Bible Study leader Laura, I told her I just couldn't do it all anymore. I was a full-time student with a part-time job, I sang on the worship team for our weekly Campus Crusade meeting, I lead worship for a Friday afternoon gathering of students, I sang on the worship team at my church, I had 3 different rehearsal nights a week, I was committed to a Bible Study, and two different dicipleships - the one I was being discipled in, and the one where I was discipling. I had a boyfriend and a roommate and a sorority, and I just couldn't do it anymore. And as I cried over my Iced Tea, I told her I never thought I would get there.

"Get where, Natalie?" she asked me gently.

"I don't think I'll ever be perfect".

And with tears streaming down both our faces, she grabbed my hands from across the table, and kindly assured me that I would, in fact, NEVER attain perfection. If I was perfect, I wouldn't need a Saviour.

Five years after that conversation, my manager at work took me out for lunch for my employee evaluation and told me I was doing so well, and that she was really proud of me for how much I'd learned in the past few months. Her only suggestion was to be more willing to accept my mistakes, and to learn from them. She said I was too hard on myself, and I needed to let people help me fix my mistakes, and I needed to be teachable. And right there in the middle of that restaurant, the tears streamed down my face again. She looked shocked, and apologized if she'd said something that upset me, and I told her the story above. And I realized that I hadn't accepted what Laura told me back in 2003; I was still striving for perfection, for that unattainable goal.

Today, I am content with being less than perfect. My marriage is far from perfect. I say things to my husband that I am ashamed of, I yell. There is laundry to be done. My car is messy, and my work desk looks like a tornado blew through the building. I can't cook, I'm a terrible housekeeper, I gossip. I don't do my hair most days, I don't spend time picking out my clothes, and you're lucky to catch me with matching socks.

So my "Once Upon A Cline" is not a story of a perfect fairy tale, where the prince rides in to rescue the princess, kissing her to awaken her from a deep sleep, whilst she dreamed of mice and carriages, and glass slippers. I think I got that wrong. Anyhow...

My "Once Upon A Cline" is my far-from-perfect tale, pool guy rides in to save HR Manager, shaking her to awaken from a deep sleep in which she talks of non-sense and occasionally snores, whilst dreaming of flip-flops, carry out pizza, and someone to mop the floor. A step-sister, if you will. And usually, the princess in this story is drooling on the pillow.

And it's the Fairy Tale I've been waiting for all along.

Genuine

Seriously, if you didn't love MckMama before this post, then you should now. There are few things in life I appreciate more than honesty. You cannot fool God. He already knows what you are thinking, so you might as well just tell him. Are you pissed? Might as well tell Him, because He's the one who gave you the ability to have feelings and emotions. I appreciate her honesty, her willingness to just be real with us.

I had a Spiritual Leader in college who was real. I mean, I had a lot of real friends and Bible Study gals, but this one woman, she was real real. She was engaged to be married, and just days before her wedding, her fiance called it off. She was hurt. And pissed. And she had every right to be. I know full well that her being "pissed" did not make her less of a Christian, less of a mentor, less of a believer. The fact that she was willing to share these feelings, but still stand on the Word of God, made me admire here even more. Because she didn't pretend everything was good, she didn't pretend that she never questioned God, never wondered what the hell He was thinking or doing in her life. I loved it. I loved her for it. I respected her for being real with me.

Turns out, God was shaping her. And her ex-fiance. Changing their hearts and their lives.

They got married a couple years later, and asked me to sing in their wedding. They shared their second first kiss in front of us all. God had known what He was thinking all along.

But is it clear yet that what I learned from her wasn't how to answer questions "the right way", or to put on a smile and bear with it? Nor did she turn her back on God because she was mad. There is a place, a sacred ground, where it is possible to still Believe in God, to still trust that His Word is true, that HE is true, and still be upset, be mad at God, be pissed if you want.

Because HE is true, and His Word never changes. HE never changes. He is the same, yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

(stepping off of pedestal)

We love MckMama, we love Stellan. Get better soon, baby.

And in case you are here reading today, to the woman who showed me how to love God and still be human, I love you too. I hope you know this.

Make a Difference

Well, here we are. It's been an astonishing 9 days since my last update, and that was just pictures, so it doesn't count. I would love to tell you that I haven't been able to write because I've been traveling the world, visiting orphanages and feeding children, or volunteering my time with the Peace Corp, making the world a better place. But really? I've been stuck in a rut, throwing myself a pity party. FOR NO APPARENT REASON.

I have cried a ton this week. Mostly about real-life things, the stress that comes with work and marriage and life in general. But also, I've cried over little things like OnStar commercials, and the way my dog tilts his head to the side when I leave for work. You know the look.

I bought stock in pregnancy tests a box of pregnancy tests, just to be sure, and they were all negative. My hormonal calculator shows that I should either be pregnant or, you know, the alternative. And so far, neither of those situations have appeared. Maybe I have a wicked case of PMS, or just the winter blahs, but whatever they are, I am getting tired of them. Last night I was so emotionally exhausted, I was sure I would fall right to sleep. And I did, until 1:00 am, and then I was wide awake until 3:00. Laying in bed, looking at the ceiling, asking myself why I'm not doing something with my life that matters.

I want to do something that matters. When did this get away from me? I have always felt like I wanted to make the world a better place, and until recently I have felt like I was doing something to help my fellow man. But now, I feel like I just...exist. I go to work, I do my job, answer the phone, get the lunch, make the copies, send the faxes, process the insurance, call the customer, get back in the car, drive home, make dinner, do laundry, take the dog out, take a bath, take the dog out again, try to find time to spend with my husband, finally lay down to go to sleep, and think "where did this day just go?". Breathe in, breathe out, repeat.

But then I think, I suppose that's okay for a certain time in your life, right? To just go about your business and not worry about finding time to volunteer here or coordinate this clothing drive. I need time to refresh, to remind myself WHY helping other people feels so good.

For this period, maybe the person who's life I'm supposed to be making a difference in-is my own.