I wrote this a couple of years ago, and my feelings haven't entirely changed, so I thought I would recycle it. The numbers are from 2015, so do the math to get the actual numbers.


Mother's Day 2015.

I was supposed to conduct, as I was the only member of the Relief Society presidency who would be there, so all morning I was thinking of a way to wish everyone a Happy Mother's Day without offending those who weren't mothers.

It really got me thinking. I have read so many stories about women who get so incredibly offended on Mother's Day because they don't have children yet, or they have had trouble getting pregnant, or carrying children, or for whatever reason. As I thought about it though, people would choose to be offended whether I said something or not.

So, I got up and wished everyone a happy Mother's Day. As I further sat through church, I watched the two babies that were in Relief Society with their moms. I just sat and stared at them and thought how wonderful it would be to be a mom.

Was I jealous? Absolutely! Was I angry? Not one bit.

The sacrament talks were given by a darling Samoan family. As I listened to the mom and dad speak, I couldn't help but think, "How could anyone possibly hate Mother's Day?"

A: We all have mothers!
B: We have all been influenced by mothers.
C: Hating Mother's Day because you aren't a mother, is like hating someone on their birthday because it's not your birthday. (Okay, bad analogy, but I couldn't think of a real good one!)

I think getting offended or hating Mother's Day is a totally selfish act. Am I saying that you can't be a little sad on that day? Not at all. But to come right out and say I hate Mother's Day, or I'm not celebrating Mother's Day is completely selfish.

Now, what do I really know about this topic?

Am I a mother? No.

Have I experienced the heartache of trying and not being able to conceive children? No.

Have I experienced miscarriages, or the loss of a child? No.

So what do I know, right?

Well, let me tell you about my situation. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (aka, LDS, or Mormon), and I live in Utah. I have been married for nearly NINE years, and I have ZERO children. If you know the typical Mormon stereotypes, you'd think I would have been kicked out of Utah seven years ago. For whatever reason we put off having children. There have been so many times during the past nine years that I've been sad, angry, and frustrated that it's never been my turn, and that EVERY OTHER WOMAN I SEE IS PREGNANT. (I do live in Utah.)

So, you could say that it was our choice that I haven't had children, but at this point in my life, it's not entirely my choice anymore. I have been 'sick' for the past 2 years. There is no possible way that my body could physically bear a child.

You think it doesn't kill me to think that this is something that could have been avoided had we had children earlier?

And then I think that even if I had children, would I be able to properly care for them? I mean, I can't bend over and pick things off the ground, I can't dress my self, I can barely lift my purse, so what makes me think I'd be able to pick up my crying child?

So, therefore, I am not a mother. I have not experienced not being able to conceive, or miscarriage, but I still CAN NOT HAVE CHILDREN. I'm not trying to be insensitive to those of you in those situations, I'm just pointing out that even though my situation is different than yours, the longing for a child is the same.

Okay, so now for the point of this. Again, I sat there thinking, "How could anyone get offended or upset on Mother's Day?" Yes, it can be a very difficult time and day, but if you choose to get offended about something like that, then you need to step back and take another look at your life. You are a woman. You are a mother. Maybe not now, but someday. Maybe not to your own children, but to nieces, nephews, cousins, neighbors, etc.

The sister who spoke gave a great example of her older sister who hasn't had the opportunity to have children of her own, but who still has cared for her siblings, and her siblings children like they were her own. I just think if I never have kids of my own, I'm still gonna be way cooler than my niece's and nephew's moms. I'll be the one that spoils them rotten, takes them to the park, on picnics, gives them their first fake ID. And, let's face it, kids think their aunts are way cooler than their own moms. So I've got that advantage.

I am not perfect. My close friends know that I often complain or get sad that I have no children. Some days are harder than others, but surprisingly Mother's Day wasn't one of them.

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As my health has changed since I wrote this, I still don't know whether I could physically bear a child, but I have absolutely no objection to adopting. It's just one of those things that I can't decide on alone.

I didn't actually go to church this last Sunday. Not because I hate Mother's Day, or anything like that, the issue and anger that I currently have are not something I'm ready to discuss at this time, but I'm still grateful for mothers. And think it's dumb when people hate Mother's Day.

Plus, it's probably a good thing I don't have kids just yet, because I would put all you terrible mothers to shame.

...an update!

I know, it's been so long, you probably figured I was healed of all my Scleroderma...wrong! I have had many MANY thoughts over the last almost year, but have just not written stuff down. I will try to do better though, because before you know it, an entire year will slip by.

And here we are! Trying to decide where to start....

Here goes...

So I think the last real update I had just started going to physical therapy. What a joke. I know I need to do a lot of the stretches on my own, but literally, my appointments were about 5 minutes. I could have googled stretches on the internet, and not had to pay hundreds of dollars. (Actually I don't think they charged me for some of the appointments, but still!)

The stretches kill me, and I have a terrible attitude about them (even still). I just don't feel like they are very effective, and maybe part of it is just me wishing to see results within the first couple of days, but I don't. It just gets frustrating, and then I quit doing it. No wonder I'm not any better off than where I was a year ago!

One thing the PT did mention was to get a stationary bike. I figure that's something I can do with little exertion, but still get some exercise in. Unfortunately, I have a hard time getting onto the bike we ordered, so Greg has to help me.I was kind of hoping for something that I could do if I were home alone and had nothing better to do. Oh well. Such is life I suppose.


I felt all sorts of motivation a couple of weeks ago, so I rode my bike one day, and walked for 20 minutes the next. It killed me for the rest of the week. I'm telling you, it's a struggle between, should I exercise and feel like crap, or not exercise and feel like crap. Let's me honest, the latter wins 99% of the time.

I really need to do it, I know! I just need to. Maybe this summer will be the start of something new...After May is over of course. Oh, and then there's that week in June....kidding, but that's basically my mindset.

If I did have my strength and energy and flexibility back, it would help in so many ways. For one, I wouldn't have little 18-month olds knock me over. Funny story. My good friend Melanie WAS (she has since moved...jerk!) in nursery, and they needed someone to sub. I volunteered, so I headed down to hang out with her and the kids. There was one girl who wanted me to pick her up. so I tried. I was able to lift her to stand on the table so I could adjust, well, when I picked her up, I lost my balance, and basically slid down the wall, resulting in no injury to her, but some minor flesh wounds to myself. It was kind of funny though, when I was on the ground, the little girl was perfectly on my chest just looking down at me. Embarrassing? a little, considering there were 2 additional people in the room, but mostly frustrating. Let's just say I didn't volunteer again.


I stopped at the hospital (ironically) to pick up some medicine, and I forgot I had my work keys in my lap. When I got out of the car, they fell to the ground. I was all by myself, and I can't bend over and pick things up. So, I did what I could. I used one foot to balance the keys on my other foot, opened my car door, lifted my foot with the keys and kicked them in. I am a genius. Just wish I didn't have to be!

I also wouldn't have any issues applying for this teller position at a financial institution down in California (Yes, I looked!)

Luckily, I've been at my job long enough that if it comes to stooping, kneeling, crouching, or crawling, I just boss my newbie co-workers, and make them do it.

Moral of the story: How do I stay motivated to work on something that I feel no progression being made? Any thoughts, tips, suggestions? Any want to come be my personal trainer? I will pay you in friendship.

Also, I know that is not technically a "moral of the story". I struggle with my words sometimes.

Thursday was an interesting day. It started normal, me taking Greg to school by 8:00, chill at home for an hour, then eat breakfast. As I was finishing breakfast, I accidentally knocked my bowl of cereal on the floor. Thinking I'd be a good wife, I decided I would try to clean it up myself. I've learned that I can get to my knees by sliding off the couch, so I went to the living room and got on my knees.

As I was walking on my knees towards the kitchen, I thought, "This will take forever. Why don't I just crawl?" So I lean forward to put my hands on the ground. Unfortunately, I have very little upper body strength, so instead of catching myself, my head just kept going and hit the ground. As soon as that happened, I said (out loud), "That was stupid Breanne."

I stayed that way for a little while, with my butt in the air, head on the ground before trying to figure out a way to get up. I couldn't push myself into a crawling position, so I flattened myself to the ground. Then I laid there for a while. Then I rolled over so I could try and figure something out. About this time I looked at the clock and it was 9:20. I still had plenty of time to get up, and finish getting ready for work.

Yeah right! That was not smart of me to think. I spent a lot of time thinking about my different options. Now, I didn't have my phone with me. It was blasting One Direction on the kitchen table. I could have army crawled/wiggled my way into the kitchen to see if I could read the top of the table from the ground, but I was going to get myself up all by myself. Instead, I decided to go to our back bathroom where we have a little step going up to the bathroom. I thought that if I could make it back there I could crawl my way up the step and tub.

I army crawled backwards the entire way,  pausing about every 30 seconds so I could rest and catch my breath. My rests were about 5 minutes long, so it took a while to get back there. Once I maneuvered my way into the bathroom and over to the tub, I tried everything I could possibly think of to try to get up. Absolutely NOTHING worked! No matter what way I twisted or turned, I did not have the strength in my arms or legs to push myself up. As I lay there with my head on the step (it's all carpeted, so it was quite comfortable), I thought about just taking a nap. I was so exhausted, I seriously could have. But then I thought, "My co-workers are probably worried that I'm not on time." So I did not nap.

But as I lay there, and crawled my way through the house, I had a lot of time to think, and wish I had a life alert so I could get ahold of someone. I considered going back to the kitchen to get my phone, which did not sound fun at all, so I didn't. Luckily my tablet was just in my bedroom, so if I could make it in there, I could see what I could do.

I first looked at the time... 10:30!! Then I shot my co-workers an email letting them know I was still coming, I'd just be late. Then I considered adding my other co-worker Caleb as a friend on facebook to see if he could come over, since Greg was at work, and I didn't want to bother him. I finally decided to just facebook message Greg and see if he could come and save me. Luckily he was able to, and helped me up.

It was a very strange hour and a half. I had so many weird, random thoughts rolling through my head. I was just grateful that Greg was able to come get me.

When I finally got to my phone, I saw that I had missed two calls from my boss. I sent a text telling them I would be there shortly (Steve had emailed me back saying they were worried, and asked if everything was okay.)

Greg then told me that Danny had called him asking if I was okay and that he was going to come over. At that time Greg was already on his way, so he told Danny not to worry about it. Agh! It was so frustrating, and so embarrassing. I really was just trying to do something a typical housewife does. It was extremely frustrating.

I am grateful that my husband was able to find a way over to get me, and I'm also grateful for concerned co-workers. Danny had apparently left to make he way over when he finally got a hold of Greg. I felt so bad! But appreciate their awareness of me, and willingness to help me. I did let them all know where our secret key is, so if our house is ever burglarized, they're getting the first blame.

Also, Greg said I'm not allowed to get on the floor anymore. So much for trying to be somewhat independent!

Looking back over the past few months can be a bit overwhelming when I consider all the random acts of kindness that I have received. I mean, really over the last two years it's been quite amazing to me, but for some reason the past two months it seemed like one thing right after another.

When we have trials we often feel abandoned and alone, and have a hard time really seeing our Heavenly Father's hand in our daily lives. We become so consumed by what heartaches and pains we are experiencing that we don't pay attention to the little blessings in our lives.

When I got shingles, I had a really hard time with it. I mean, I was cruising along, feeling 'great'. I even had told Greg not to long before that I hadn't felt that good in a long time. So when this came along, took me out of my daily routine, and just shook everything up, I was a bit hurt. I couldn't help but think, "Why now? I haven't been feeling overly stressed, everything is good, so why now?" It was hard, because I like to think that I've handled this whole experience fairly well (though my husband may disagree.) Yes, I have my moments, but overall, I feel like I've done okay, so for me to feel this way kind of dampened my whole spirit.

I often prayed for strength to help me get through this. I apologized to my Heavenly Father for not handling it very well, and told Him that I really wanted to be strong. I wanted to make it through. Of course He's not going to make it all go away entirely, but He will throw in some things that will help me feel better.

And that's when the kindness and thoughtfulness of others started pouring in.

I post a LOT on my Instagram, and a lot of it does have to do with how I'm feeling. Why? For sympathy of others? No. Because I want to remember the hard times so I can look back and say, "Look what I did!" Without having to put a lot of words down on paper, a simple picture with some extremely long hashtags help me remember.

A couple of days into my shingles, I received a card in the mail from a cousin on my husband's side. I have only met them a couple of times, but we're friends on facebook and instagram, so we kind of keep in touch that way. Her name is also Bre. She was a sweetheart and sent us a Coldstone gift card. So incredibly thoughtful.

Not long after that, I received another card in the mail from my Aunt & Uncle. I was a bit surprised to get it, but it totally made my day. Knowing that extended family is thinking of you is a great feeling.

Of course, I already told about my mom coming and bringing us meals, then rubbing my back for a good long while.

I received a fun little gift bag full of fun yellow stuff to brighten my day from my Visiting Teachers.

My co-workers were constantly in touch the week I was gone, just making sure I was okay (and wondering whether I was coming into work or not.) My good friend, and co-worker, Donna called me the Sunday before I returned to work and asked if she could bring me dinner. If you  know her cooking, then you can understand why I would never say no to her. She made us individual chicken pot pies, a salad, and some super delicious cookies.


When I got back to work, my co-workers were awesome as always. They are so good to help me pick things up that I've dropped, to help me count money when my hands are frozen and won't work, or to scan my checks at the end of the day when I'm just exhausted and really want to get home. I really feel bad that they do so much for me. They never complain one bit. Tease me, yes, but never complain. They seriously are the greatest.

My sisters-in-law pitched in and bought me this. It's called Secret Curl, and it's a fancy little tool that makes curling my hair super easy. They had seen how much I loved my hair curled, and were thoughtful enough to get this for me so Greg can do my hair.


One day I was back at work, and this lovely couple showed up to surprise me. They are two of my good friends from high school who were in town to celebrate their anniversary. I was seriously shocked, and yet so excited that they would stop by and say hi. We talked for quite a while. I very rarely get to see them anymore. Last time was at my brother's wedding (he married their niece.)


And then this came. I was working on a Saturday with Donna, and a girl that we both know pretty well went through lane two. This girls is always super sweet, and both Donna and I just love her. She moved away maybe 6 months or more, and so we hadn't seen her in a while. I helped her with her transaction, and sent a receipt out for her to sign. She sent it back and drove off, but when I opened  the tube, this sweet note was in here. I immediately started tear up. I don't remember telling her about my situation, and even if I did, it was 6 months ago. She's only seen me one other time before this, since being back, and I don't think we really said more than, "Hi" to each other.

Here's the thing that I haven't talked about really. My appearance. Do you think I like that I've lost 40 pounds and totally look anorexic? Or that the skin on my face is tightening, especially around my mouth, which makes my crooked teeth stand out a lot more than normal? Or that my once full lips are slowly disappearing? Or that the lines around my mouth just get more and more noticeable? Or that my hands are starting to turn into "claws"? Or that my arms don't straighten, and there is a permanent bend at my elbow? I know I sound shallow and vain, but to hear that you are beautiful after going through so many of these physical changes is pretty sweet.

I don't ever really complain about my appearance to anyone but my husband. You know how in  high school you used to go to school and say, "Oh, man, I totally look like crap today?" Yeah, you just don't do that when you're an adult. Besides, I'm just trying to take this all in, and complaining constantly about how crappy I look everyday is not going to help any, and will just make me feel worse. So I just shake my head, and roll with it. Point is, to hear your beautiful is always something a girl needs to hear. So that was appreciated.

And of course the last part. "Everything will be ok!" Seriously? How did you know that I needed to hear that. Remember, this was in that weird after-shingles period that nothing felt 'normal'. I don't know how she knew to write that, but it was what I needed, and I will be forever grateful to her for doing that for me.


Just last week while I was at work, I received this huge, beautiful basket of flowers. I have no idea who they are from. My boss just put it at my station and said they wanted to remain anonymous. It was the greatest surprise ever.


And then this week I received a visit from a sweet friend from many, many years ago. She was a couple of years older than me, but we were in band and young women's together. She was also so kind, and such a great example. It was a sweet blessing to see her again.



This doesn't even scratch the surface of the kindness I've received. I've received a lot of words of encouragement and it just really means a lot. It's made me realize what a horrible human being I've been for not following up on the prompts to go visit someone, or send someone a card or a gift. Even now as I type I think of at least three people I need to do something for, and I just haven't. Seriously. What is wrong with me? I need to be better, and each of you needs to be sure to follow up on those promptings to act in kindness. You never know what your kindness will do for someone.

Going back to my prayers. My {patriarchal blessing} blesses me with the "constant realization of the love of my Heavenly Father." He can't be here physically to hug me, or have a conversation back and forth, or to bring me flowers or meals. That's why he needs each and every one of us. I know my Heavenly Father prompted all these sweet people, because he knew I needed to feel of His love.

Seriously, people. I am blessed!!

I had my second PFT schedule for the 2nd of April. Greg was on his Spring Break, but I had to get off work a little early. When the nurse came in, she looked a bit surprised and said, "You're back already?" I was surprised she remembered me. I just told her that it had been about six months, so it was due.


Well, we get in there and she tries to use the oximeter, which of course doesn't work, then tries to use the ear clip which also doesn't read anything. That should have been the first clue for me of how things were going to go down. Well, she shows me the new machine they have and has me go in and sit on the chair. Knowing I was going to be there for a while, I asked her if I could grab my coat to sit on. It was a rock hard wood chair, and my butt just can't take that for long periods of time. Once we finally got that settled, I went to put my mouth on the mouthpiece. I don't even come close to fitting my mouth around it. So she grabs the one they use for kids. Well, my mouth doesn't fit around that one either. Of course not. And of course that is the smallest mouthpiece that they have, which actually surprises me because this is a test scleroderma patients do quite a bit, and I can't possibly be the only one who can't open my mouth....Right? Anyway, I started crying out of frustration, and the nurse was just a sweetheart. She kept saying things like, "I'm sorry you have to go through this," and just tried to make me feel better. She sent Dr. Walker a message letting him know I wasn't able to do the PFT, but I haven't heard from him about it, so it must not be too important.

After the nurse said, "Sorry you had to waste your time coming out here," we responded with, "Well, I already got work off, so it's okay." I was craving a seafood sub from Subway, so we went and got one, then Greg surprised me by taking me to Divergent.


Such a good movie! It could have followed the book a little better, but the main dude is might good looking, so I didn't mind too much.

Then we came out to this scene of snow. Despite not being able to do the PFT, it turned out to be a good day. We'll have to see what my doc says when I visit him next.

On Wednesday, March 19, as I was sitting in my manager's office for our morning meeting, I kept feeling this pain that would throb in my back, and send pain down to my knee. It hurt a little bit enough to make me uncomfortable, but not so bad that I couldn't tolerate it. I took some Tramadol and some Ibuprofen, which helped a little, but not much. Thursday the pain got worse. I was still able to work, but by the end of my shift, I was really uncomfortable. It just got worse that night.

Friday I stayed home and decided to call my doctor to see if I could come see him. By now the pain was quite intolerable. I wish I could explain it. It was like when my back would throb, it would send a shooting pain around the front of my thigh to the back. It was so painful, and nothing seemed to help. It would like pulsate, and I would freeze because it hurt so bad. I was able to go in and see Dr. Carlson that afternoon.


He asked me about the pain, then had me stand (which I could barely do) and he pushed down my back. It hurt more when he pushed on my lower back, so he thought it was probably my sciatic nerve. He gave me some medicine and pain killers to try and help, as well as a shot in the butt. (That was a first, and was quite painful). He sent me home with instructions to call him Monday if I didn't feel better.


That night as I was bathing, my knee was stinging quite bad. When I got out of the tub, and ran to the bedroom to lay down, I asked Greg if I had cuts on my knee. He said it looked red, so I thought it was razor burn or something like that. Well, the pain got worse and I was basically bed ridden. It hurt so much to get out of bed and try to walk. Eating was hard, and even going to the bathroom was painful. I just really couldn't find relief.

As the weekend went on, the rash got worse. I started getting blistery things on my knee and up my thigh. They didn't hurt necessarily, just the other pain shooting through my thigh. I thought they might be hives. Oh joy.

Monday came and I stayed home again. The pain was so bad. I may just have been being a baby, but it really was bad. I called my doctor and told them the pain wasn't getting better, and that I had developed a rash that I  thought was maybe hives. The lady I spoke with said she would send Dr. Carlson a message and see what he wanted to do.

When she called back, she said that he wanted me to get an X-ray (still thinking it was my sciatic nerve), and go to physical therapy. She then asked me to describe the rash, so I did. A little while later she called back and said he wanted to see me.


I'm not even kidding, the pain was so bad I could barely walk. It was hard to breathe and hard to talk too. Ah, it makes me want to cry thinking about it. Greg came and got me and took me to the clinic. He checked me in, and when the nurse came to get me, Greg said, "It might be easier if we get a wheelchair." That's how bad it was. I went and had my back X-rayed, then went to see Dr. Carlson. As soon as he saw the rash he said, "I'm pretty sure that's shingles." Awesome. He asked me more questions and checked them out a bit more, then decided on the meds I'd be taking. Because I'm on an immune suppressor for the Scleroderma, I'm more susceptible to getting shingles (along with cancer, dying, etc.) It really sucks because I knew that all along, but I just figured it would be like a cold, or the flu, not something like shingles. Needless to say, it totally threw me for a loop. He put me on Lyrica to help with the nerve pain, told me to start out on it slowly, and build up until the pain was gone.

Monday night was the worst. I was in so much pain. The throbbing just would not stop, and nothing I did even helped. It sucked. Greg even slept in the living room I was making my pain known. I stayed home the next day as well. There was no way I was going to be able to work. I got up early with Greg and bathed (which was the little relief I received), then ran back to bed where I stayed basically all day.


My mom was in town and had some stuff for me, so when she texted me and asked if she could stop by, I said, "Yes, as long as you don't care that I'm not dressed." I did wrap a blanket around me though. I did feel a little better, and by a little I mean I was able to walk to the kitchen and sit down. It was still hard to talk, but Mom stayed for a little while, then I went back to my bedroom where Mom rubbed my back for a while. It was really great. She's the best. Thanks mom.

The rest of the week slowly got better. My days consisted of getting up early, bathing, going back to bed, trying to sleep, playing on my phone, eventually watching Pretty Little Liars on Netflix, eating as much as I could, bathing again at night, and then sleeping.

Here's a little timeline of how pretty the shingle were.


It was so incredibly frustrating to get shingles. I've been really trying hard not to complain about my situation, but it was a really hard week, and has been since. I just feel like I was going along, doing just fine, then all of a sudden, I've got yet another thing to deal with and fight through. I know it's all part of my mortal experience, and that I'm not alone in this. It can be hard sometimes to remember that your Heavenly Father is there and he understands what I'm going through, and He hurts that I hurt. I'm guilty of forgetting that and feeling like I'm alone. It's just been hard. The shingles themselves (the sores) haven't been that bad, the nerve pain totally sucked, and just the emotional toll that it's taken on me has been really hard.

But, I'm not writing this to get sympathy or for you to feel bad for me. I am doing fine. I will be okay. I only write it so that I can remember the feelings I had, and how eventually, the physical pain will go away, maybe the emotional pain will stick around for a while, but it will all be okay. My Heavenly Father knows that I'm struggling and can and will give me comfort when that emotional pain won't go away.

Right now the shingles have almost completely disappeared. I still have a few scabs, and some scars, but they're healing well. The nerve pain has almost completely disappeared as well. I have a little pain still in my back and hip, but it's tolerable, and that's all I can ask for. Like I said, it really threw me for a loop, and I'm still working my way back, but seriously. I'm doing well. I've been so incredibly blessed the last month, and I'm lucky it was just shingles, and not something worse. Plus, I got a week off of work, and got an entire season of Pretty Little Liars in.