What if • day 20

I've always admired people who run off to a foreign country to do selfless acts. You know the type, they leave their friends, family and job to do the work of God. How do they do it? How do they leave with no income or no one to feed their dog? How do they tell their boss they will be gone for three months teaching preschoolers about the Bible? Digging plumbing in a remote part of Ethiopia?

I admire their hope. I admire their constant source of belief that God will provide. I've always kept God and my finances separate but I'm learning that is not his will. I've always known this but for some reason it's like I think he hasn't noticed.

I pray to him for guidance and for hope and for healing. I pray for reassurance in my plans that he has for me. I even pray to him for signs and for words. I pray to him when things are not going my way and prayers of gratefulness when they do. I never pray to him about finances. I never ask that he guide me as to what I should give to Him or how we should financially run our household.

I read scripture on this early this morning before work. I read: Honor the Lord with your wealth and with the first-fruits of all your produce; then your barns will be filled with plenty, and your vats will be bursting with wine. Proverbs 3:9-10 I know these words and I know he will provide. I need to do a better job of putting him in charge of all of me. Not just my actions but my prayers and guidance of my actions.

What if we prayed to him for everything not just our troubles? What if he was our banker?

What if • day 19

I think everyone has had the thought about the whole scenario of 'what if I/you die tomorrow?' Not the typical view where your sorry you didn't tell someone you loved them or that you were sorry you did something to them but a different view like when you were pretty horrible to someone and 'what if' that someone died. I remember going to someone's funeral in high school and looking around at all the people who judged them and talked badly about them before their passing. Yet, there they were, all in line to hug the family. I think people have good intentions but are often quick to have opinions and then squash them because it's Christmas, "such and such's" birthday party, or because someone died.

I feel like we should be the same all the time. Not different because there is an event, special occasion or because someone is really sick. We should love one another all of the time.

I've always thought that animals were a fine example of this. They don't hate. They don't judge. They don't choose sides or talk out of both sides of their mouths. They simply, love unconditionally.... All of the time.

What if we treated everyone as if it were their last day? Would we treat them differently if we knew? Why? Why wouldn't we love the same every day?

What if • day 18

I remember the conversations that whit and I had during that month after the last failed cycle. There was no doubt that both of us wanted to do another cycle but so many 'what ifs' filled our every days. There were the talks about money, talks about when would be best(ha, like we had choices) and the talks about what if it failed? We had faced so much rejection. Neither of us were sure about our next steps.

Girls I was close to were all getting pregnant. Girls I spent a lot of time with... All having baby showers and talking babies. At first I stopped attending those and then everything all together. I have a terrible back so using it more as a crutch, was easy. There were friends that were also going through infertility that were also getting pregnant. Don't get me wrong, every pregnancy brought a tremendous amount of joy to me- but it also brought a guilty sense of empty.

We went to Dr. Saleh in October of 2010. Keep in mind I had been with my Austin doc for over 3 years. His office is located in an older hospital. No spa like feel, no thirty something nurses on hand or five doctors buzzing around. There was no granola in large jars or mounds of fruit for the taking. This place was basic. I didn't question any of it. I was told he was good and that's why we were there. We wanted a baby and financially this might have been our last shot. He told us why we would never get pregnant with an IUI and how our time, money and hopes had been wasted. We were crushed, taken back but at the same time thrilled that he said he could make this happen. He wasn't overly cocky or sure of himself like we were used to- he was genuine, hopeful and glad we were giving him the opportunity to be our doctor.

He introduced us to Heather, his nurse. I started crying with failure in my head. I spilled out about a dozen questions and she calmly said "he's really good- you have a great shot here." I looked at the walls and walls of pictures of singletons, twins and triplets. I asked if she had kids. She told me her story- it gave me even more hope. I was on a mission but was so beat down that I couldn't be one emotion without thinking of the opposite.

We were going to do IVF. This was scary to me because this was the big guns. This was the last straw. If this failed there was nothing "bigger" that we could do. I told God to give me a sign that we were supposed to quit. I told him that if we didn't get a baby, I would be okay- that it was his will. I told whit that I would be okay. Could they tell I was lying?

I keep thinking that if I had not gone to Austin in the first place I might not have ended up with Saleh. In the beginning it was all about the spa like office and how everyone talked about this Austin doc. Then it came down to the end result and how long you can be strung along before saying enough.

What if we judged a book by its cover?

Pause

I wanted to take a moment to pause from the 'what if's' and state some facts that might help some readers understand where I'm coming from in posting and sharing. This place is meant for me to share my story on how I got to where I am in infertility. Sometimes, I venture off topic to share more about me and my life. Sometimes the topics may be less comfortable, even a dose of the truth. However, I can assure you that I have left out many hurtful details that were big pieces of my puzzle- to salvage feelings.

I know as a Christian I am to forgive 7x70 times. I will continue to do this- even while under fire. However, for me this is part of the forgiving process- even for the hurts that happened 20 years ago. A place if you will, to get my story on "paper" while it plays out.

I've taken responsibility for the hurts I've caused my whole life and never dreamed that giving a vague stage set of my life and how others shaped it- would cause so much turmoil. I spoke with a friend today and she said, "I can assure you that you didn't say anything that should upset someone so much... Unless they feel guilty, and they're the only ones who can make peace with that."

There is a part of me that thinks it's funny to have a blog for close to two years that no one knew existed then you lay out a little dirt and your number of readers climb by the hundreds. Sad, but true.

Everyone has a story and choosing to share it is our own choice. I don't think telling my story can change the events or the people in my life. I do think it can empower more forgiving hearts, more listening and more understanding. I read on a blog I follow where he said, " sure I feel judged sometimes, but I know ultimately where my final judgement will come from. "Human" judgements are invalid, they are merely opinions, which I welcome..." How true is that?!

So as I venture on telling my story, I will continue to tell my story and I will continue to leave out the painful details to spare others the pain- even though their actions caused me pain. I will continue to forgive and rejoice in what I have been given in trade of these painful moments. I hope that those that are offended will choose to stop reading. I'm done feeling attacked and glad for a place to tell my story. After all, it is mine. Back to the 'what ifs' soon.

What if • day 17

I started writing this to share my feelings, not paint a picturesque view of what you want to hear. I think sometimes people have an idea of what your story is when in fact, they're misinformed. I've always been cautious of assuming that I know the day to day challenges someone faces.

I think when you have a blended family and not a nuclear family, the lines bleed on the way each relationship evolves. I've recently been criticized for sharing my story and it's unfortunate. Doesn't hurt my feelings, just confirms the quality of our relationship.

I won't stop being honest as this is my blog. I won't stop telling it the way I see it because it might hurt your feelings. The whole point of this space is to tell my story; You must want to hear it or you wouldn't be reading.

What if we weren't honest with ourselves? What if we got lost on what we wanted our stories to be? What if we passed judgement on others when we really had no idea what their story was?

What if • day 16

I remember the way I felt those days after our last failed cycle. Sad. Confused. Free from the encouraging emails, texts and calls. Empty that the train ride I had been in line to ride for a month, was over.

My best friend Mindy was getting married and I wasn't going to miss one second of the fun. So, baby or not, I was ready to celebrate! I visited with old friends and while I was sad- Moo's joy far outweighed the weight in my heart. I had regrettably missed her bachelorette party because of a pivotal point in our last cycle and I wanted to make up for moments missed.

Placing the focus on a sure thing was easy. I loved my hot pink dress, her incredibly sentimental weekend and her precious and dear family(new and old). The Brits were here and for this brief moment, I never even thought about the pain that had its hands wrapped around me.

The weekend seemed long but was the escape I needed. Except for running into people who shared our infertility and wanted to talk shop, I really had no emotional moments. Those stupid drugs had made me an emotional mess.

One of Mindy's high school friends and I had a blast. It was fun to hang out and share our new "adult" lives with one another. We also spent a great deal of time with all of the British friends that came across the pond to celebrate Mindy & sweet Simon.

That weekend was a breath of fresh air and just what we needed before making our next big move.

What if there was no time to re-group? What if we made pivotal decisions without clearing our heads? Don't you think everyone needs a weekend to just blow off everything and get clear?

No judging on these pics... I told you I had fun and drank.. Ok maybe a little too much :) I deserved it...

What if • day 15

What if we never saw mirror images of ourselves? What if God put so many on this earth and that was it? What if we were robbed of the joy of kids?

We were robbed for 5 long years. we decided to do something about it. We were full of hope. Full of what we thought would be a one time deal and BoOM prego! But this was not the case.

We were referred to "an awesome, award winning, best in his field" ....jerk.
We drove 90 miles back and forth and cleaned out our savings in hopes of a baby. Some weeks we would have to be 90 miles away by 7 for blood draws, then appointment then drive back for work and do the same the next day. Each week was harder, more draining, more promising, more... Empty. Our hearts were full and not of love. Full of the darkest, greedy kind of pain you could ever imagine.

I became dark. Whit became this cheerleader who forgot her chants. He couldn't convince me anymore that it would happen. We had undergone surgery and were waiting on the what if. Time was running out and all sticks said no.

Doctor jerk suggested we do an IUI, told me I was a perfect candidate and it would only take once. I was convinced it wouldn't and asked about ivf. He blew me off. I know now, that was his game.. Why sell you the big gun right at first when we would keep buying on hope alone? So we did the IUI. As the eggs grew I felt really uncomfortable and thought I might ovulate. On the Friday before the cycle failed, we went for an appt. The eggs still were not ready but so close. I looked at whit and told him, " when I do tonight's injection, I'll ovulate :( " The doctor disagreed.

I'm certain I ovulated around 11pm that night. The next day we went for our scheduled appointment and sure enough. I ovulated and the cycle was over. All the injections, all the hope, all the money, all the calls to cheer us on.....Gone. The poor doctor that was on call had the joy of sharing the news. She didn't even have to, I could read the sonograms by this point. I was devastated. We had to drive home and spend the day with our friends. We had planned at day at the pool to celebrate our cycle almost being complete. It was complete alright....Completely wasted. My friends and family were broken for us. Whit couldn't muster a cheer. I couldn't look him in the eyes. Failure was written all over my face.

To make matters worse Dr. Jerk didn't call us until I brewed over it for four days and blasted his nurse with an email. He called it a snafu. Really? He barely apologized but told me that if I didn't have confidence in him he didn't need me as a patient. He made me want his "expertise" even more!! What?!

We made plans to sit out one month and return for another IUI this time with a drug that kept me from ovulating. Why didn't I take this before??? We did another one and no dice. We decided to go for a third. At the next appt we discovered I had cysts and could not continue the meds but would have to sit out another cycle and could do it then. I emailed my nurse some questions when we left. Instead of forwarding her questions from my email to a fellow nurse she sent to me and said what a pain I was and how I had just left and how I could have asked him these questions while I was there. Really??? I had been with their office for two years. I had become close to her. I had practically paid her salary!!!!!!!!!! This rocked me. I emailed her back and told her I was sorry to bother her. She poured out an apology email and a call. I was so lost on the fertility band wagon that I was spinning.

I met a couple we knew for dinner about two weeks later. They mentioned their doctor and how successful they were - they had twins on try three. She said the appt is like $60 what do you have to lose?

What if we didn't put ourselves out there?? What of we didn't go with our gut?

What if • day 14

I used to read magazines. When I got home from work I would go work out, come home, put on my pajamas, start dinner and read magazines. Mostly Martha Stewart or Rachel Ray. I also loved cooking light and Blueprint. I was bad about cleaning up after dinner getting in the bath tub and reading more magazines. When I went into labor I asked whit to tell one of our friends that was bringing me a bag to bring MAGS!! He brought me three. This was in May and yesterday... I found them. I had not even opened them.

Earlier this week I bought a new leather bound prayer book. It's called prayers with a purpose. I kept thinking how nice it would be to sit in a restaurant and not talk to anyone and just read quietly. I thought how I needed to look less at scheduling time and reserve time for myself, even if it was just 15 minutes to be quiet.

I'm realizing now that it wasn't about loving magazines, movies, working out or even baths- but loving that time alone, lost in thought. Lately, there has been very little time for that important aspect in my life. We went from hours of alone time, to none.

I asked my friend Kristin when I would feel normal again or when I would feel not so torn when I did get out for a movie- she quickly informed me that the feeling would never go back to before but that I would get used to the new normal. I felt off. Like something was missing in my routine. Like we were on a hamster wheel of a routine, with no breaks. I was tired until they were about 5 months but lately I've felt strong again and for the first time in over 8 months I spent the entire night reading magazines!!!! Im energized! It's funny how a small thing missing from your routine, affects you in such a big way.

I think when we take time to ourselves we are better parents, better friends and better spouses. Gianna preferred I keep the magazine reading to the allotted 15. She had bigger plans for us.

What if we were on hamster wheels? What if we never took time for ourselves? What if we gave ourselves one 30 minute away break away from the house alone to just be?

What if • day 13

I'm not always thrilled with our health care system or insurance but I'm thankful that we have the freedom and the choices that as Americans, we are given.

I know that when our three were born at 29 weeks there was no other place I would have rather been other than the in the US. I felt safe knowing that they would save my babies. They would do everything in their power to save them.

I also felt like the insurance world was/is a hectic place. There have been piles of bills and some I have no idea if they are even correct- BUT they have provided for us. I'm thankful that as Americans we are given opportunities. Opportunities to better our lives.

On the flip side, I don't always agree with what they cover and what they don't. I think it's silly to only cover $500 of a $1900 RSV vaccine that prevents a hospital stay that could cost $40,000. But it all goes back to what we do have.

What if our hospital was a dirt floor, dirty windows, unsterilized and not operating off of an open-ended money solution? What if there was no health care system at all and whatever you needed/would receive was based on what you had in your bank account period?

What if • day 12

I grew up in a Baptist church. It was a large church with a huge membership. An easy place to feel lost, not very connected. I did the usual Sunday morning with the family, occasional youth group Wednesday night and every once in a while, camp. But nothing was unusual, never a spark. One year after college a friend took me to UBC. A college based church with mostly young members. I soaked it in, feeling odd but def a presence of God. I always felt spiritually fulfilled when leaving. I always wanted to get more involved but never felt the appropriate age. I always felt about 10 years past the general age. I felt a spiritual connect and a membership disconnect. Kyle Lake was the pastor. I never met him, but enjoyed his sermons. He was tragically electrocuted during a baptism. I didn't go for about a year, went back to my church that I had gone to growing up. Still the same stuffy feeling.

When whit and I couldn't get pregnant I was thirsty for spiritual understanding. Something that would soothe the hurt I couldn't fix. Whit worked most Sundays and I would go to church alone. The church I grew up in did not do anything for me. In fact, it made me sad and it made me feel like a failure. It brought me face to face with families having babies and was a complete slap in the face with what I wanted. I knew that this was not the place for me.

I went back to UBC and there I could hide. Sure, I looked older and wasn't surrounded by 10 of my closest friends, but it was a place of peace for me. No reminders of what I wasn't or what I couldn't do/have. The music was loud. Almost loud enough to drown the pain. Some mornings it actually felt like God was taking the pain from the palms of my hands. The new pastor spoke almost- to me. I felt like he had read up on me and preached to me. Very few sermons left me feeling unfulfilled and if they did, the music filled in. God knew where I needed to be.

I started emailing the pastor and asking for prayers. I had never asked anyone other than friends or family to pray for us. I secretly cried in the dark during the worship music. Begging God to either give us a baby or to fill the hurt that I couldn't change. I definitely pulled away from my family but was extremely close to God.

Surgeries and doctor visits, nothing. Fertility drugs, procedures, nothing. There had to be a miracle. Friends promised it would be my turn next time. I was literally on my hands and knees begging him to give us a baby.

What If there was no hope? What if there was no higher power? What if there were no miracles?

What if • day 11

My family has always lived within a three block radius from one another. I grew up being able to walk to mema pats. In college I often thought I would eventually buy in the same neighborhood. We couldn't afford our first home to be in that neighborhood and bought the house I grew up in from my dad. It was about 5-10 miles away. I loved that house. We loved the neighborhood too but felt like it was declining-fast. One night we were eating dinner with my aunt and uncle and mentioned that we would like to move into their neighborhood( same one as mema pat and my dad). They mentioned that they owned the house next door and that they would sell to us if we wanted. Weeks later, we had sold our house and had a moving date.

We had been trying to get pregnant for close to two years at this point. I was still very up-beat and felt like it could happen any day. I pictured us playing in the backyard with a new baby and I knew which one would be his/her nursery.

Later that year my aunt(who is like my mom) started taking her father back and forth to Houston for chemo. He had an aggressive form of cancer. I took her and my uncle dinner about 3-4 times a week. I prayed daily for them. Her father was the kind of man that EVERYONE loved. Everyone knew him, everyone respected the man he was and at one time or another had been on the receiving end of a huge Greek kiss! He was, in one word, the best.

My aunt kk was beat. She drove back and forth from their apartment in Houston. It was a long, hard, trying time. There was very little good news and Karen carried a lot of the burden. All the while, carrying her own burdens, daily family tasks... An mentoring me.

She always had an ear for me. Always willing to listen and talk me off "the tower". We became close when I came home from college. Maybe in my early twenties. She and my uncle always showed an interest in my life... And then in whits too.

I know that my aunt couldn't have carried my failed cycles at the same time... Maybe that was why God set the stage for us to move. He hadn't set into motion a fertility plan yet. He knew we needed to be there together- just over the fence. He knew we needed the support of being neighbors.

What if we wrote our own timeline? What it I didn't have an aunt and uncle that loved me enough to shape my life?

What if • day 10

I've always loved family traditions. Whether it's Christmas, birthdays, Halloween or even Valentine's Day- i love them. Whits birthday is on Valentine's. I love it every year. I love a heart shaped cake, pink and red decorations...All the CHOCOLATE that is around, friends, family and most of all I love all of the love that surrounds his birth.

Everyone has their own traditions. Some are passed down and some are ones we create in our own homes. They are added to, carried on and some might be another's that we envy, that we pick up and carry on as our own.

I remember in December I was listening to k-love and they talked about how Jesus only received three gifts for his birthday- and how they knew a family that had made a huge impression on their kids by explaining these gifts and creating the same tradition in their home. We quickly adapted this as our own and plan to continue this with the kids forever.

Family traditions are important. Its a way of continuing and showing our heritage. It's a way of embracing holidays with a plan. From the time I was in the 1st grade I remember getting my valentine first thing in the morning from mema pat. It was always at the breakfast table. I remember when someone was sick, we made them food. I remember on Saturday nights mema pat and papa joe would always go out to eat with the Guthrie's. I remember spinach casserole being my favorite at Thanksgiving and how I always made the mashed potatoes and relish tray( had to have those baby corns). These were all traditions and always the way it would be.

What if we did new things every year? What if there were no traditions?? Nothing to look forward to? No casserole that you searched for at the thanksgiving table?

What if • day 9

I wasn't really inspired to write today. Was sort of all out of what ifs. That was until Gianna fell asleep on me in such a rare moment/time/place.

My schedule is very very predictable. My kids have been on a strict schedule since the day they were born. They eat at 8,12,4 & 8 and they all go down to sleep within 1-2 hours after every feed. It's kind of funny, but you can set your clock to it. Some people think its crazy and ask us how. I think if we had one baby we would be "normal" and let our kids wake and eat whenever but because we are out-numbered we have to wake them to feed so they are not taking turns all day.

So, about three or four weeks ago Gianna had decided she would no longer sleep after the 4 o'clock feed. She is fun and playful until about 7 and at that point you have to walk around with her or pull out some entertainment gadget every five minutes. If you leave her to cry it out, I assure you, she will win. By 8 she is ready to eat and absolutely impossible by 8:30. She does go to bed at this point for the night, but those 3 hours before(prime making dinner, doing laundry doing anything time!!) she is a bear.

Today was pretty much like any other day. They were on schedule. At the 4pm feed they ate and played. GG did her normal thing and came to play in my bed after I put the boys down. However today, she rolled off my legs and on to my down comforter. She stared at the paisleys and moved her hands along the fabric. Less than two minutes later, she was completely out. Gianna is a fairly light sleeper and has a hard time going to sleep so this was totally crazy. I couldn't help but to be completely surprised. I was prepared for the marathon. I had already made dinner in prep of not being able to do a single thing but entertain her! What? She was asleep?

Made me think of that pat green song that says " wouldn't life be awfully boring if the good times were all that we had" sometimes being a mom is hard and sometimes seasons like teething or irregular sleep are tough- but as mema pat says, " This too shall pass."

Life would be boring if all of our kids were alike. Life would be boring if we knew everyday what it held. GG probably will be her old bad self tomorrow at 7 but today she sure was a sweet surprise. Sure was a warm cuddly change.

What if the good times were all that we had? What if everything was the same day after day?

What if • day 8

I think everyone has had that moment of "to make up or to not" in our lives. You know, the moment when you can forgive, forget and move on. A lot is wagered on what they did to us or what we did to them but more importantly, can we love one another again. Sadly, sometimes the answer is no. But when a friendship is magnetic and unmatchable, the forgiving and more importantly, the forgetting is as easy as the friendship.

Whit had worked for JH for about 6,7 years when the owners daughter moved to town. I liked her. We sort of had this instant same-kind-of-funny. She began dating one of whit's co-workers. He wasn't a great guy. A jerk, to be honest. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to shout it! But I couldn't. We became friends and did things as a couple even though we knew his past and wanted to protect her. There were moments when they would break up and we would take her side but she would go back and it would make me want her to see she was so much better. He wasn't worthy of her.

Eventually we couldn't stand aside and watch the car wreck. Whit left his job and took another. I was sad and so was he. We had even planned to attend their wedding in Mexico. The wedding happened and we did not go.

I really missed her. Whit missed the job and couldn't find a real fit anywhere else. Fast forward about 2 years and they divorced. He left JH and whit went back. It was like a wave of panic, fear and relief washed over me at once. She asked me to lunch one day. She cried, I cried and she told me how wrong it had all gone. I apologized and told her how I wanted to drag her from him kicking and screaming but I knew it had to run its coarse.

This was about three years ago. Whit loves his job and has received two promotions since returning. My friendship with her is beautiful and funny. Love that girl. Life could have drastically been different.

What if we didn't have forgiving hearts?

What if • day 7

Our careers shape our lives. I've always felt like if you are not happy at work- you should find something that makes you happy. Easier said than done and in this economy not the smartest advice.

However, I think that when people love what they do it really shows. Not necessarily who they do it with- but what they do. Sometimes I think you get one or the other and both is not likely.

I worked for a dental office, building their hygiene department before I took my job that I have now. I loved those people. I loved the dentist. I loved the patients. It was a fun, light-hearted job. It was a happy place. I had unique relationships with everyone. We often brought our lunches and I can remember those times as being the best. No stress.
After a few years I came to work for an animal rescue in marketing. This was my major and after all those years- I was finally going to put all those classes to work. We save close to 1,000 animals from euthanasia each year. I'm passionate about my work. I have been with the rescue now for eight years. I love the work. Yes, very high energy and very stressful. But, I love looking at all the miracles I have made happen. I love the fact that the money I bring in the doors directly relates the number of lives saved. I love working for a non-profit and making a difference in the community in which I live. Rewarding is such a small word compared to how it feels in my heart.

What if there were no non-profits making good things happen in their community? What if I wasn't a part of one of the largest no-kill animal rescues?

What if • day 6

This post is simple. What if I had not married this sweet man that loves me and those triplets to his core? What if God had not put us in each others story? What if my timeline had been broken here.

What if my story stopped here and took a different route?

What about yours?

What if • day 5

I've often thought about all the jobs I've had and how much they have shaped who I am. In high school I worked in a photo shop. I loved photography and loved refurbishing customers old photos. The guy I worked for was charming, funny but a complete womanizer. He often made awkward and suggestive comments and I was just 16. I took a new job working for a couple who owned men's clothing store. They also had a new baby. I would often work at the clothing store after school and then babysit at night and on weekends. I loved them. They treated me like family and taught me a ton. They later opened a small deli that served soups, salads and sandwiches. This is where I had my first taste and love of catering and cooking.

Later, I worked for a local floral shop. The owner had a dry sense of humor, an incredibly amazing talent and very little people skills. But, she was simple and basic is the best ways. She didn't act snobby or big-headed about owning her own business. In fact, there were lots of people who owed her money. Lots of people who had lots of money. It was funny to see who didn't pay their bills. Most of the time it was folks with a lot of money. Being 17, this was pretty shocking to me. I learned a lot in that shop. I learned a lot about weddings, bridezillas and mostly the folks who didn't pay their bills.

I learned a ton with each job and later used those skills to open my own deli and catering business. I loved mixing my talent for cooking with my people skills. I loved planning menus as well as the day to day at the deli. I also learned the hardships of owning your own business. I lost a lot of my identity along the way. Meaning I was quick to please others and leave my business thoughts on the back burner. A lot of that came from being 23 and owning my own business. Everyone had their idea of what beck's deli should entail.

I finally left becks behind after about five years. I love what I learned and most of all the customers I still do business with. I can't help but to smile when I think of how all of these people and opportunities shaped my life.

What if I had never worked for those people? What if I had not been given those opportunities? What if my life was shaped differently?