A Story of Love, Loss, and Learning to Move On.

“Each new life, no matter how brief, forever changes the world.”

The morning of April 7^th was a lazy one.  It was conference Sunday.  We were watching in our bed wearing our jammies.  The morning of April 7^th I took a pregnancy test.  I had been feeling off for a while.  EVERYTHING was making me nauseas.  I was super tired.  My boobs hurt.  Typical pregnancy symptoms, right?  Besides those telltale symptoms I just knew.  So I peed on a stick.

A blue line!  There was a blue line!  It was so faint.  I mean I really didn’t know if it was actually there or not.  I showed Kyle and he could see it too.  Barely, but he could see it.  We laid in bed feeling a little numb.  Well, I shouldn’t speak for Kyle, but I was feeling numb.  Numb and so excited.  I held my tummy.  I just knew that I was pregnant.

I called my doctor the next day and she confirmed that there wouldn’t be any sort of line unless there was HCG present in my urine.  The pregnancy hormone.  She told me to wait a few days and take a digital test.  There are no faint lines on digital tests.  There is either a negative or there is a positive.

Wait a few days?  Yeah right.  I drove to Walmart and I bought a 2-pack of digital tests.  I went to the bathroom, the bathroom in the front of the store in Walmart and I peed on another stick.

PREGNANT.

It was crystal clear.  I was pregnant.

I immediately texted my closest friends and swore them to secrecy.  I sent them pictures of the positive result.  We exchanged excited messages that contained far too many exclamation points.  My friends were happy for me.  I was happy.  I was so happy.  I was going to have another baby.

With every wave of nausea, every food aversion, every time I yelped with pain when my chest was brushed by my arm or bounced on by my child, I was thrilled.  Kyle and I were expanding our family.

I daydreamed of a blue-eyed baby.  I wondered how different this baby would look than Ayla.  I wondered if it would look enough like me to still resemble Ayla, even though they have different fathers.  I got out my What To Expect When Expecting book.  I read and reread the chapters that I had read so many times 4 years ago.  Kyle and I discussed names.  A lot of names.  I looked at baby clothes.  I visited the doctor and they confirmed my pregnancy.  It was real.  It was happening!  I was just over 6 weeks along.

Then the bleeding started.  A lot of bleeding.  I sat on the bathroom floor and I cried.  Kyle consoled me.  I tried to remain calm but this bleeding contained large clots.  There is nothing good to be said about bleeding and large clots when you are 6 weeks pregnant.  I made an appointment to be seen by the midwife the next morning.  They did an ultrasound.  They couldn’t find a sac.  There was nothing.  My uterus was completely empty.  We sat in the little office and I cried.  The ultrasound tech hadn’t said a word but I knew what I saw on the screen.  Nothing.  The midwife came in and she spoke with me about miscarriage.  She let me know that I might keep bleeding.  I might experience pain.  She told me that they needed to take some blood to test my level of HCG and that we would need to do a couple of more tests 48 hours apart to confirm that my levels were dropping normally.  To confirm that this baby was no longer there.

I drove back to work, sobbing the entire way.  I walked back to my desk, sobbing quietly.  No one asked what was wrong.  I sat and I cried for the last two hours of work.  I assisted customers with their insurance and billing questions for two hours while tears ran down my face.  That was a terrible day.

April 19^th was a hectic and wonderful day.  My stepsister Haleigh was getting married that day.  I got up extra early and went in to the clinic to have my blood drawn.  She said they were ordering it STAT and that I would get the results later that day.  I felt sick to my stomach.  I just knew that  they would tell me that the levels were falling and that my baby was gone.

We headed up to Bountiful.  Kyle and I went to the Temple and were there with Haleigh and Adam when they were sealed for time and eternity.  I cried.  I cried because I was happy for her and she looked beautiful and so happy.  I cried because I was so sad.  I cried because I knew that I was exactly where I needed to be that day,  in the Temple with my husband next to me.

Adam and Haleigh tie the knot!

 

The Bountiful LDS temple.

We had an amazing lunch with the Willden family at Maddox.  The food was spectacular.  Catching up with the family was fun.  The whole time I was trying to keep my head in the conversations.  I was trying to smile and stay distracted when really I wanted to be curled up in a ball in my bed crying my eyes out.

Ayla having fun with Great Grandpa Willden

In the van on the way to the reception I FINALLY heard back from the nurse at the clinic.

“You’re levels have gone up.  From these results we can only assume that you are still pregnant.”

My levels had gone up!  I was still pregnant!  Of course I was trying to stay calm.  I said things like, “It’s still early.  They need to take blood again on Sunday.  Anything could happen.”  I was really trying not to get my hopes up.  I was trying to remain calm.  Needless to say, I could finally breathe again and my smile wasn’t forced anymore that day.

My husband and I at the reception.

April 21^st.  I woke up to more bleeding.  So much bleeding.  I was scared.  I called the emergency room.  They told me to come in right away.  I woke Kyle up and let him know that we needed to go to the emergency room.  I asked my brother, who was still staying with us, if he could take care of Ayla while we were gone.  We headed to the emergency room.

This time I knew.  There was no baby.  There couldn’t possibly be a baby after all of the blood that I had just lost and was still losing.  There was no way.  I wasn’t crying.  I was staying calm.  I was trying to be upbeat.  I kept reminding myself that I had already been told once this week that I had lost the baby.  I knew that I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up when that stupid nurse called me and told me my levels were rising.  I just needed to get through these tests, be told the terrible news, and move on.  However, emergency rooms are even slower than the normal doctor’s office when you aren’t first priority.  {The family who was saying goodbye to a loved-one a couple doors down was priority.}  It took forever.  Blood was taken.  An ultrasound was done.  They should have been able to at least see a fetal sac at this point.  Even I could see that there was no sac.

Stay calm.  Keep breathing.

Eventually the doctor came in.  He had looked at my ultrasound.  He had seen my levels.

“Your HCG levels still indicate a pregnancy.”

What?  How is it possible to still be pregnant after I had bled not only once, but twice.  And bled terribly!  What is going on?

He told me that my levels were still very, very low.  He said that I wasn’t as far along as we had thought.  He called my situation, because of the bleeding, a threatened miscarriage.  I was supposed to take it easy.

There was still a baby.  I had questions.  Why did I have a positive pregnancy test on April 7^th when these levels are indicating that I conceived basically the day before?  Why was I bleeding?

I was fine and happy to be pregnant.  I was told to see my doctor in 4 weeks for an ultrasound, unless I bled more, of course.  In 4 weeks they would be able to find a sac.  In 4 weeks they would probably be able to see a fetal pole.  Maybe a heartbeat if we were lucky.

I bled more.  I bled for 12 days.  We checked my HCG every 48 hours.  It was rising normally.  I was still bleeding but my levels were rising.  They kept telling me that the bleeding was nothing to worry about.  As long as your levels are rising, you can ignore the bleeding.  Well, friends, that is easier said than done.  Bleeding for 12 days is not awesome.  Bleeding for 12 days after you have been certain, twice, that you have lost the baby you are carrying is unsettling.  To say the least.

Even still, I felt pregnant.  I felt so very pregnant.  These not-so-fun early pregnancy symptoms were what kept me holding on to hope.  I started holding my tummy again.  I started daydreaming about names again.  My husband sweetly kissed my tummy goodnight.  We told Ayla what was going on because somehow her cousins knew what was going on and when your cousins know what is going on, you hear about it.  {Brynn asked me, “Did your baby die?”  That was a rough one.}  We let ourselves be excited again.

My tummy started to bloat.  My pants were getting tight.  It had been a couple of weeks and I was confident in the fact that I was pregnant.  There was a baby coming!  Due December 27^th, 2013.  A baby!  I bought a cute pink shirt for Ayla.  I sent it home with my friend Carissa so that her boyfriend would print the words “Only Child Expiring December 2013” on it.  This would be the way that we announced our family growing.

A week before I was supposed to go in for my ultrasound I decided to call and see if they would let me come in earlier.  The nurse said, “Why not.  Let’s bring you in tomorrow.  We’ll be able to see something tomorrow.”

Kyle, Ayla, and I headed in to the office.  I was so excited to see my baby.  Or the sac that would be housing my little baby.  Or the fetal pole that would grow into my baby.  Maybe to see his heartbeat.  I couldn’t wait!  I was on the verge of wetting my pants because I had filled up on water so that they could have the best possible view.  I mean, I could hardly walk.  I hopped up on that table, trying not to pee, and I stared anxiously at the screen.

She felt around my tummy with the wand.  She pushed really hard and I wanted to scream with every push because I was certain that I was about to pee on her table.  I stared at the screen and do you know what I saw?  Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  Unlike the other ultrasound techs that I have had to deal with, she told me that she didn’t see anything.  She apologized for the lack of a baby.

I wiped off the goo and I ran to the bathroom.  I went pee and I cried.  How is this possible?  What is happening to me?  How can I feel so very pregnant yet be so empty? 

“Let’s do some more blood work.  Let’s see where your levels are at.”  Carol, the sweetest midwife ever, let me know that we wanted the levels to be down.  She was very sorry, and she was so gentle with her words.  At this point, seeing as there is no baby, we want the levels to be down.

I knew she was right.  The levels had to be down.  They needed to be.  I needed this to be over.   I needed someone to tell me, “THERE IS NO BABY.”  I needed closure.   They took more blood.

I got a call that afternoon.  "Your levels are high.  We don’t know what’s going on.  With these levels we should be able to see a baby.  This is worrisome.  Someone will call you."

No one called.  By the evening I was worried.  What the hell is going on?  Why hasn’t anyone called me?

I called the clinic.  I got through to the on-call nurse.  Jen.  She pulled up my information.  She apologized that no one had called.  She explained that she hadn’t been able to get a hold of either of the on-call doctors to discuss my situation, which is why I hadn’t been contacted.  She the told me that they think that I am experiencing an ectopic pregnancy.  She let me know that my tubes were fine, the baby was not in my fallopian tubes.  However, that means it was somewhere else outside of my uterus.  This is scary, and painful, and life-threatening.  For the baby and for me.  She discussed stats and options.  It was the first time I had been made aware of a possible termination of pregnancy.   We talked for a long time.  I asked a lot of questions.  She answered them the best she could.  She promised that she would let me know more once a doctor has taken a look at my situation.

A little after 9:30 PM that Friday night she got back to me and let me know that the doctor thinks I am safe to wait for another blood draw on Monday before taking any immediate action.

On Monday, May 6^th, I went in to have my blood taken again.  I was praying for low levels.  I knew that they needed to be lower.  We needed to know that this pregnancy wasn’t a valid pregnancy and that my body was going back to normal.  I hated the thought of a “life-threatening” situation.  I hate the thought of having to terminate a baby who had attached outside of my uterus, where it should not be.  They took my blood and I went back to work.

An hour later I got a phone call.  It was Jen, the ever-so-faithful nurse.  The nurse who had spent almost an hour on the phone with me discussing what could possibly be happening with my body.  The only one, at this point, who had given me any information at all.

“I have bad news.  Your levels are much higher than they were on Friday.  This is definitely an ectopic pregnancy.”  I asked what my options were.  She said that we could do another ultrasound and try to locate where the baby has attached, but we would most likely need to still terminate.  She said the longer I wait the more likely it is that something will go wrong.  I would be jeopardizing my future fertility.  She said, “We need you to check into the hospital and we need to test your kidney function.  We need to terminate this pregnancy.”  I asked if I could go after work.  I had only been at this job for a couple of months and had already missed so much work for these medical issues.  Plus my boss was not super friendly and I didn’t share with him what was going on and I was dreading having to tell him that I had to leave and go to the hospital.  Her response?  “We are considering this a medical emergency.  We need you to get to the hospital ASAP, like NOW, get your kidney’s tested, and have the IV started by 5.”

So I shot my boss a quick email, sent my husband a text to meet me at the hospital, and took off.  I was shaking the whole way there.  {The whole 10 minutes.}  I felt so sick.  I hated that I was terminating my pregnancy, but I knew that I needed to do it.  I wasn’t going to risk my life or my possible chances of future babies.  I still hated it.

I checked myself in and I tried to stay positive.  I snapchatted away with my friends.  I joked with the nurses.  I pretended like my heart wasn’t shattering all over again.  Kyle showed up after they had taken my blood to test my kidney function.  They took a lot of blood for that test.  Kyle got there in time for me to learn that I wasn’t actually getting this medication that would terminate the pregnancy through an IV drip.  Kyle was there in time to be with me while two nurses injected two massive needles, one in each kidney, injecting the Methotrexate.  This hurt.  It hurt so bad.  A massive needle straight into the kidney HURTS.  The Methotrexate hurt.  It stung.  I could feel it spreading through my lower back.  It was cold but it stung so bad, which almost made it feel hot.  They put a couple of bandaids on me and sent me on my way.

I didn’t even get out of the lobby before the tears were running down my cheeks.  Kyle asked, “Are you crying because it hurt or because of the baby?”  Both.  It did hurt.  And I’m not too old to cry when a shot hurts.  But I was crying because this was it.  This was the end that I knew was coming but still hurt so very bad.  There wasn’t going to be a baby in December 2013.  In fact, this Methotrexate that was hurting me so terribly made sure that there wasn’t going to be a baby for quite a while longer.  This was the end of the road.  Only, it wasn’t.

I still needed my HCG levels to drop.  They let me know that we would need to test my blood every week to make sure that the levels were dropping.  They warned me that sometimes HCG levels will reach a plateau and I will need to have a second, or even third, injection of Methotrexate.  I crossed my fingers and I prayed that my levels would drop quickly.  I was done with this.  I was so, so done with this.

I was talked to about the rarity of my situation.  Why did I have a positive pregnancy test on April 7th only to have my levels drop and come back up?  Why did I bleed so terribly and pass blood clots that matched every description written about a miscarriage?   The midwife believes that I may have been pregnant with twins.  In separate sacs.  I lost one that would have implanted in my uterus, the second one somehow attached outside of the uterus and continued to grow.  What are the odds?  Why would this happen to me?

I have had my blood drawn every week.  I have had my blood drawn 7 times since my injections of Methotrexate.  I get to talk to Jen every week.  Every week she apologizes that I have to get my blood drawn again.  She laughs and says, "I know you hate having to talk to me every week".  I still have HCG in me.  I still FEEL pregnant.  Not as much as 3 weeks ago, but it’s still there.  It is a cruel, cruel thing to feel pregnant when you are not.  It has not been easy.  Even my last blood draw, the one last Wednesday, showed that my levels are 37.5.  It’s a very small level, but I need to be below 5.  I’m not there, but I have finally been told to stop my weekly blood draw.  We will test again in a month.  There is a light at the end of this hellish tunnel.

Through this whole situation I have tried to keep my head up.  I have kept smiling and I have dealt with it the only way I know how.  “I’m fine.  Yeah it sucks, but what can I do?”  Really I just want to sob every time someone asks me.  Really I wish that no one else knew at all so that I wouldn’t have to explain the situation or pretend like I am fine, when on the inside I don’t feel fine.

It’s amazing how quickly you become attached to a baby that is inside you.  It’s amazing the loss that you feel when you find out that there really isn’t a baby anymore.  It’s amazing how empty you feel on the inside.  It’s amazing how much it hurts my heart every time they take my blood and tell me that my levels have dropped.  It’s amazing how much it hurts every time I see someone with a cute pregnant tummy because I remember that my tummy isn’t going to look like that any time soon.  It’s amazing how bad it hurts when Ayla says, “Is there still a baby in your tummy?  Did it go to heaven?  I want you to have a baby in your tummy.”  It’s amazing how sad I am.  There is nothing that I could have done to prevent or fix this situation.  It is what it is.  And it is sad.

I am so thankful for my husband.  Kyle has been nothing but supportive through this entire situation.  He has been my rock.  He has cried with me, he has been angry with me; he has felt all of the emotions that I have felt.  He has held my hand the whole time.  I have fallen in love with him over and over again.  I am so lucky that he is the person I get to share these trials with.  I am so lucky that he is going to be next to me forever.  I am so lucky that he will be the father to our future children.  I am so lucky that he is the father to our current child.  I am so, so lucky.   I would not have made it through the past 3 months without Kyle.

Having said all of this, how sad I am and how badly I hurt, I know that I have so many great things ahead of me.  I know that it wasn’t the last time that I will be pregnant.  I know that someday I will get to see that positive pregnancy test again and someday I will actually get to feel the flutter in my tummy of an active little ninja baby, and I will hold another beautiful little child in my arms.  It’s all about timing.  I have faith that there is a plan for me and a plan for my family.  I will probably always hurt inside when I think about the baby that was never meant to be, and I will probably always cry when I read this story, but I am a stronger person for it.  I have gained some empathy.  My heart aches for every woman who has miscarried their baby or has had to terminate their pregnancy for the sake of their own life.  My heart aches.  I know that nothing can fill the emptiness that is felt.  Only time.

As for now I am really trying to be thankful for what I do have and not focus on what I have lost.  I have a beautiful family, immediate and extended, who are here for me.  I have a great job.  I have wonderful and supportive friends.  I have so much and I am so thankful.

Here’s to bright futures and better tomorrows!

Movin' On & Feelin' Crafty.

Over the years I have developed a love for lounging on a patio in the evening.  It's so nice to sit outside and unwind from the day.

The past two years I have not had a patio.  I've lived in basement apartments {which have been wonderful and suited our needs at the time.} and sitting outside in someone's yard that is not your own isn't quite the same as relaxing in your own little space.

Kyle and I decided that it was time to move out of the basement and to a 3rd floor apartment complex.

Our new apartment complex.

We put a lot of thought into this decision.  There was a lot of agonizing.  We really love where we live.  Our landlords {they live upstairs} have been so, so great.  Ayla is going to go through some MAJOR Barbara and Ryan withdrawals.  And the ward {neighborhood church members} has been the best I have experienced since the ward I grew up in.  And it's beautiful being up at the base of the mountains.

But, it's time to move.  We need a little bit more storage space.  And we need to spend a little less on gas.  And it will be a little closer to family.  And we will have vaulted ceilings!  And a fitness center.  And a swimming pool.  And a playground for Ayla.  And a basketball court for Kyle.  And we will have a PATIO!

There are many exciting things about a new place.  But aside from the massive walk-in closet and the two massive bathrooms, I am most looking forward to the patio.  I can't wait to lounge on our patio in the evening, have some ice water or lemonade {maybe a dirty diet coke!}, talk about the day, look at the beautiful mountains, and unwind.  It sounds so dreamy to me.

The only problem is that we don't have any patio furniture.  I have some folding camp chairs, but that's not my idea of cute patio furniture.  So I did what any other red-blooded girl would do and I turned to Pinterest.  It had to be cute.  It had to be unique.  It had to be DIY.  And it had to be CHEAP.  {We are on a MAJOR budget, folks.}

I turned to my trusty board where I have pinned crafts using wooden pallets and I found this beauty:

Isn't this great?!  I am picturing brightly colored pallets and brightly colored cushions and pillows.  I need a little bit more happiness on my patio than is pictured above.

Kyle and I have already started cruising around looking at pallets and planning how we are going to go about accomplishing this.  I am so excited to get crafty and make this little sitting area for our new patio.  Look for a tutorial-type post in the future!

Looking forward to August 1st; a new place and new beginnings!

Xoxo

Letting Utah In.

 {These are thoughts I had on my drive to work this morning.}

I have lived in Utah since 2007.  I moved here to get away from the life I was currently living.  I wasn't happy.  I was in a rut.  I was in a terrible relationship.  I just needed to get away.

Utah seemed like the easiest place to run.  I had been there so many times to visit family.  I had friends who had already moved there for school.  Utah Valley was supposed to be super social and super awesome.

I got here and things didn't really turn around the way that I hoped they would.  In fact, I have spent the most difficult years of my life in Utah.

You know what I found out when I moved to Utah?  It is NOT Washington state.  It is nothing like it.  And I HATED Utah.

{Disclaimer:  I am going to share some of the opinions I developed about Utah, which may offend you if you are born and raised here.  Please do not take offense.  These opinions most likely have nothing to do with you.}

1. I thought Utah was hideous.  Everything looked dead.
2. The people.  Oh, the people.  They are self-centered.  I have never experienced so much selfishness.  All anyone cared about was themselves.  They are judgmental.  SO JUDGMENTAL. 
3. Not only are people self-centered and judgmental, but they are rude.  All of the sudden I experienced people honking car horns and flipping me off and cussing at me and throwing things out their window - all because I wasn't going 15 over the speed limit like everyone else.  Um... what?
4. I had family here, but it wasn't my immediate family and no one seemed to care that I was here anyway.  Not that I have gone out of my way to visit family, but I have never been invited to a family function.  Ever.  And still feeling like a child, I expected the adults to kind of take me in.  They didn't.  {Not true, Marilyn had me over for Thanksgiving dessert a few years ago, which I loved.  And I had Thanksgiving at Cindy's house once because my dad was in town.}
5. My friends didn't care that I was here either.  They had their own lives that apparently didn't have room for me.  People that I had known to love me and care about me back home suddenly wouldn't give me the time of day.  In fact, they still don't.  {It's not hard to respond to a message on Facebook or a text when I reach out to you.}

After coming to all of the conclusions listed above; I was miserable.  I HATED UTAH.

Why didn't I move home?  Why didn't I go back to where I was comfortable and where every view was breath-taking and where my friends who really cared were and where my mom and dad and brothers were and where people were nice and accepting and where I knew I belonged?

I was too proud.  I said that I was leaving, I was making this big move to find happiness and get out of my rut.  There was no way that I was going to turn around with my tail tucked between my legs and go home to my mom's house because I had no where else to go.  It wasn't going to happen.  I would rather cry myself to sleep at night with no friends and no money and being terribly unhappy then fail.

That seems so dramatic and I know people wouldn't have seen it as me "failing" the way that I did, but it was honestly how I felt.  I made my bed, I was going to sleep in it.  Even if it was the worst bed EVER.

Now, here I sit.  6 years deep in life as a Utahn.  The 5 hardest years of my life behind me.  I can adjust the list above a little bit.

1. Utah is beautiful.  It will never compare to my home state, nothing ever will.  But man, Utah has so much of it's own beauty to offer.  Every single day I marvel at the mountains that I am lucky to live under.  And the vast blue sky.  The sky that I used to resent because there weren't trees blocking my view.  It is gorgeous.  Utah has taught me the meaning of "purple mountain majesty" because only here have I actually seen purple mountains against a fiery orange and hot pink sky.
2. The people.  Oh, the people.  There are still some self-centered people around.  I have learned that those are generally the college students who are actually from all over the country and are still too young to care about anyone but themselves.  And yes, people are very judgmental.  That comes with the religious view that most people here are raised with.  And that's okay.  I am confident enough in my self and my decisions that I really don't care what people may have to say about me.
3. People are still rude.  I have gotten used to it.  But there are amazingly nice people as well.  They may not stick out as much as the rude people, but they are there.  The people who smile at the grocery store, the people who let you merge without flipping you off, etc. {hah}
4. I still don't really ever see family.  Ever.  But I do live far away.  And I have developed an awesome relationship with my cousin Bevany and my aunt Lisa.  Getting to know them and have friendships with them has meant everything to me.  And the family that I have now?  The one that I married in to?  They are better than I could have ever dreamed.  I love them and I love how much family means to them.  All of their family.  {But I still miss my own family back in Washington terribly.}
5. Friends.  Who needs the old ones anyway?  No, but really.  We have grown up and grown apart and we have different lives and that's fine.  I no longer expect friends to put forth any effort.  If I put forth an effort and they respond, that's awesome.  If they put forth an effort, it makes me feel great and I hope they know that I love and appreciate them.  There are still a special few who are around {and by around I mean socially connected!} and they are wonderful.  Plus, I have made new friends.  I have made a couple of friends here in Utah that I can't imagine not knowing.  I am so, so thankful for my close friends that I have made in Utah.  You know who you are.

 Through all of the struggles, all of the times that I thought life couldn't get any worse and I was stuck in UTAH, I really did find happiness.

If I would have moved to Utah I wouldn't have met this girl.

Carissa is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of a friend.  She's that "girlfriend you meet in college".  You know, the one that you never lose contact with but that you don't see enough?  That's her.  And though she has many friends in Utah, being a Nephi girl, I do not.  She is one of the best things about Utah.

If I hadn't have moved to Utah I wouldn't have Ayla.

The girl that made me a mama.  She is Utah, through and through.  She even has a bit of a Utah accent, which if you know me, kills me.  I can't imagine life without her and she is most definitely one of the best things {in the history of Utah} to come out of Utah.

And if I hadn't moved to Utah back in 2007 I wouldn't have met Kyle.  My husband.

This guy.  He's the one that ties me down to Utah.  He is my born and raised Utah boy.  He makes me never want to leave.  {Unless he's coming with me, I'm staying put.}  Ayla and I were broken and Kyle was the glue that put us back together.  He fixed us and made us a family.  Kyle represents all things good about Utah.  Absolutely one of the best things about Utah.

If I had never moved to Utah I wouldn't be a part of this.

I cannot believe I could have missed being a part of this.  One of the best things about Utah.

I think it's safe to say that going into 6 years of life in Utah, I am finally letting Utah in.  This is the first year that I have the allergies that everyone has always complained about.  This is the first year that I have been excited about a miserably hot summer.  This is the first year that I am excited about exploring canyons and camping and being outdoors in Utah.  This is the first year that I have been utterly and completely content, no, not just content - HAPPY in Utah.

I will always miss my home state.  Nowhere will ever beat the beauty.  Nowhere will ever make me feel the way that the PNW does.

But Utah makes me happy.  Utah has become a part of me.

'Cause everything it must belong somewhere
Just like the gold around her finger or the silver in his hair
Yeah, everything it must belong somewhere
I know that now, that's why I'm staying here
Oh I know that now, that's why I'm staying here

Picnic in the park {a quick recharge}

My dear friend Carissa and I make plans from time to time.  We plan and we reschedule and then we cancel and we reschedule.  So on and so forth.  It's what we do.  It works for us.  We go too long without catching up yet we always pick up right where we left off.

Today we met for lunch.  {This was only the 3rd time it had been scheduled, which is good for us.} We met halfway between our places of employment, which happens to be a nice little park on Center Street in Orem.

It's funny how sitting on a Tangled blanket in a park and eating our left-overs and drinking our canned sodas can be one of those recharging moments that I need so badly.

Sometimes you need to discuss your job, your life, your family, friends, and laugh with your dear friend for half an hour.

I always mean to take photos of Carissa or to take a photo of the two of us.  {We had no problem catching a photo between 2007 and 2009.}  Somehow I get too wrapped up in conversation and the next thing I know I am walking to my car and snapping a quick picture of the park.  The pretty green park where I was able to have a mini recharging session. 

We say that we're going to do this weekly.  That probably means we'll be lucky if it happens once a month and that is just fine with me.

Random Summer Phone Pictures!

Here are a bunch of cell phone pictures from the past month or so.  I still don't have a digital camera so I have to make do with my cell phone!  Again, blogger uploaded these in random order and I don't know any easy way to rearrange them that doesn't take forever (if you know, please tell me!) so the order is all over the place!

Playing basketball in our driveway!

I had Brandon and Charity's girls over for a sleepover.  Cousin time!

Ayla and our bearded dragon, Luna.

Ayla and grandma Deb's dog, Gabbi.

I love them :)

Cute girls helping me bake cookies at our sleepover!

Ayla and Logan at Kyle's family reunion.  SO CUTE!

Fam at a neighborhood BBQ!

The view from our door at our new apartment.  Not bad! :)

Basketball in the driveway!

Dancing down the street with cousins!

Red lipstick :)

Basketball in the driveway! He's teaching her young.

This is how she sleeps.

Basketball in the driveway!

Helping me bake cinnamon rolls in her new apron from Grandma Lory!

The view from behind!  (Joys of potty training!)

Packed up and ready to board a plane to HAWAII!

Family in Hawaii!

Hopefully I will be able to post about our week long trip to Maui with my family before the wedding.  We had so much fun and I have so many pictures!  Stay tuned!

Bumps, detours, and melt-downs.

"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born.  She never existed before.  The woman existed, but the mother, never.  A mother is something absolutely new."  -Rajneesh


How huge is that statement?


For most of my life when I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up my answer was "A mom.  I just want to be a mommy."  My other answers?  Veterinarian, Zoo-Keeper, Wild animal photographer; specifically to see the snow leopards in the Himalayas.  (I vividly remember that one being my answer in about the 6th grade where I spent hours in the library looking at pictures of snow leopards and reading all about them.)  But more than anything having to do with the animals, I wanted to be a mommy.  I wanted to grow up and get married and have beautiful babies and stay at home and do nothing but keep a clean house and cook great meals and bake delicious things and be the best mom in the whole world.


How many people actually grow up to be what they always wanted to be?  Some do.  Some take the proper steps and do exactly what they have always wanted to do.  Some don't.  Some change their mind completely.  Lots of times even.  Some people hit bumps in the road which lead to detours which eventually lead to a completely different life than they imagined.


I am a mommy.  I have been for two years, one month, and two days.  That is what I've always wanted to be.


My road to being a mommy was not the road that I planned on taking.  I hit bumps and I took detours.  I didn't have the husband and the house and I don't get to stay at home and I am a terrible cook and I rarely bake.  And oh my hell, my apartment is a disaster.


I am a single mommy.  Life is hard.  It is really hard.  I don't have a lot of time to dwell on it or feel sorry for myself.  I get up and I rush out the door and I hate dropping my baby off and I am always, always late for work and when I'm at work I am wondering if my baby is ok and thinking about how messy my house is and how I really need to go grocery shopping but I am really broke so the thought of having to get groceries just stresses me out which leads to being stressed about everything else that I can't afford and how I hope that I will be able to pay rent on time or if I can't just hoping that my landlord will be understanding. (He absolutely is, which I am SO grateful for.)  And then I pick up my girl after work and I am so happy to see her and she is hungry and tired and I am tired and we go home and after a rushed lunch I just want us both to go to sleep.  Meanwhile more dishes were added to the sink that was already full and more clothes are thrown on the floor and toys are being dragged all over the house and I just stepped on a cookie and crumbled it into the carpet and then I am getting grumpy because Ayla is so tired but rather than taking the nap that she needs she is throwing things and whining and nothing I am doing is making it any better.  So eventually she takes a nap but by this time it is too late for her to be napping which means that we will be having a late dinner and both be up until 2 AM which causes me to have to rush out the door in the morning without taking the time to get ready for the day and feel good about myself and feeling bad about dropping her off and being late to work all over again.


Deep breath.


Sometimes it all catches up to me.  Sometimes I feel like throwing myself into bed and not ever getting out when I think about all of the ways that I am falling behind and all of the things that I can and should be doing better.  And I get angry at myself for the choices that I have made and I get angry for the detours that were made in my life, whether I wanted them or not.  I feel angry that I am a single mother because this is not meant to be done alone.  It's difficult enough with two parents in the home.  It is not meant to be done alone.  And I am angry that I am not home with my baby and that I am stretching myself thin and always being so tired and not being present.  I worry.  I worry about everything.  I worry about time and money and food and clothes and cars and phones and decisions.  I worry so much that I forget to be present.  I forget to enjoy today and now.  I forget that I can be strong and even though this parenting job is not meant to be done alone, I can do it.


And oh my gosh, every tear, every ounce of stress, every bit of pain I feel is so worth it.  I love my daughter more than I could ever hope to put in words.  She is the most beautiful, silly, loving, frustrating, smart, amazing little girl I could imagine.  She is everything I always dreamed of in a child.  And as often as I feel lost and tired and angry and like I am failing, she makes me feel the opposite.  Two days ago we were in the car and I was crying.  Tears streaming down my cheeks.  I can't even tell you what I was crying about.  I cry a lot, but rarely ever in front of Ayla.  From the backseat I heard, "HI!"  I looked back and she had the most concerned look on her face.  The way she looked over my face broke my heart.  She said it again, "HI!"  I smiled and said, "Hi baby!" through my sobs.  She said, "I wuv you!" with that concerned look still on her face, never losing eye contact.  In Relief Society we learned about angels in disguise and about how people are there for you when you need them even if they don't understand why.  I know that Ayla was concerned and she knew that something was wrong and that she didn't know what else to do but say hi and tell me that she loves me.  That was all I needed.  My little girl that I worry so much about taking care of was worrying about taking care of me.  A little angel in disguise.

And speaking of angels, I can't say enough about Kyle.  He keeps me grounded.  He gives me hope and he makes me laugh and he makes me forget my long list of worries without even trying.  He literally makes my problems melt away.  Sometimes I am stubborn and sometimes I stay grumpy and I fight it, but I don't know why.  When I just let myself be me with him I feel happier and more care-free than I have felt in years.  I feel like I am the person that I want to be; the person that I am but haven't been for so long.  He literally makes me want to be the very best version of myself that I can possibly be.  And there are days like today that I bring myself down so much.  I tell myself that I'm not good enough for him and that I am holding him back and that I seriously don't deserve someone so wonderful.  I wish I wouldn't do that.  I wish I would always let myself be happy and care-free with him.  All I want is to make him feel the same way.

I love him so much for showing me that people can be good and can be trusted and for reminding me what it's like to be treated well.  He makes me feel special.  Sometimes I don't even know how to respond to how amazingly sweet he is to me.  I've not ever been treated as well as he treats me.  And the way that he treats Ayla... I know that he makes her feel special and feel loved and I couldn't ask for anything more for my little girl.


What is my point with this post?  I just wanted an outlet.  I wanted to type it and read it back and maybe lift a little bit of weight from my shoulders.  More like make a little more room in my head.


I wanted to remind myself that my life IS hard and I CAN admit that, even though I try so very hard to keep it to myself and carry that burden of stress and shame of failure by myself, I need to let it out sometimes or I will be buried in it.


Ayla is awake now.  Her nap was too long and too late.  Even though I am exhausted and want nothing more to go to bed I am going to get in the car and we are going to get ice cream.  After all, I didn't get dinner because like I said before, I am a terrible cook and I ruined the dinner I tried to make for Kyle and I.


I am going to drag myself out of my bed after hours of tears and heartache over bumps and detours.  There's no going back down those roads, I can only move forward from here so really, there's no use in crying over it, eh?


But even when I cry it's understandable because I'm only 2 in mommy years and all two-year-olds have melt-downs.

"Being a mother is learning about strengths you didn't know you had, and dealing with fears you didn't know existed."  -Linda Wooten


*I apologize for the run-on sentences and fragmented thoughts in this post.  It just felt right!