snow!

a few years ago it snowed in mesa. i mean, it really snowed. we even built a snowman. it was such a phenomenon. i hear it snowed in mesa again today. unfortunately we weren't there to enjoy it. instead we're in utah...playing in the 18 feet of snow that dumped last night. i guess i don't feel so bad.

believe

It's been a month since I last blogged. Now that, I cannot believe. Where is the time going? And why do I feel like I never have enough of it?

I have a lot to try and catch up on...but I simply could not wait to tell about our magical experience of two nights ago.

The morning started off like any other, with the search for our elf, Clarence.

Every night he flies home to Santa, and reports to the boss (Santa) his observations of each day - whether the children have been naughty or nice.

Magically each morning, and before the children awake, he is back, and in a new hiding place. This particular morning, however, something was different.

He was indeed hiding in a new spot, but he also held in his arms, a letter.

A personal letter to the children.

From Santa.

Santa Claus had invited them to the North Pole, and also enclosed in the envelop, were 4 round trip tickets to hop aboard the Polar Express.

Somehow Clarence had managed to sneak the packages (that St. Nick had sent) under the tree without waking the kids.

That Santa, wow, he's just too kind.

Each kid was given a pair of festive holiday pajamas, a soft fleece robe, cozy Christmas socks, and a pair of slippers.

Excited doesn't even describe the way the children felt.

Especially Ruby.

Asher might be a little young to really understand all this Christmas excitement, but he was feeding off of Ruby's energy, and before too long, he too was bouncing off the walls.

We left late in the afternoon and drove for three hours.

It was fun to see the temperature gradually drop as we got closer and closer Flagstaff, which was about 30 miles from the train depot.

It's been in the low to mid 80's here in mesa - unseasonably warm for this time of year- so the 40 degree weather was nice (but only for a few hours), and authenticated the whole North Pole experience.

No laughing, it felt really cold to us.

After handing the conductor our tickets, and getting settled in our seats, we were off...zipping and whirling - faster than the speed of light - to the North Pole.

On our trip, we were served cookies and hot cocoa, sang Christmas carols, listened to the Polar express story...

and the best part of all, was when Santa visited with each child and gave them all a special believe bell.

My kids were beside themselves.

It brought me so much joy to see the both of them so happy.

That's what Christmas is all about, isn't it?

It's about joy, and peace.

It's about laughter and smiles, and gifts from the heart.

It's about families.

It's about being together.

It's about love.

It's about believing...and I'm not just talking about Santa here.

It's about believing in the One who gave us the greatest gift of all.

The Savior, who gave us His life.

That very act enabled us to receive every gift our Father in Heaven has in store for his children...

even peace, joy, happiness, laughter, family togetherness, love, and ultimately - eternal life.

I hope you can feel the love this holiday season.

His love.

I know you will,

if you truly believe.

sew much love...

If you have ever served in the Young Women's program, or are at all familiar with how YW is run, you'll know all about the two big evening programs that happen every year. First you've got New Beginnings - held at the beginning of each year, and then there's Young Women in Excellence, at the end of the year. Since I've been in YW, I've been involved in planning and executing eight of these special evening programs. Eight. That's a lot. Let's see if I can remember them all. First we did a Movie Theme, then A Night at the Museum, Sailing Home to Safe Harbor, Mission Possible,a News Broadcast...next there was For such a Time as This, The Lord's Army Wants YOU!, and most recently, Patterning Your Life After Personal Progress...Check all all the fun pictures below.This one was fun.We brought in all things "sewing"...notions, fabrics, threads, buttons, patterns, and even a perfect turquoise vintage sewing machine (thanks Diana).We had several quilts on display, and an adorable mini dress garland strewn around the room.Our Young Women's president gave the best talk, and put together an amazing slideshow of everything we've done the past year.We gave each girl her own sewing kit - with a tag that readWe Love You "Sew" Much (Kind of dippy, I know).Sarah made all the girls their very own patriarchal blessing holder (very special).And the evening concluded with some of the most delicious cupcakes I have ever tasted, thanks to Shannon.
Sew perfect.

Each of these evenings necessitated hours of hard work and preparation.They were planned with only the girls' best interest in mind.They were carried out with love;andeach evening turned out to be unique and fun in it's own special way.
I don't know what I'll do with myself the day they release me from Young Women's.As I sat there on Wednesday night, and stared into each of their beautiful faces, I couldn't help but feel overcome with emotion.We have been through a lot these past four years.Laughs.Tears.Adventures.Fun. Learning moments.Teaching moments.
And, most importantly, love...
Sew much Love.

that freaked me out...

I don't know what the deal is, but it seems like every 3 or 4 months,
we find one of these little creeps somewhere in our house...

Today I found this one just strolling along our bathroom floor.
I made Ruby stand by him (but not too close) to make sure he didn't get away from us, while I ran and grabbed my camera.

I had never in my life seen one this small.

I snagged a little prop for the photo shoot - a dime - just to demonstrate how miniscule he really was.

I mean, it literally would have taken 10 of these little ant-sized scorps to cover that one dime.

(Quite the contrast from the time we found a scorpion in our kitchen, so huge, it would have required roughly 10 dimes to cover just him.

Luckily, John killed that one, I would have never been brave enough to do that.)

Our poor little bathroom friend hadn't a clue of his unfortunate fate.

Immediately following his 30 seconds of fame and paparazzi,

He was mercilessly crushed beneath my shoe.

I was so freaked out while I was taking his picture, I had all these images of him leaping atop my lens and then stinging my eye. I know. Pretty funny.

But I do feel like some of my fears were justifiable, though.

First of all, those baby scorpions are known to release more venom in their sting than the full-grown ones do.

Secondly, their size enables them to hide in obscure places, thus making them harder to pinpoint.

(That six foot long scorpion, hanging out in our kitchen, was not too difficult to identify.)

Because he was so small, I keep imagining finding more, like in my or my kids' shoe, or nestled into the carpet fibers where we wrestle and play on the floor...

or in one of our beds.

Oh that would make me so mad to find one in our beds.

And, finally, something that has haunted me all day...

If we found a baby...

doesn't that mean there could be more babies?

and a momma somewhere?

Those female scorpions are known to give birth to somewhere around 100 baby scorpions.

Gross. Gross. Gross.

Ahhhhh, I am so freaked out right now.

I tried to remain calm.

I really did... for Ruby's sake

My fear must have evidenced in my behavior, though,

because all day long Ruby has repeated over and over,

Mom, that really freaked me out.

That scorpion really, really freaked me out.

It's a good thing Asher was napping through the whole ordeal,

He most likely would have picked it up with his fingers,

and popped it in his mouth.

in a year

A lot can happen (or change) in a year. Wouldn't you agree? Last year at this time I was pretty much in the best shape of my life. I had just decided to run a race...my first race ever. Just hours after signing up for the race (which is a skin cancer awareness event), I had received word from my Dr's office that my biopsy had come back...the only two words I remember hearing from that conversation were, malignant melanoma. Suddenly this race I would be running, became more than just a race...it became my race. My cause. In fact, as I was running along the course that day, I felt like I was the only one out there, seriously, like this race belonged only to me. Still, to this day, I feel like the whole event was planned and organized...just for me.In fact, several months back, I went to the website to double check the date for this year, only to discover that my picture was on the front page of the site!My race, I tell ya.Shortly after the race, the director gave all the participants the opportunity to submit their "race day story". The winner would receive free registration for the following year. Because I not only had such a wonderful experience running the race, but also had felt such an affinity to the race and it's cause, I was excited to have the opportunity to share my story. Of course I was even more excited to learn that I had won!To say that I have been excited about this year's race, would be an understatement. I have been thinking about it, and dreaming about it, and anticipating it, for a whole year now. I actually told myself awhile back that the only thing in this world that would stop me from running it...was if by some huge miracle...I became pregnant. (Normally even that wouldn't stop me from running a race, especially this race...but because I have cervical insufficiency, I have to be extremely cautious with regard to my level of activity during pregnancy. Running a race, would not be wise.) It was a huge surprise when we found out in September that I was actually pregnant. I feel ashamed even admitting this, but a few days after we found out, I thought about this race; and for a brief moment, I felt a twinge of sadness knowing that it wouldn't be happening for me this year. Thinking about what I would be trading it for (a new baby), however, made it all worthwhile, and I was ok with that.
Here's what I'm not ok with. It's been a whole year since my race. I'm fat and out of shape, and I have a baby bump...but no baby. I won't be running the race, and it's not because I'm pregnant,but rather, recovering from a d&c- a procedure which removed my long-awaited and much- anticipated (but inviable) pregnancy. (Can you tell I've been in bed too long and had too much time to feel sorry for myself and my situation?)
I'm happy, however, thinking about getting myself back in shape and being able to run the race next year...unless of course, I'm pregnant- which would make me even happier.
A lot can happen (or change) in a year.

ps. Go to shunthesun.org to see our picture...hurry before they re-design the page, and we'll be gone forever.

thank you

I go in tomorrow for my D&C.
I was actually scheduled to get it done last week, but on the drive home from my Dr's appointment, I got a sick feeling inside.
It wasn't really about the procedure at all, but had everything to do with the Dr. who would be performing it.
She was so rude to me. So completely insensitive.
She questioned and challenged me as to why I didn't take the cytotec (the pill to induce miscarriage) which they had prescribed me the day before.
I explained to her that I had already been through enough emotionally with this whole ordeal; and that I just didn't want to have to experience any more undue pain - emotional or physical. (I know there's no baby in there, but I am 13 weeks pregnant. My Uterus is enlarged, the gestational sac is big. I can only imagine the amount of blood and tissue that I would be passing, and therefore having to look at. Not to mention the severe cramping and pain that she had warned me about).
I told her that I really just wanted to go to sleep, and wake up, and know that it was done.
Just like that.
She seemed to almost mock me for my cowardice.
I felt crushed afterwards.
Crushed and sick inside.
I called John on the phone and he asked why we were even going to her.
At that point I just wanted it to be over with...even if it meant having that heartless woman take care of it.
I hung up with John, and headed for home.
It wasn't until I was stopped at a stoplight, that I finally came to my senses. Why in the world am I giving this woman my patronage?
She clearly doesn't have my best interest at heart.
I never felt, through any of her dealings with me, that she genuinely cared about me and what I was going through; and although I was anxious to just be done with it, I decided I would be willing to wait a few more days if it meant I could be in better hands.
I decided to call the Dr. who performed the laparoscopic surgery to remove my ectopic pregnancy three years ago.
He, of course, was happy to help me out.
When I met with him on Wednesday, he was completely understanding and full of compassion...as was his entire staff.
It was a complete night and day contrast.
He ordered a couple more HCG quants, as well as an ultrasound...wanting to be sure for himself that this pregnancy had no chance of surviving.
We met today to review all the results.
Of course, we all knew that this was not a viable pregnancy, but the fact that he was giving it every benefit of the doubt, made me feel like he really cared.
I, for the first time in weeks, felt validated.
I can now face tomorrow with a calm heart...knowing that I am absolutely in good hands.
(Let's just hope I make it until tomorrow, with all the cramping and spotting/bleeding we've been dealing with all weekend.)

Ok, now that was a lot of rambling.
The real purpose of this post was to thank all of you for...
wow...
for everything.
Where do I even begin?
Thank you for the encouraging words, the tears, the cards and little notes, the gifts and heartfelt letters, the meals, the lunch dates, the sweet texts and blog comments, the prayers and fasts on our behalf, the phone calls, the flowers, the cookies, the bread (x3), the emails and facebook messages, the watching of my kids...and for your unconditional love, support, and friendship.
You all know who you are.
I feel so richly blessed.

Thank you...from the bottom of my heart.

the best christmas ever

I took the kids to Chick-fil-A last night.
I noticed that were advertising for their Peppermint Chocolate Chip Milkshake.
Have you ever tried it?
It's amazing.
Last year I wasn't able to order one because John and I were doing the no sugar thing...so as soon as I saw that they were offering it already for the season, I knew I had to have one.
The first sip was like magic.
With it came all the tastes, smells, sights, and sounds...of Christmas.
It was like I just got this itch...you know, the Christmas bug.
Then I got an idea! An awful idea! YES I GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!
Remember this post from three years ago?
Well today I threw it all out the window.
I discounted everything I have ever believed in and preached about with regard to the holidays...
and we decorated for Christmas.
It's the first time in my life that I have ever taken down Halloween, and put up Christmas, on the same day.
While we worked, we broke out the Christmas music, burned a yummy pine candle, and even read Christmas stories before putting the kids to bed.
I have been in desperate need of some cheer the past couple of weeks, and (who knew?) this was just what I needed.
For the longest time, well since we lost mom a week before Christmas, I haven't had the best feelings about the holidays, particularly Christmas.
It's taken several years (and a couple of kids), to once again see Christmas for what it is...
Beautiful, Magical, and Exciting.
In fact, I think it's safe to say that this is the first year since before her passing, that decorating for Christmas hasn't felt burdensome and wearing.
It was actually something I anticipated and relished in.

I think this will be the best Christmas ever...

I can just feel it in my bones.

broken heart

I had a Dr.'s appointment on Monday.
They did another ultrasound.
Still no baby.
No heartbeat.
I pretty much expected that result; but for some reason, when reality actually set in, it still rocked my world pretty good.
Even though I tried to prepare myself for the worst, I was still hoping for a positive outcome.
I had read about, and heard of so many women who's babies, for one reason or another, didn't show up on the ultrasound until just before their scheduled d&c...
some well into their 2nd trimester.
One woman I read about didn't see her baby until 18 weeks! She was told at about 10 weeks - because there was no baby to be found - that she was going to miscarry. She decided to let it happen naturally. She then ended up waiting about 8 weeks before she finally called her Dr. for some help. He had her come in for another ultrasound to see what was going on in there, and that's when they found her baby...measuring 18 weeks gestation!
Obviously stranger things have happened.
And one can't discount the fact that God is a God of miracles.
He is all-powerful, all-knowing, and omnipotent.
Surely there is no limit to His capabilities and aptitude.
I guess I was just hoping for a marvel like that in my situation.
My sweet friend, Syd, said it perfectly in a letter she wrote me.
"The Lord has the Power to calm the storm. But, at times, He lets the storm rage, and calms His child."
I loved this, as it has brought me so much comfort the past few weeks.
It's true, He's the master of all. At any moment, He can calm our life's storms, our trials, our sorrows.
He simply speaks, and it is done.
However, for reasons we often don't understand (but He does, and that's all that matters), He'll allow the storms to rage, to toss us to and fro...
but hasn't He promised that He will not leave us comfortless?
I believe what He says, and know from personal experience, that This promise is true. I look back to some of the heaviest storms I have faced (primarily losing mom, and then my baby boy, Isaac), and because I fastened to my anchor, who is Christ, I was able to weather these storms.
And not just weather the storms, but actually come out on top...
Become a better person.
A little bit more faithful...more believing, more compassionate, and stronger.
The Lord has His purposes...I will never doubt His dealings with me.
I know that He only has my best interest in mind.
I actually feel like great things are in store for my family.
I had hoped that it was this.
This pregnancy.
This baby.
But my faith is not the least bit shaken because things didn't turn out exactly how I had hoped they would.
If anything, I have learned that I need to work a lot harder at aligning my will with the Lord's.
Something that has proven to be more difficult, for me at least, because of how badly I wanted this.


The Dr. told me on Monday that my body was holding on to this pregnancy, and now needed something to help it along.
Looks like two things were aligned - my body and my heart...neither wanting to let go.

When we got home, and Ruby saw me crying, she asked "did they not find our baby again mom?"
"No, they didn't, Ruby."
"But that's been three times, mom. Why can't they find our baby after three times?"
I hated having to tell her the truth. "Well sweetheart, It looks like our baby wasn't quite ready to come. Heavenly Father took our baby home, and when the time is right for our family, He'll send us the sweet spirit we've been waiting for." (Did I do ok? I mean, how do you explain something like that to a four year old? A four year old who has been beyond excited for another sibling. A four year old who never utters a prayer without first and foremost thanking Heavenly Father for our baby. A four year old who announces to every stranger on the street that her mommy has a baby in her tummy. I hope I did ok.)
"Oh" is all she said. Then she asked, "mom can we pretend that you're at the dr's office, and that I'm your dr?".
"Sure sweetie. That sounds fun."
"Ok, first I need to listen to your heart" She held a stethoscope to my chest and then said something that absolutely blew me away. "Hmmmm...it sounds like your heart is broken".
My eyes filled with tears. "Wow doc...you're spot on".
She then said something that made me chuckle. "Yes, and what you need to do to for your broken heart is stop eating sugar. You eat way too much sugar. You need to start eating more vegetables, pears, and cantaloupe".


If only the cure for a broken heart was really that easy.

how's this for muchness?

For Halloween this year, we went with the Alice in Wonderland theme - Tim Burton style - obviously.

For those who have yet to see it (or for those of you who never will), here's what the real characters look like...


Ruby was dying to be The White Queen, and requested that I go as her sister, The Red Queen. John, we knew right away, would have to be the Mad Hatter; and we all thought it would be funny to have Asher and Dix dress as the two Tweedles - Dee and Dum (most would agree, they were a hysterical little doublet). The ironic thing about our whole ensemble, is that we didn't even have an Alice. I then had an idea to order a little Alice figurine and secure it to John's, er excuse me, the Hatter's hat...rather fitting, we thought since she rides a great deal on his hat in the movie. Just trying to stay true to the storyline...I mean, what's Wonderland without the Alice?

happy halloween

Here's a little sneak peek...

























I have a bazillion more photos to post, but I'm tired exhausted...so I think I'll wait until tomorrow to unveil the rest.Happy Halloween.

perfection

It's 91 degrees out.
The kids and I just returned from the pool.
It was Ruby's suggestion, and I thought it sounded like a perfect idea.
Wow, perfection it was.
Because the pool isn't heated, it was a bit cool for my liking, but the hot tub was perfect...not too hot (which is how I like it).
After soaking in the bubbles a while, and getting ourselves wet, we pulled up some lounge chairs and relaxed in the sun.
The sun was pretty bright and intense, and I started to worry because none of us had any sunscreen on.
So we moved our chairs into a nice shady area on the south side of the jacuzzi, and just lounged.
It was absolutely perfect.
The air was not hot, nor cold, just...
perfectly perfect.
Of course Asher couldn't lie still for long, but I enjoyed watching him from my lounge chair as he rode his tricycle around the pool again, and again, and again. The birds were chirping and the delicate leaves from the lush green trees (remember we don't have autumn here in Arizona...so yes, the trees are still very green) were rustling from the gentleness of the breeze.
The sky was blue. Very blue.
The water was still and perfectly clear.
As I lay there in the solitude, I couldn't help but ponder and reflect upon the exquisiteness of my surroundings.
How anyone can live on this beautiful planet, and still deny the existence of God, is beyond me.
For just as the prophet Alma from the Book of Mormon, testified to Korihor, the antichrist, all things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator.
As I lay there enjoying the perfection all around me, I said a silent prayer.
I thanked my Father for my surrounding beauties, which included, of course, my two babies.
I thanked Him for the gift of peace, which in all reality, is the gift of His Holy Spirit.
It's a beautiful thing, in such a troubled world, to be able to feel complete and absolute peace.
I could have stayed in that moment forever, and would have, if I didn't have to fight my eyelids from closing.
Can you imagine how horrible that could have been?
A day of perfection ending in tragedy because mom fell asleep at the pool.
I knew when I started to drift that it was time to call it a day.
The kids hopped on the tricycle (Ruby always drives and Asher rides on the back. It is the cutest sight in the world. I'll have to dig up a picture...I know I have one somewhere.) And I followed in their wake, dragging my bare feet through the recently watered lawn; and then turning around to see my trail of wet footprints marking the clean white pavement.
Perfection.
Taking time out from busy lives and schedules...to simply stop, and listen, and enjoy, and appreciate - to smell the roses, so to speak - is nothing short of perfection.
Try it sometime.
You will love it.

And then eat lunch on your kitchen floor. That's what we did.

hApPy haLLoWeEn wEeK

The kids are absolutely ecstatic about their new matching Halloween pajamas.



Oh wait, now that's better...

One week until Halloween!

it's not over...until it's over

Our ultrasound last Friday didn't go at all how we had hoped. Still no baby to be found. At 9 weeks and 1 day, according to the doctor, there is no doubt the baby would be seen. This is a miscarriage she told us over and over again. What about my gestational sac? What was it measuring? We asked. Oh the gestational sac is big. She said. What about her hormone levels? John asked. Oh hormone levels are high...But there is no baby. This is a miscarriage.I didn't matter how many times she repeated it, I just couldn't believe her. I didn't want to believe her. And I didn't believe her.
She then wanted to go over my pregnancy history. I obliged.
So you lost your first baby at 23 weeks?
Yes.
Was this due to cervical insufficiency?
Yes.
And your second pregnancy? Looks like you made it full-term with a cerclage?
Yes, but not without complications.
And your 3rd pregnancy? You had an ectopic?
Yes.
Did they have to remove your tube?
Yes.
Okay, and now this is your 4th pregnancy?
Yes.
You have had nothing easy.
No. And (I pause because the tears are clouding my vision and impairing my speech) And it took us three years to get this one.
Three years? Wow. And it's a miscarriage. I'm sorry. It's a miscarriage.

I still didn't believe her.

She then presented me with three options.

1) We could schedule a D&C.

2) She could prescribe a pill that would induce the miscarriage.

Or

3) I could wait for it to happen on it's own.

I couldn't make a decision. I didn't want to have to make a decision. I just sat there.

And then I felt something. Something that told me to just wait.

The doctor, I could tell, didn't agree with my decision. She told me that she's had patients wait up to 6 weeks for their miscarriage, and that the emotional pain of just waiting for it to happen would be awful.

She also went on to explain that the further along you are in the pregnancy, the more terrible the miscarriage, and therefore, the physical pain is awful as well.

I didn't care anymore what she had to say.

All I knew is that it was not time to end this pregnancy. And the only thing that made any sense to me,

was the inner feeling I had....

to just wait.

Now I realize that all signs point to the fact that I'm losing this baby, this pregnancy...but I won't believe it until it actually happens.

I'm still holding out for a miracle.

I know that the Lord can do it if it's His will.

He knows the desires of my heart.

I have Faith in Him.

I trust in Him.

And I'm completely devoted to Him. No matter what.

I submit fully to His will,

and I know that whatever happens,

He has great things in store for me and for my family.

When doors close in our lives, when we're faced with sorrow, heartbreak, failure, disappointment, and adversity, I think one of the best things we can do, besides clinging to our faith, is to be grateful. To have an attitude of gratitude. To recognize all the things with which the Lord has blessed us. It's so humbling; and surprisingly, helps put everything into proper perspective.

I tell you, after receiving the news on Friday, all I wanted to do was to run and grab my two babies and hold them and never let them go. I felt so grateful to my Heavenly Father for blessing me with them, my two angels. And for John. He is my soul mate, and my best friend...and the most perfect spouse I could ever dream of.

My heart is full of thanks...I have so much to be grateful for.

Somehow I'm at peace with my situation.

I don't sit and worry and wait and wonder when the miscarriage is going to happen...

instead, I wonder if it even will.

I cling to my faith, I cling to my Savior, I cling to my family, and I focus on my blessings.

I am at peace.

It's not over...until it's over.

Pray for us some more. Please.

sunday morning

I woke up this morning to the sweetest sound on the monitor.
My children talking amongst themselves.
Ruby was being cute and motherly...and Asher, well, we're still trying to make sense of the things that come from his mouth.
Ruby seems to understand him better than anyone.
Since John had already left for his Sunday morning meetings, I figured it was pointless to lie there in our great big bed...all alone.
So I decided to go and snuggle up to my kids in their room.
I opened the door to one of the most tender sights my eyes have ever beheld.
My two babies.
Snuggled in bed together.
Holding hands under the covers.

Life doesn't get much better than this.

waiting on the Lord...

I was really nervous for my ultrasound today. I've been really nervous this entire pregnancy. The whole thing has felt almost too good to be true. You know the feeling, I'm sure. You've waited for something for so long, you've begged for it, you've pleaded. You've dreampt about it, and daydreamed about it, and then done everything within your own power and ability to make it happen...and then, when you it finally does, you almost don't believe it. It feels like a dream. You wonder what you did to finally deserve it, and you're worried you might do something to ruin it...you're worried about waking up from this dream that feels, well...too good to be true.
We took the kids with us for the appointment. Normally that wouldn't be a good idea, but because John was coming along, and because it was just an ultrasound, and should have been quick, I figured it wouldn't hurt to bring them along.
The appointment was almost a half hour away, so on the drive, I pulled out my Bible and began reading aloud. John and I are taking part in an Old Testament challenge this year (issued by my brother, Matt); and sadly, we've fallen a bit behind. In order to get back on track, we decided we better just take the thing with us wherever we go. So as I was reading aloud from the Book of Psalms, I came across a particular verse, and something strange happened. It was as if the Spirit told me to remember the scripture - that I'd need to refer back to it at a later date. Without even questioning the counsel I was given, I took a mental picture of where that particular verse was located on the page, and then continued reading.
Shortly afterward, we arrived to the medical center. The kids fought over the elevator buttons, but somehow we still managed to make it to the 5th floor. My heart was racing. It didn't help that we had to wait awhile before they called us back. I was nervous and just wanted to get it over with. Really all I wanted, was to see that little heartbeat. They finally called us back, and almost immediately after the technician began the ultrasound, I knew something was wrong. We all stared intently at the monitor, but instead of seeing a tiny bean shaped being with a little beating heart, we saw nothing. Blackness. An empty gestational sac. No matter how many times the technician went over the area, it didn't change the fact that there was nothing. And what made matters worse, was hearing my little Ruby repeat, (what seemed 1,000 times) Mom, where's the baby? I don't see the baby. Mom, where's our baby? I can't see anything at all. My eyes began to sting. My heart began to burn. And there was nothing I could do to stop the flood gates. I cried and cried...so hard that my face was contorted, and I couldn't speak when I opened my mouth to say something. Just sobs. And gasps.
They sent us out to the waiting room until the doctor came to get us. John got me a handful of tissue. I did my best to compose myself.
The doctor explained to us that it was really too early to know what was happening, but that right now, we were looking at three different possibilities.

1) I was in the process of miscarrying.
2) I have what is called a blighted ovum. It's when the fertilized egg implants in the uterus, but never continues developing after the 6th week, and is then absorbed into the uterus. What's sad is that you continue showing signs and experiencing all the symptoms of a normal, healthy pregnancy.
3) I'm still pregnant. Just not as far along as we figured. I was supposed to be at 8 weeks and 1 day, but the gestational sac was measuring at 6 weeks and 6 days. I know the first day of my last menstrual cycle was August 12th, but is it possible I could have ovulated a week and 2 days late?

Of course, we were hoping for the 3rd scenario, but It was hard to remain optimistic when the other two seemed to be staring me in the face...and so much more likely.

I cried some more. I cried a lot. I cried the whole way home from the Dr. office. I cried so hard when I called my dad, that it's a wonder he even made sense of what I was saying. I cried on the way to the lab where I was sent to get a beta hcg quantitative (and where I will also go on Monday and Wednesday for the same test - a test which will determine if my hcg hormone levels are doubling every 48 hours like they're supposed to). In fact, I had been crying so hard on the way to the lab, that once we got there, I opted to not remove my sunglasses. Even when we saw our good friends, Ruby and George, at the same lab, I still couldn't remove my glasses. I knew that if they asked me what was wrong, I would cry even harder. My friends, Amber and Diana, both sent texts while I was at the lab, wondering how the appointment went. Not knowing what to say to either of them, or how to respond...made me cry.
Poor John, I know he needed to get back to work, but seeing me in that condition, well, I don't think he felt it would be right to leave my side. He asked me if it would be okay if he sent out an email to our family members, requesting that they all rally their faith, and participate in a special fast on our behalf. I believe that there is power in numbers, and especially when a group of people fast and pray for a common purpose. So naturally, I consented.
I lay on the bed and cried while John composed the email. When he was through, he asked me if I'd like a blessing. I couldn't believe that I hadn't thought of asking him on my own. I'll admit, I had been lacking a certain amount of faith.
As John laid his hands on my head, the power of the Lord's Spirit was immediate. I was reminded of how much I love the Priesthood, and how grateful I was that my John was worthy enough to exercise the Power he had been endowed with - the power to bless, the power to comfort, the power to heal - the Lord's power. As he began to speak, it felt as if his words came directly from the Heavens - I know that they did.
Among other things, he blessed me with peace and comfort. I was actually promised certain blessings, contingent upon my faith. I was told to then have faith, and to exercise that faith. I was counseled to develop a deeper relationship with my Savior, to really come to know Him. I was told to have hope, and to trust in His power. I was even blessed to be able to sleep at night, which was huge because ever since I found out I was pregnant, I have struggled to have a full and peaceful night's rest.
I wish I could recall every word of the blessing, it was so beautiful and powerful. Maybe it's not really necessary that I remember it all. The parts that do stick out in my mind, I believe, are the things that Heavenly Father really wanted me to hear, to know, and to remember.
When John finished, I was crying so hard. I was hugging him so tight and crying so hard that I couldn't breathe. This time it wasn't a cry of despair though, it was a cry of joy...tears of gratitude. Gratitude to my Savior for comforting me and blessing me with the peace that comes only through Him and because of His atoning sacrifice - He suffered so that I wouldn't have to.
After the blessing I felt refreshed and renewed. I was excited to start working on my personal relationship with my Savior, and to begin exercising my faith as my blessing admonished. I opened my scriptures, and upon doing so, I immediately thought of the verse in Psalms which we had read that morning on the way to our appointment. I couldn't recall what the scripture had said, but I knew exactly where to find it. I flipped through the pages until I got to the 27th Psalm.

"Wait on the Lord: be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord." -Psalms 27:14

Wow...if I didn't ever need that exact scripture in that exact moment. I felt like it was written specifically for me. As I studied the scripture in depth and began to cross reference it, I was even more blown away at how it pertained to me and to my situation. To me, the term "wait on the Lord" implies having patience in Him, to trust in His timing. Although this is true, I learned, as I studied, that it actually means so much more. To wait means to have Faith. I was told in my blessing to have Faith, and to exercise that faith. Definitely not a coincidence. I then cross-referenced a scripture in Doctrine and Covenants which gave me an even deeper understanding of the term "wait on the Lord".

"Verily I say unto you my friends, fear not, let your hearts be comforted; yea, rejoice evermore, and in everything give thanks;
2 Waiting patiently on the Lord, for your prayers have entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth, and are recorded with this seal and testament—the Lord hath sworn and decreed that they shall be granted.
3 Therefore, he giveth this promise unto you, with an immutable covenant that they shall be fulfilled; and all things wherewith you have been afflicted shall work together for your good, and to my name’s glory, saith the Lord." -D&C 98:1-3

This scripture made me realize, and actually know without a doubt, that the Lord has heard my cries and that He will grant my desires unto me. That all my afflictions shall work together for my good, and to the glory of the Lord.

Almost never before in my life have I felt like particular verses of scripture were written just for me. I was in tears (I cry a lot), but once again, these were happy tears. Hopeful tears.

We'll go in for another ultrasound next Friday. I've determined, in the meantime, to remain optimistic. I know that my God is a God of miracles. The Lord caused the blind to see, the deaf to hear...and even raised the dead. Surely He has the power to further this pregnancy if it's His will to do so. I have faith and hope that this is part of His design for us.

Please keep us in your prayers.

my bitty bean...

Dear Baby Mine,

I was a little disappointed this week. I had a doctor's appointment that I had been really looking forward to and rather anxious about...mainly because I wanted to make sure you were growing and developing properly.
I really wanted to hear that heartbeat of yours.
They had me take a pregnancy test while I was there. I know it's just common procedure, but after taking three of them on my own at home, I was pretty sure we hadn't been mistaken about your inception.
They also informed me of my due date. Of course, I already knew that too...haven't I practically been counting down the days to your birth?
After finally performing a yearly exam, the doctor pretty much sent us on our way...but not before your daddy could ask,

Wait, don't we get to hear the heartbeart?

Not today, she said, we don't like to even try before 8 weeks.

She told us that it can be tricky to find that early on, and it's just not worth getting everyone all worked up over.
I could see her point...but I still walked out of there feeling pretty disheartened. The good news is that we get to go back tomorrow for an ultrasound. They say you're about the size of a kidney bean right now; and that's exactly what I imagine you'll look like when we see you. An itty bitty bean...
with a heartbeat no less.
Happy 8 weeks, baby.

I love you so.

Mom

my bitsy blueberry

Dear Baby Mine,

This week just flew by.
If my whole pregnancy could go by this fast, I'd be one happy mommy.
I am just so excited to meet you, and having to wait until May...
well, that seems like an eternity away.
You've been busy growing, little one. In fact, you've doubled in size since last week. Right now you're about the size of a blueberry. Your hands and feet are starting to develop. You also have little eyelid folds, and the tip of your tiny nose is beginning to take form. I just imagine myself kissing that cute little nose of yours...and those tiny fingers and toes. It almost seems too good to be true.
I'll be seeing the doctor on Tuesday. I'm anxious. I just want everything to be perfect, you know? Being able to hear your little heartbeat will be everything.
Heaven, I tell ya.
Happy 7 weeks, baby.

I love you so.

Mom

jammy day

Not quite sure how I feel about today. It was a doozie I tell ya. Have you ever had to go a night and a day without water? I don't really recommend it. I was out last night and got a text from John with some good news and bad. The good news was that he had fixed the toilet which had been out of service since Friday. Hallelujah. As for the bad?...Well, in the process, the valve which controls our main water source had broken. It was way too late to call a plumber, so we just had to make do until this morning. I guess I never really realized how much I rely on running water...until it's taken away. You can go to the bathroom, but can't flush the toilet or wash your hands. Brushing your teeth isn't very enjoyable without water. No morning showers. Couldn't wash the kids' strawberries for breakfast, or asher's grimy hands and face after he had eaten. What just about did me in, though, was when I caught him swishing his hands in the toilet...the same toilet we had all peed in, but couldn't flush. I swooped him up, lathered his hands and arms with soap, and turned on the faucet...to nothing. Oh yeah. No water.

Hand sanitizer, baby wipes, and disposable disinfectant cloths can only go so far.

There's definitely something to be said for good old fashioned soap and water.

The plumber said he'd be out between 10 and noon...but we all know the story, they say between 10 and 12, what they really mean is one. Frustrating.

By the time he left, I was too exhausted to even care that we had water, and just went straight to bed. We all woke up around 4:30ish, and by that time, I just couldn't see the sense in even taking a shower. I declared the day a jammy day, and the kids and I just basically lay around as if it were 7 in the morning. What a waste.

Thinking back, I guess there were a few exciting moments disbursed in our otherwise colorless day. Asher, whom John just pegged as "the tornado" (it's a perfect name for him, I can't believe I didn't come up with it on my own) completely ran amuck while I was talking with my friend Tara on the phone. Kids are pretty smart, they'll usually wait til mom is on the phone - distracted and somewhat vulnerable - to misbehave. They scream and cry and throw all sorts of fits - knowing full well that mom will stuff their faces with treats and snacks just to keep them quiet so that she can actually think while she converses. Ruby used to do that. Who am I kidding? She still totally does that. Well Asher, he's smart too, but in a different sort of way. He takes advantage of my diversion from him, to disappear and get into things. During the duration of my 20 minute phone call, I found him standing on the kitchen counter with a sharp carving knife in his hand, in my bedroom spraying aerosol hairspray on my dresser, and in the bathtub squirting conditioner all over his clothes, all over his head, and all over the shower walls. I was also on the phone when I caught him playing in the pee-water from the toilet. I later related the story to John, and that's when he dubbed Asher a tornado - which totally made me laugh...even though I really just wanted to cry.

Ruby put a little spin on the day, too, which explains why I posted the above photo. John normally takes her to school on his way to work; but since this morning was thrown off due to our plumbing issues, I volunteered to take her myself. I was in my jammies, of course, and was heading out the door, keys in hand...when Ruby said:

Ummmm mom, I don't think you can wear those, I noticed that they had a water spot down on the leg.

Oh really? I replied. Well, it's dry now, so I guess we're ok.

So you're going to wear those to take me to school?

Yes, Ruby, but I'll be staying in the car, remember? No one will even see me.

Ummmm, mom, Miss Arlene told us that our mommies and daddies are not allowed to drop us off in their jammies.

Since when did my little baby start growing up and becoming embarrassed of her mother?

I guess gone are the days I could do no wrong in her eyes.

I'm a little sad/ashamed to have admit that the highlight of my day was putting the children to bed.

But then I can't be too hard on myself, because if I hadn't put them to bed, I'd have never seen this.

And this I tell you...

just about melted my heart.

my little lentil

Dear Baby Mine,

Right now you're only about the size of a lentil. Yep, just 1/4 inch long.
How is it then, that your mommy is getting so big already?
My body is rapidly changing... my stomach is expanding, my waist is thickening.
Not looking pregnant at all, just pudgy. Like really pudgy.

It's also hard to believe that something so small could be the cause of so much worry and anxiety.
I worry about you. A lot. Maybe more than I should.
I lie awake for hours at night because of my over-anxiety for you.
It's just that we've waited so long for you, and now that you're here, well, I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you.
I think about you all the time, I pray for you every chance I get.
I hope you don't think I'm complaining.
I'd gladly do anything for you.
In fact, if getting you, dear baby, meant that I'd never sleep another ounce, and ended up gaining 200 pounds...well, I'd do it in a heartbeat.
For you. I would.
Speaking of heartbeats...I get to hear yours soon.
Make it strong for your daddy and me.

I love you so.

Mom

buzzzz

I thought it was pretty cute when John took it upon himself to curl Ruby's hair while I was away. What I didn't think was cute, however, was when he took it upon himself to shave Asher's head; and this time I was not out of town, but right there in the same room getting ready for church. The funny thing, is that John didn't even say a word, he just sat Asher up on our bathroom counter, and started buzzing him. By the time I realized what what going on, it was a split second too late. John had already shaved a strip going right down the middle of Asher's head. I was appalled. I screamed. But it was too late...and at that point, there was nothing I could do but let him finish what he had started, and hold back the tears as I watched clumps of Asher's hair fall to the ground below. I have no idea what possessed John to do that, especially without my accordance and consent. Now, I still think Asher is the most adorable thing on the planet, it just took me a few days to get used to the change. I think John learned a very valuable lesson from all of this, which is - curling irons make me happy...clippers? not so much.