Baby Born on I-15? I THINK NOT

This is going to be a long and detailed blog, but it is more for me than anyone else. I want to write down every moment, every feeling, every thought, before I forget. It was an insane night. A total roller coaster

Hope and her hubby both got into town late Friday night. I hadn’t felt anything going on down low, but I was also restricting myself to the couch, with the exception of going potty. I wanted to make sure this baby didn’t come while Hope was stuck on a train somewhere in Wyoming. So I rested, which was hard for me to do, and it made my restless legs a lot worse. I called her around 11pm and told her to rest easy, nothing exciting to report. The next day, Clark and I went out to lunch with Hope and her hubby. Texas Roadhouse folks… AMAZING. We had a great time like always, visiting and snapping pictures. Later that day, Hope and I dressed up and went out to do the first half of our photo shoot. I was lucky enough to have a friend willing to take the pictures, and we had a good time. I was relieved to have that done before the baby came. I could check it off my to-do list.

I went home, and took it easy the rest of the evening. Clark and I started talking about what we had going on, and we kept saying, “It would be really nice if the baby came…. like… tonight.”  He started his new job Monday, so it would really stink to go into labor late Sunday night. Hope’s husband had to head back to Illinois on Wednesday, so it would also really stink if the baby came the very next day and he missed it, after spending hundreds of dollars on an emergency flight out here… all for nothing. It would also really stink to go into labor on Friday or Saturday of next weekend, cuz that’s when we are scheduled to move. No time was convenient, except for right now. Dangit… my body was already 4 cm and 90%. It didn’t seem like it should take much to just get us going. So I did a few jumping jacks… I bounced on my bed for a few minutes… and nothing. So Clark went back to his online golf game. The girls were down for bed, our bags were all packed and waiting at the front door (just in case) and I just kept thinking, tonight would be really great.

I jumped on the computer and Googled “stripping your membranes.” Everything I found said after 37 weeks, if your body was already progressing, you could easily do this yourself at home to try to start contractions. Midwives seem to encourage it quite often. The process of stripping your membranes sounded a little gruesome. But my husband is a trooper and was willing to give it a shot. Around 8:30pm he washed his hands, put on sterile gloves, and gave it a shot. Ultimately he felt like he couldn’t feel what he was supposed to be feeling for, and he didn’t feel like it was working, so we quickly retired our efforts and didn’t think much more of it. I went to bed feeling a little discouraged about all the inconvenient times this baby could possibly be born. I fell asleep around 9pm, and started feeling things working down low somewhere in my sleep between 9pm and 11pm. I was aware of the contractions that were going on, but they were similar to what I was used to, and I ignored them, knowing they were just gonna get me excited for no reason. Between the hour of 11pm and midnight however, they were getting painful and strong and I considered timing them. I was trying to convince myself to get up and shake off the sleep, when I thought I heard (or felt, not sure which) a little tiny pop. I thought for sure it was in my head, but I needed to go potty, so I got up. Walked to the bathroom, went potty, and the water continued to trickle. I remember my legs being shaky. I knew my water was broke, without a doubt, I didn’t even need to consider it. It was midnight exactly. 12:00am. I grabbed my phone, stuffed a towel down my pants, and was calling for Clark (who had fallen asleep watching tv in the front room.) I barked at him a few times before getting his attention, and when I finally had it, I made it clear there was no time to be groggy or confused. “We have to GO NOW.” He was great. Threw shorts on, started throwing bags in the car, and I dialed Hope’s number. She answered right away, and I said, “My water’s broke, we need to move fast.” This baby was gonna be here within the hour, there was no question in my mind. We had to make a split second decision. Timpanogos Hospital was 10 minutes down the road, Jordan Valley (the hospital we needed to go to) was 25 miles down the freeway. We all agreed. Hurry the heck up and get to Jordan Valley. It was midnight, traffic wasn’t gonna be an issue, we would fly. However, there was no chance we would have time to round the girls up outta bed, and get them dropped off with a babysitter in the middle of rushing to the hospital. No chance at all. I ran up the stairs to my neighbor’s apartment and knocked on her door. I asked Brooke if she could come sit in my house with my girls until we figured out permanent arrangements. She was more than wonderful and got comfy on our couch. We scrambled to find keys, and managed to be in the car heading towards the freeway by 12:11am. I had Hope on the phone; they were in route as well. My wonderful mother-in-law was also in route, and gracious enough to be willing to take pictures at the hospital for us, no matter what time it was. We flew. I called the hospital telling them we were on our way. I made it very clear that everything needed to move fast as soon as we got there. I wanted to have an anesthesiologist waiting and ready to go as soon as I walked through those doors. I knew there was a very good chance I could miss an epidural altogether, but a girl can hope. 85mph the whole way to the hospital, I wasn’t worried about getting pulled over. I wasn’t going to have this baby on I-15.

Here’s my favorite part of the entire night.
THE EXIT WE NEEDED TO TAKE, TO GET TO THE HOSPITAL, WAS BARRICADED AND CLOSED. No warning signs or detour suggestions leading up to the exit. NOPE. Freakin’ closed.
I yelled at Clark to take the exit anyway. I had just taken the exit the day before! There was no way the road was all torn apart. I didn’t know of another way to get to the hospital. I wanted him to take the exit anyway! In the heat of the moment, he bellowed, “Are you insane! I can’t take the exit!” and he blew right past it. I went straight into panic mode. We had no idea how to get to the hospital now. No GPS, nothing. We jumped off at the next exit, and got lost through some stupid residential neighborhood. I called 911. I wasn’t screwing around at that point, I needed someone to get us in the right direction. My contractions were unbearable. I couldn’t talk through them. The 911 operator was no help at all. “Ma’am, you should pull over and I’ll have the paramedics come to you.” That’s all she could say. UM- NO! I was 3 minutes from the hospital! The paramedics would take too long. I wasn’t having this baby in an ambulance or on the side of the road. Just get me to the hospital! Not once did the operator give me directions or say anything helpful. I told her I was hanging up now, and she insisted I absolutely had to stay on the phone with her ‘til I was inside the ER. I could hardly talk, I was annoyed. My husband was Captain Awesome. He whipped through some neighborhood, blew through stop signs, and I never would have thought those little blue signs with a big H and an arrow would ever be so beautiful. 

“Follow the arrows!” I screamed. I thought I might have seen a cop on the side of the road at one point. I now had dispatch on the line telling me to just keep going. “If you see a cop flip his lights on, just keep going. All the officers in the area know you’re in emergency route to the hospital.” We flew around cars puttin’ along… we flew into the parking lot of Jordan Valley Medical Center. I was starting to feel pressure down low. That couldn’t be good… we pulled up to the doors and I threw the phone at Clark. I was sick of talking to the idiots on the line who were no help whatsoever. I was in the middle of a strong contraction. I couldn’t get outta the car. When it finally passed, I jumped out, ran in the doors, bypassed the elevator, and booked it up the stairs. I wasn’t about to wait for an elevator to go up one story. We got to labor and delivery, they wheeled me straight back, threw me in a bed, water still trickling everywhere, barely had time to get my pants off, the nurse is ready to check me. I was at 9cm. I had a nurse shoving an IV in my arm, a nurse trying to get the monitor around my tummy, and several others whirling around me. In runs Hope. My mother-in-law was there, Clark was running in and out.

-REAL CONTRACTIONS 
-WITHOUT ANY EPIDURAL 
– FREAKIN’ HURT

I had never been in so much pain in all my life. I wanted to tear down the hospital bed. I was ready to climb through the ceiling. I was only half aware of Clark or Hope standing next to me. I couldn’t focus on any one thing that was going on around me. I was so thirsty I couldn’t swallow. I could hardly focus on chewing ice chips. I had to vomit. The contractions were so painful. The pressure I was feeling to push was painful in an entirely different way. Do you have any idea how painful it is to vomit over the side of the bed DURING contractions?! I thought I was dying. I was ready to push. I could feel it. The nurse insisted that I shouldn’t push yet. The doctor wasn’t there yet. Every time a new contraction hit, I screamed and begged her to let me push. I knew that I could have that baby out in no time and I wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. Hope was next to me. The nurse finally gave in and got my legs up and ready. I remember feeling the pressure from the baby, and thinking there was no way I would ever get it out with as much pain as I was in. It was time to push. I heard Hope call over to her husband. I started to push, I remember only one thing going through my mind.

“There is no way in Hell I am pushing twice. I won’t - I refuse, to relax after this contraction and push again a second time. He had to come out now. He had to come out in ONE push.”

I'm not gonna lie, this picture makes me laugh. How cute are the guys standing off to the side :) I probably don't wanna know what's so funny...

And I pushed with everything I had. I felt his little body come out. Holy Crap. I felt like I was being torn apart as he came out, but as soon as he was out, there was instant relief. I was still in so much pain, I was oblivious to what was going on around me. I didn’t even care what was going on. Somewhere in the pain I heard a baby crying, and I knew he was fine. I knew there were plenty of people taking care of him. Clark was at my side. The doctor walked in. The doctor that I wasn’t too fond of decided it was necessary to ream on my stomach and start the pain up all over again. I yelled at him to stop. He said there was a lot of blood. I remember thinking, “Well yes, isn’t that normal?” The way you’re wrenching on my stomach is NOT normal.” I had to push again and deliver the placenta. That still hurt like hell. I wanted it to all be over. My mother-in-law was snapping pictures (as requested) and the doctor snapped at her. Clark kissed my forehead. I could hear the baby crying. I could see everyone huddled around the baby. I was so glad the pain was over and he was okay. The nurses got me cleaned up, and they told me the baby was 6 lbs and 4oz. I couldn’t believe it. Brynlee (my 3^rd baby) was 6 lbs 3 oz, but she was born a lot closer to her due date. He was easily 3 weeks early & 6lbs 4oz. He was born at 1:06am. I couldn’t believe that either. Well I kinda could… but it was incredible. My water broke at 12:00, phone calls made, sitter in the house, loaded car, keys found and we hit the freeway all by 12:11. Flying to West Jordan, our exit was closed, panic, getting lost off the next exit, calling 911, no help at all, painful contractions, beautiful blue signs with an H, running up stairs, at a 9, ice chips, vomit, hulking out ready to break the bed, no doctor, begging to push, and finally being allowed to push, not willing to push twice, giving it everything I had, and pushing once, baby was born at 1:06. 

These pictures of hope make me cry. This is what made it all worth it

You remember how I said I would love to experience the whole “just like the movies, honey it’s time! thing?” Well I did. And I’ve gotta say, I much prefer my happy little scheduled induction with my epidural and my nap before I have some pressure and push once, hardly feeling anything at all, everyone snapping cute pictures, watching them take care of the baby, all the excitement easily enjoyed.

And I’m sorry, but the women out there who choose to have a baby au natural, you’re just a bunch of adjectives that will probably-most likely offend. And I can’t imagine having babies in the days of no drugs. And I can’t wrap my mind around the poor women that have to push for anywhere from 20 minutes to several hours! Although if you chose to go natural, then I don’t feel bad for you… unless you learned your lesson of course. Whenever I think about the labor and delivery, I choke back tears. I never want to go through that again as long as I live. I am convinced that Clark did more than he thought when he attempted to strip my membranes. I don’t regret doing so at all, because we were all so relieved that it happened when it did. It made the emergency trips up from Illinois worth it. And I had the week to recover before our big move tomorrow. Saturday night was just the best night to have a baby, and I’m glad we got things moving. I told Clark that with our next baby, if I hit 37 weeks, 38 weeks, or even 39 weeks and we are just so anxious and we want to get things moving on our own, because we just can’t wait another minute to meet our newest baby, he has permission to shoot me in the foot if I suggest moving things along on our own. Especially stripping the membranes. Although in the future, I won’t be a half hour from my hospital… so in all fairness it might not end up playing out quite the same. If my hospital is just up the road, and my water breaks, I could still very well have a chance at that epidural. Who knows…

That whole ordeal that night was far more chaotic and dramatic than any movie. 

After all the excitement, once I was all cleaned up, we all sat and visited in the delivery room. I was shaking real bad, but it was such a trip to sit and hash out what had just happened. It was hilarious to hear it all from everyone else’s point of view. I was told that during the hardcore contractions when I wasn’t being allowed to push, my mother-in-law leaned over to Hope’s husband and said, “She sure is swearing A LOT…” and his response was, “She can say WHATEVER she wants.” :) It hurt to laugh as hard as I did when I heard that. Clark updated my facebook status to:

Lord please forgive Vanessa for her profanity on the Sabbath.

Everyone had a good laugh at that too…

Hashing out the excitement was fun. The last time Hope had heard from me, I told her the exit was closed! But immediately after I told her, I called 911. Well while I was on an emergency call, she couldn’t get through to me. My phone kept going straight to voicemail. In all the excitement, Clark forgot his phone altogether. She thought for sure that the only reason I had my phone off is because I was on the side of the road somewhere delivering her baby! I heard that and instantly put myself in her shoes. I would have been freaking out had I been in her shoes. Not being able to get through to me. What a nightmare. And of course I was so focused on getting to the hospital and dealing with moronic 911 operators, I hadn’t thought about the fact no one could get ahold of me.

We couldn’t believe how fast the baby had come. How fast it all happened. Although I’ve said from the very beginning, once my water is broke, my babies usually come within 30 minutes to an hour. And I was right on the money. The baby would have been there even sooner if they had let me push when I first needed to push. Hope said she missed it. SHe didn't see the baby come out. She had called over to her husband to tell him that she could see baby's head about the size of a golf ball, and when she looked back down, the baby was out. She missed it. He came that fast.

When it was time to take baby to the nursery, and me to my room, my mother-in-law headed back to my house to stay the rest of the night with my girls. Clark and I got settled in our room. He ran out to the car to get all our bags. We rearranged our furniture so our beds could be right next to each other. It was around 3 in the morning, and we were so incredibly exhausted. I couldn’t fall asleep for the life of me though. I just sat there in the dark and thought about everything that had happened in such a short time. I kept going over it again and again in my head. And every time I looked over at Clark, I started to cry my eyes out. Obviously I had a truck load of hormones and emotions pumping through me, but every time I looked at my husband, I was overwhelmed by how much I love him and how happy my life made me. Here he was, by my side. Just like he was every step of this journey. I thought about how beautiful my life was, and how happy I was that I could be apart of Hope and her husband’s happiness.

I didn’t finally fall asleep until 4:30 that morning. And of course the nurse was bugging me by 6:30, which was all the sleep I got that first day. Clark and I ate breakfast, and Hope and the baby came over to visit with us.

Baby Spencer Tate

Born at 1:06am

Sunday, July 1^st, 2012

6lbs 4oz, 18 ½ inches

The cutest little thing you ever did see :)

We visited, and I held my new little buddy until Hope’s husband showed up with their girls. We were all so excited to finally see those big sisters meet their little brother :) I videotaped them coming in, and then I snapped pictures like crazy. It was all so much fun. Even Hope’s mom came to visit. Such a wonderful experience.

My ALL TIME favorite picture- Mommy & Daddy holding baby Spencer <3

I look terrible... but i guess that's to be expected right?

After we visited some more, Clark was wonderful enough to go get me the thing I was craving most. The bread served at The Cheesecake Factory! That’s all I wanted for lunch. It was amazing. While he was out, I started blogging. Of course you all know how long it takes me, which is why you are getting the blog a week and 2 days later ;)

The Percocet hit me hard after lunch, and I had a love/hate relationship with it ever since. When I woke up from a solid nap, it was time to eat dinner and say our goodbyes. The doctor had called and said he was fine with me going home that evening. I hadn’t even been in the hospital for 18 hours, although it felt like a week had passed.

My new favorite doctor came to visit me. I was actually pleased with his demeanor this time around. 3^rd time’s a charm of course. We talked mostly about me having another baby. The thought of being pregnant again makes me wanna jump off a bridge, but as much as I don’t want to be pregnant again, I really want to finish having my family even more. And I don’t want to wait around to have more, I would just be prolonging the inevitable misery of being pregnant. I want to have my body back permanently. The sooner the better. Which means I need to finish having my family. So we talked about starting my prenatal vitamins up again. We talked about exercising as soon as I had clearance, and getting my body physically where it needed to be if I was going to have two pregnancies back to back. It’s been a week and two days now since the delivery, and my arms are as bad as ever. After our visit, I was free to go. Clark and I packed up and said our goodbyes. We went to pick up our girls from Grandma’s. Family was visiting from out of town, and everyone was shocked to see us out of the hospital so soon. We visited for a bit, and then Clark and I were on a mission to find a pharmacy open on a Sunday evening. We finally found one at the other end of the county before we made our way home and settled in for the night. Longest day of my life, which was followed by the longest week of my life.

The short version: Had baby Spencer in the early morning hours on Sunday, home Sunday night, Clark started his new job Monday morning, I was on my own with the girls every day following the delivery. Tuesday afternoon, (just two and a half days after delivering) I had my first infant photo shoot with my new little buddy and his mommy :) I had so much fun! I stopped taking my pain meds for the shoot so I could see clearly through the viewfinder on my camera, but it was totally worth it. I was so happy with how the pictures turned out, considering it was my very first infant shoot! Wednesday and Thursday and Friday were spent getting the last of our house ready to move. My days started at 6 am and I didn’t slow down until midnight every night. Thursday morning I met Hope at her doctor’s office to sign paperwork for little Spencer to be circumcised. One of the people on the birth certificate had to be present, and since Hope’s husband had to head back to Illinois the day before, I was the back up. (Explanation on that whole mess to follow) Did the walk through and signed the lease for our apartment on Friday, starting moving in that night. Saturday morning our moving party was here to help. Clark and I spent all day Saturday and Sunday moving in to the new apartment, unpacking, and moving out of the old apartment. Monday morning I spent the whole day running errands, including a trip to Salt Lake and back to pick up my son from the airport! Monday night we celebrated his birthday. It is now Tuesday, and I am trying to finish this blog post so that I can finish putting my apartment together! I figure I will start the official “recovery process” this weekend. Hopefully. Truly the longest and hardest week of my entire life. Clark and I are so excited for our lives to be put back together and back to normal. 

I love how these turned out :)

The last one here is my all time favorite picture

He is just perfect

Our incompetent lawyer, (I’m sorry but I would never ever recommend her) was supposed to have a Pre-Birth order to us months ago. I don’t know the details, but basically a pre-birth order is the legal paperwork that makes the baby Hope’s and her husbands from the moment he’s born. But since she never felt the need to get us a pre-birth order, we had a mess on our hands at the hospital. I was now on the birth certificate with daddy, and I had to fill out and sign a ton of paperwork stating I was taking full financial responsibility of the baby, that I was not married during the time of birth, and a whole bunch of other nonsense that would technically have to get sorted out in court. Grumble Grumble....

We have a court date set for July 16^th to sort everything out. I blame the lawyer. It is seriously a sticky annoying mess that was easily avoidable if she had just done her job months ago.

My carpal tunnel has only gotten worse since the delivery. I could go on and on about how much pain my arms, hands and fingers are in, but you would never really understand. We thought it would fix itself right away, but we were wrong. I guess carpal tunnel is when your nerves swell, and I guess there is plenty of swelling that takes place after the baby is born. It’s not too hard to wrap my mind around, it just really sucks. It’s been a week and two days, but to be fair, I really haven’t had any chance to recover at all, which might be why the carpal tunnel hasn’t resolved itself. That doesn’t change the fact that a part of me is worried that the situation won’t resolve itself. It’s a small surgery to relieve the carpal tunnel, otherwise I could possibly lose all feeling in my hands and fingers altogether. It’s a scary thought. I’m not freaking out yet. I will probably freak out in 6 weeks if the pain and numbness don’t go away and I have in fact had that chance to recover. Here’s hopin’. Other than the carpal tunnel, I engorged 4 days after I delivered. We knew that would probably happen. Doesn’t make it fun. I wrapped up tight, but it never helped at all. I was a mess. I had the week from hell, my ankles were swollen, my arms were both in a brace, I couldn’t sit on my butt because of all the pain from having a baby, and I was wrapped so tight I couldn’t breath. I seriously felt claustrophobic. I couldn’t handle it. I got to a point where I stayed unwrapped, since it wasn’t helping anyway. I have been engorged for 5 days or so… but I’m on the downhill side. My biggest complaint is still my arms. And the hemorrhoids. I’ll spare you the details. 

Not Really Sure What To Think...

Well a lot has changed in just a small amount of time. My last blog was just a lot of anxiety over what I’m up against for my next few pregnancies. Never meant to sound like I was grumbling about my current discomforts, just meaning to paint a picture of what I will realistically be going through in the near future.

I ended up going to my 36 week appointment a week ago, and they did the Group B Strep test. I still haven’t received the results of that test, but with my 3^rd pregnancy, I was positive for Group B Strep, so there’s a good chance I have it again this time. I remember hearing I was positive for Group B Strep the last time around, and was really worried about what that could potentially mean for my baby. My doctor reassured me that they would administer antibiotics through my IV during the labor & delivery, and again after the birth if needed, and all would be fine. We let ourselves be comforted by the doctor’s reassuring words. Not much else to report as far as this subject goes, just waiting to hear the results, which again, are very likely to be positive.

At my 36 week appointment, which was Thursday the 21^st, I found out that I was 2 cm dilated and about 60% effaced. I wasn’t surprised at all to hear this. Very common for me to be a few cm in, a little effaced, and have a month to go. I expected to hear just that. I told Hope and she was very excited :)

Then, we got some unexpected news about our insurances. I have a certain insurance that covers me, but the insurance her family has to cover the baby is totally different, and ultimately there were very few hospitals in the area that would accept BOTH insurances. Utah Valley, (where I delivered my 3^rd, and also planned to deliver this baby at) was a no go. Timpanogos Hospital and American Fork (the two closest to me) were also not gonna work. They only accepted one insurance or the other, not both. Grrr…

Turns out that we had the choice of delivering at

Heber (a solid 40 minutes away with a drive through the canyon)

Park City (a solid 50 minutes even further through said canyon with a climb up a mountain side)

Or Jordan Valley (a 25 minute drive down the freeway, but in Salt Lake County, mostly inconvenient for the weekly doctors visits, but do-able.)

So that’s where we landed. From my 36 week appointment on Thursday to Tuesday (5 days later) we investigated, confirmed and got the ground work going on a new clinic with a new doctor in West Jordan (25 minutes from home.) I even registered with the hospital. Okee Dokee. I came to terms with the idea of changing doctors at the very last minute. Not the end of the world, mostly I just cared about everyone being covered insurance wise and making sure a doctor would in fact deliver the baby. I’m flexible. I needed to get my records sent over right away though. I went right in to my current clinic to sign the medical release forms. At this point I had been having a fair amount of contractions the last day or so, but at the clinic, I was hurting so bad I wasn’t walking very well. My doctor noticed me and asked if I wanted to be checked out real quick. I figured, what the heck, I’m already here. Let’s have a quick check.

I was 3 cm and 80% effaced. Well okay… I was a little surprised I had effaced that much in just a matter of days. At least this far out from my due date. But hey, I was definitely feeling some contractions, and things seemed to be working down low, so I can’t say I was totally surprised. I had stayed at a 3 or a 4 for a few weeks with all my other pregnancies, so this hopefully wasn’t too different.

I was just a little more uneasy, because I knew that every pregnancy is different for every single woman, and I didn’t need to go into labor with the baby’s family in Illinois. Hope wasn’t scheduled to get here for another 10 days. But I called her to tell her that I had progressed some, and that I was now at 3cm, 80%. I had never been that effaced this far out before. –This was on Wednesday

Hope was a little nervous to hear the news. Nobody really knows what to think…

She blogged that night, and this is what she had to say:

“Vanessa called today.  3cm dilated and 80% effaced.  Having some strong/uncomfortable contractions.

I NEED to know what this means!!!   If she was to tell me right now that she thinks she could possibly be going into labor it would probably take me 12-20 hours to get to her depending on time of day and flights. 

I do NOT want to miss this baby being born. 

Although I would normally want my baby to cook as long as possible, I think I prefer having an earlier induction date just to be on the safe side so everything can be happily in place at the time of birth.  Vanessa sees the doctor again in 2 days.  Waiting for suggestions from someone professional on whether or not I should start heading west.”

By Thursday morning (not even 24 hours later) she decided to go ahead and come out early. Hope and her girls are now on a train heading my way….

Friday morning: I went to my new doctor’s appointment this morning. Beautiful clinic, but I didn’t love my experience. My records never showed up, so they wanted to start me at square one. Pee on a pregnancy test. I think not. Then they pulled out their little wheel to determine my due date. Good grief… I didn’t have the patience for this. I had been through a lot this week, between finding a new hospital, a new doctor, and feeling pretty drained from some pretty real contractions. Then the doctor came in and made it clear he was annoyed by not having the records. Thanks dude. I myself was annoyed, and yes it made the visit more difficult, but thanks for making me feel like it was my fault. Your dumb clinic wanted to make it difficult to even get those records, not me. Then he made me feel like I had to give him a run down of my past pregnancies and all of this pregnancy in 30 seconds or less. So I’m spitting out, inductions, deliveries, surrogacy related information, carpal tunnel, acid reflux, contractions, Illinois, 3cm & 80% as of two days ago, all as fast as I could. He seemed uninterested, which annoyed me a little more. The doctor’s I’ve been seeing for the last 8 months were sensational. Kind of disappointing. I wanted to focus on what’s going on with my body now. He seemed uninterested when I asked him to check me again. Well darn it, you know what, when I’m not sure where I’m at, and I’ve got Hope’s hubby still in Illinois, I would sure like to know what my body’s doing. Sorry doc if I’ve inconvenienced you. So he checked me.

I am now 4 cm and 90% effaced. Good heavens… I don’t know if I can take much more of this.

Here’s what I know:

Normally I dilate and sit on it for a few weeks, always needing to be induced. Never really feeling contractions or anything that feels like progress is being made. I’ve certainly never been this effaced this far out from my due date.

So here I am, 4 cm and 90%, and wondering if this will be the time I go into labor on my own. If I keep having contractions throughout my evenings, it’s gonna continue making some sort of progress right? Will I keep a baby in here for another 3 weeks?

I’m not ready to have the baby yet. I am living out of boxes til we move in a week, and I wanted to be settled. We wanted to have professional pictures done with Hope and I. Before and Afters. I am runnin’ outta time. My son will be here in a few days, my husband starts his new job on Monday. I bought a few things to make for the baby! I wanted to have time for my projects dangit… hopefully I still have time. Things are all over the place.

Well I called Hope after my appointment today and told her that we were sitting at 4 cm and 90%. She is a basket case, stuck on a train, being rerouted through Wyoming because of the Colorado fires, and won’t arrive til’ 3am. We got her husband on the phone, and everyone is trying to decide what the best move to make will be. As of an hour ago, he bought a round trip plane ticket and is headed this way tonight. Hope and hubby should both be arriving within hours of each other. He is a dentist, and I feel terrible about the fact that things are so up in the air. He can’t very well hang out here in Utah for a solid 3 weeks just waiting around. Ugh!

My doctor is fine to officially induce me on Saturday, the 14^th of July. That’s all fine and dandy, if I make it til’ then. He said he won’t be surprised at all if he sees me this weekend. Who knows what to think anymore. I am a little overwhelmed by it all. I feel like it’s my fault everyone is making new arrangements and possibly jumping the gun, all because my body might be saying one thing, or it might be saying nothing. I wish I just had some sort of control over what’s going on. I feel so helpless, but responsible for all the hustle and bustle. I’ve said before, I would sure like to go into labor on my own just once, but I didn’t want it like this! I wanted to be at my due date, not 3 weeks out. And I wanted my intended family to be here on properly scheduled time. I wanted my hospital to be two minutes down the road. Is that so much to ask? I would also like a pony, a castle, and cotton candy while we’re at it. (I already found Prince Charming) Thank you very much…

So this should be an interesting week. I am 4 cm and 90%, three weeks out from my due date, and feeling contractions throughout my evenings. I am trying to take it easy… What would you make of all this? Hurry Hope & Family, I would sure like you to be here if anything does happen!

You might very well hear from me real soon! :)

The Pain is Weighing Me Down...

This won't be a long blog post... I have no energy, and my arms are in a lot of pain. 

Today is June 18th, and I should officially be induced on July 19th :) A solid Month to go. My doctor said that date should work out great. We are all getting very excited! IT's the final stretch... and i've got lots on my mind, but one thing in particular. 

This has been, by far, my hardest pregnancy. i say that simply based on the fact that it is my most recent pregnancy. Like I've said before, it seems like I've got every symptom in the book, but I am discovering that the book is ridiculously big. I don't know how much more i can take. With my first pregnancy, I was just sick the entire time, it was hard on my body, and I got those darn Charlie horses quite a bit. With my second, it seemed about the same, only that unbelievably uncomfortable sensation where the baby's head is down and it pinches and you feel like the baby is going to come out was new. At first I thought something was always wrong, but I've had it with every pregnancy since. This is when the sciatic nerve also showed itself. Then with my 3rd, the incredibly severe acid reflux showed up, along with the restless legs. My feet and legs also swelled up for the first time. (it was sexy) With this 4th pregnancy, I have experienced a stretch of severe migraines, followed by what I feel is the worst symptom of all. 

In the last few weeks, I have developed what appears to be "Carpal Tunnel During Pregnancy." Everyone's gonna have a different opinion, or a different name for it, but ultimately my arms from the shoulder to my fingertips ache and throb at all times, and if I don't baby my arms, the go insanely tingly, like when your foot  falls into that painful sleep. The pain is constant, the tingly numbness is just an afterthought. My knuckles throb, and doing anything with my hands hurts like hell. It hurts to text, hold a sandwich, hold onto the steering wheel, type, hold my camera, edit my pictures, hold a phone up to my ear,  change my baby's diapers, do my/my girls' hair, and so on. I could probably go on forever. One of the hardest things right now is the fact that it hurts to drive, but if I don't drive, I get incredibly car sick. I've had to choose my poison, and for the last 72 hours, my husband has driven and I've opted  for carsickness. We were driving back from Heber on Father's day, and I had to have him pull over 3 times so I could ralph on the side of the road. I can hardly believe i've chosen the carsickness over the pain in my arms. Does that give you some idea of how bad it is right now? I can't handle it. THe very worst part of this is sleeping at night. That's when it's the worst. I spend the night in tears, and i've been getting about 2 hours of sleep a night. I start dreading bedtime around 3 in the afternoon. I've figured out that it's the worst when I sleep lying down, so now I sleep in a chair. How much sleep can a person get sleeping sitting up, with a big belly, restless legs, and extreme pain in their arms all night long. It was so bad two nights ago that I almost went to the emergency room around 3am. I almost woke Clark up and told him I was leaving. I almost called hope. But i always end up with that voice in my head that says, if you're not gushing blood and dying, you don't need to go to the emergency room. That voice always says, there's really nothing they can do. They'll tell you to drink lots of water and rest. At least that's all I ever get from the ER. Anyway, I almost went in. But i didn't. And I'm still here, i haven't died I guess. So this whole pain in the arms business... reared it's ugly head in the 3rd trimester. 

But the thing that's been on my mind lately is how much I'm not looking forward to my next couple of pregnancies. There is officially a pattern of symptoms getting worse with each new pregnancy, followed by another couple of miserable symptoms. That book just keeps getting bigger. My doctor confirmed my worries about harder pregnancies after this one. My husband is worried, and feels like we should maybe wait a bit before having another baby. I can't shake the feeling that we need to continue our family and not put anything on hold. I would rather have my body back permanently when we are all finished having kids than just delay the inevitable misery a few months. My mom thinks I should be done having kids altogether. I'm not finished having children, I'm just so discouraged right now at what's ahead for me.  It's all I can think about. 

When we started this whole surrogacy process, I knew I hated being pregnant. I didn't go into this naive or uninformed. I knew I could get through 9 months. I feel the same way about the pregnancies I have ahead of me. The sacrifice of putting my body through all this is worth it to me. There is nothing more important I could be doing than bringing these beautiful children into the world. Especially when I see how many women out there struggle with having children on their own. If I can, then by golly I'm gonna. It seems selfish to let these hard symptoms stop me. I remember qualifying to be a surrogate because "I had good pregnancies." That meant, I didn't have anything dangerous or life threatening. That is still the case. If "miserable pregnancies" disqualified me, then I wouldn't be here now. 

Man I don't mean to sound so negative. I have never once regretted carrying Hope's baby. This whole experience has been once in a lifetime. I mean being a part of something so special. Something bigger than your average every other day. I am able to take so much away from this. I am so grateful for the entire experience. My thoughts above are simply the thoughts that have been weighing me down about my own situation and what I still have to go through in my own life. It's a lot to think about. 

Other than the pain and discomfort I've been in, I have been unbelievably busy. Going a hundred miles a minute doesn't seem to carry enough weight behind it. I am almost all packed and ready to move. I will just have to pack up my kitchen and the bathrooms when moving day comes. We are moving to another apartment within our complex, which I'm excited about. The timing just kinda sucks. We are scheduled to move the first week of July... and I am scheduled to induce the end of the second week of July. I am hoping to be all settled before the induction. I really don't want to be surrounded by chaos and living out of boxes during my recovery. I don't think that's too much to ask... although the management around here doesn't seem to think so. It'll be interesting. 

Other than the pregnancy and moving, we have been busy with birthdays, father's day, job interviews, finances, photo shoots, school, our family, and life in general. It's been a little crazy around here. July only promises to be more insane. I think I'm looking forward to a quiet August.

I am down to having my Doctor's appointments once a week. They will check my cervix on Thursday. With all of my pregnancies, I usually dilate to a 3 or 4 for a good week or two before all my inductions. Contractions are slowly starting. That's pretty normal for me. When I was pregnant with my 3rd, we tried everything to send me into labor. Longs walks on a nightly basis, jumping on trampolines, massages and acupuncture that were supposed to induce labor, and I even drank castor oil. That last one sent me into insane contractions and i went to the hospital, but my body just wouldn't progress. I just can't seem to go into labor on my own. Just once I want to experience waking up at 3 am and saying to Clark, "It's time!" But i'm not holding my breath. So I'm not too worried about moving up 3 flights of stairs a week before my due date. If I blog about being dilated and effaced, don't get too excited ;)

That's really all that I have going on right now. I am looking forward to Hope's arrival in 3 weeks, along with my son who comes to stay with me for the summer :) Lots to do! I'll be in touch!

A little bit of EVERYTHING, with a special message at the end

I love my blog, and I love adding to it, but writing is seriously one of the hardest things for me to do. I’ve said that before. I think about all the different things I have to say on a daily basis, but putting my thoughts down in a coherent and flowing manner requires a babysitter and at least 5 hours of free time. Do such things even exist?

A lot has happened since we found out our wiggly little baby bump was a boy.

One of the most amazing experiences happened just a day or two later. Hope and I attended the Temple together. Her mom was able to come along also, and we all had such a wonderful time. Hope called it a “Spiritual Ultrasound.” I could not describe it any better myself. A Spiritual Ultrasound. I know that might be a little much to wrap your head around, but it was simply just being close to her baby boy in the most spiritual and holy place on earth. She couldn’t help but smile and peek down at my belly all throughout the endowment session. We visited quietly in the Celestial Room. About our friendship, and this sweet spirit on its way, and how thankful we all are for the miracles & blessings in our lives. I don’t know if there is another surrogacy relationship out there within the Church that has had a similar experience. It truly was once in a lifetime. I wish we had taken a picture outside the Temple that night, but it was dark and we had little ones to get home to.

We had several play dates while Hope was still in town for the Ultrasound. The girls all love to get together and play their hearts out. Hope took this cute picture during one of our play dates :) Her little girls thought it was so fun that my big tummy was their baby brother. I can’t wait til they get to meet their little brother for the very first time. 

Hope and I outside the Clinic

I mentioned to Hope that I didn’t feel like I could complain during this pregnancy. And when I say complain, I just mean the groans and grumbles of a pregnant woman. I couldn’t quite put my finger on the reasoning and emotion behind what I was trying to say, but I tried. At first it seemed like maybe it was just a matter of, “Well you brought this on yourself. You CHOSE to go through with this and be pregnant, so you have no room to complain about how hard it is sometimes.” But that didn’t seem to be the spirit of the matter. And if you think about it, I’ve been pregnant with my own children “by choice” and I’ve had no problem voicing my opinions about how miserable it was for me to be pregnant. And those were MY babies I was carrying. You would think that it would be easier to complain about a baby that isn’t mine. You’d think.

I had other thoughts on the subject. None of them ever seemed to fit. None of them made sense as to why I felt so positive despite how miserable I felt. I’m really not that good of a person. I do have negative thoughts. I’m working on that….

So I left it alone, but it still never sat well with me. Why did it seem so wrong to complain about the hard parts? Complaining just felt bitter in my mouth. I’ve never once felt negative about any of this. But it’s taken me to the 3^rd trimester to finally put my finger on the emotions I’m failing to illustrate. I don’t know when the realization hit me, and please please, find it in yourself to try to understand that I am NOT patting myself on the back, but this is what I’ve come up with.

You don’t complain, you don’t grumble, and you’re not negative about serving others. If a friend needs your help, and you drop everything in the middle of the night to be by their side, you don’t complain. If the little old lady next door can’t bend over to weed her flowerbeds, you don’t leave with negative feelings thinking, “Well that’s a Saturday afternoon I’ll never get back,” or “my back sure hurts, wish she could have done that herself.” I don’t care if the little old lady gives you milk and cookies in an effort to compensate you for your time. If strangers are moving in next door, and they don’t have enough hands to help unload their moving truck, you jump right in and help, and you never grumble. True service won’t give you negative feelings anyway. It goes against nature. That’s not the way the Lord intended it. Knowing there is someone on the other end who is grateful makes it worth every minute. So without sounding like I’m saying, “Hey, I know I’m doing something nice, therefor I guess I can’t complain,” what I am really truly trying to say is that it’s perfectly normal for me to complain about how much pain I’m in, or how uncomfortable I am, but it never felt right or natural to be that way with any of this. So there it is. I finally made sense of what I was feeling. Why it was so easy to tell the world I hated being pregnant with my own kids, but why it didn’t feel right to even think those thoughts to myself about Hope’s baby.

Bizarre, random… round about way of trying to put my thoughts and feelings into words. I totally understand if you think I’m a lunatic. But for the record, it felt really good to finally make sense of my own emotions that I have been at war with all these months. I could never complain when it’s such an amazing thing to be the answer to another family’s prayers. The end.

Moving on…

So Monday I have another doctor’s appointment. This one is the glucose tolerance test and then I get my Rhogam shot. Glucose tolerance test = drinking a nasty liquid that is the equivalent of orange soda with no carbonation (just straight sugar syrup) and then having your blood drawn to make sure you don’t have gestational diabetes. Rhogam shot = one of those good old “peanut butter shots” in the behind given to women who have an Rh negative blood type. I couldn’t tell you how it all works, and when my mom asked me to explain it to her, well, I couldn’t. To dumb it down, I would try explaining it like this. If a pregnant woman is Rh negative, and the baby is Rh positive, then there can be problems. So around 28 weeks, I get a shot that is supposed to help, and then when I give birth, if the baby is Rh positive, there is another round of shots given to protect both me and the baby. At least I’m pretty sure that’s the gist of it. Fun stuff :) I’ve never actually been able to keep the glucose drink down long enough for them to draw my blood with my past pregnancies, so hopefully Monday will go okay.

At my last doctors appointment, I had gained more weight than I should have, by a little more than I care to admit. I’ve made changes in my own eating habits, mostly just a healthier lifestyle. Not as much sugar, and a biggie for me – portion control. It’s been interesting. The first 48 hours of having no sugar made me the spawn of Satan. It was best that mommy was just left alone. I had serious withdrawals. Ever since I gained the extra weight, and then made the dietary changes, my hormones have been completely out of whack. I’m still trying to get a handle on all the changes. My husband has been so absolutely patient and understanding, I am ever so grateful for him.

My friend made a really good point to me yesterday. We were talking about watching our weight and all that good stuff, and she mentioned how I will have just had a baby, and I will probably look like I just had a baby, (with the extra weight and the belly that doesn’t go away, and the not nursing to not help the situation…)  but I won’t be walking around with a brand new little one. So to other people it will look like I don’t have any excuse for looking that way. It was a lovely thought… should I wear a sign that says, “I just had a baby! I’m not always this chubby!”?

At my appointment I will also bring up an induction with my doctor. I know it’s still a bit early (since I’m due July 20^th) but I’ve never managed to go into labor on my own with my first 3 pregnancies, and inductions have been the normal and predictable avenue. I realize it could be different this time around, but the best indicator if future behavior is past behavior. Just sayin’. I’ll believe things will be different when I see it. Until then, I’m just planning on this being pretty similar to all the other deliveries. Inductions are nice cuz you can plan. And in this particular situation, with everyone involved, planning is ideal. Hope should be coming up by train from Illinois around July 7^th, and her hubby will be flying up around the 12^th or 13^th. Just to give them all a safe cushion if anything unexpected were to happen. It will be so fun to spend July with her.

We make our big camping trip once every summer, and last night we were discussing where we’re gonna fit that it. My son comes to visit us during the summer, and he will be here July 9^th until August 20^th. We won’t go camping unless he’s here with us. So that leaves all of July (which would make me 9 months pregnant and camping) or August, after the baby is born and I’ve recovered. Even though we would just be camping 10 minutes up American Fork Canyon (a whopping 15 minutes from the nearest hospital) I still vote for August I guess. I am a die hard camper, (who doesn’t consider it camping if you’ve got toilets or running water nearby) and I’ve had the itch to sleep in my tent and cook over a campfire since January, so waiting til August will be torture. We also plan to move around the beginning of July, which will make it a busy month, and a hard move. Our lease is up though, and if everything works out, we are hoping to find a little house to rent. We shall see. It will be a summer to remember, that’s for sure :)

Two of my really good friends just had their babies this last week. It was the first baby for both of them, and it has been so fun to anticipate their new adventures right along with them! I was able to visit one of them in the hospital the evening she had her baby. It brought back all the memories of when my little Brynlee was born, and how I was able to share that experience with my husband. (My first two were with mistakes- which is another story for another blog for a soap opera for another day.) All I meant to point out was that when my Brynlee was born, the experience of having someone that I loved to share it with was incredibly special. All those memories came flooding back to me. And it really started to hit me how different this time around would be. Not that I wasn’t aware that it would be completely different, but it just got my wheels turnin’. You don’t dwell on the delivery, the recovery and what that all entails when you have your brand new baby. You aren’t even paying attention to the doctor delivering the placenta when you’re busy finding out how much the baby weighs, holding the baby for the first time, or seeing how much hair they have. You are so preoccupied with the baby that you don’t think twice about sitting on ice packs, or the epidural (which in my experience is totally worth getting – but SUCKS to actually get) or all the annoying checks from the nurses at random hours of the night. All of that just sweeps past you when you have the new baby. It just kind of hit me when I was visiting my friend that I’ll be doing all that fun stuff and won’t have my own baby to distract me. Not the end of the world, and not the hardest thing I’ve done by miles, but just something to ponder on. It really has been amazing at all the little things that have come up with this surrogacy that you would never ever think of unless you were actually in the situation. The emotions behind not anticipating a newborn in my home, the fact that I feel no attachment to the baby in any way, or how it will actually feel to go through the motions at the hospital without my own baby. That’s one of the reasons I’m so excited though to be able to experience this. I never would have learned these things and gained this experience if I had never gone through with it.

My husband and I took this year to have Hope’s baby, but we are planning to move right along with our own family. I certainly don’t want my kids back to back, but I also don’t want them 4 or 5 years apart. Some don’t agree with us, but we will do what is right for our family. As long as I am able to get pregnant, we won’t do anything to prevent it after this baby is born. Which could certainly turn into feeling like I’m going to be pregnant for a minimum of 18 months to have my own little one. A realization that makes me wanna cry. That’s just a lot of being pregnant for someone who does not enjoy it. My sweet husband actually said to me that he would be okay with waiting to have our own in order to give me a little time to have my body back. He knows first hand how hard this is on me. I was touched by his thoughts on the matter, but I’ll tell you what. I would much rather suck it up now and pump out my kids so that I can officially have my body back permanently. It’s stuff like how hard you work to get in decent shape, to just get pregnant again and lose all that progress. Over and over and over. Nope. What doesn’t kill me just makes me stronger. We will keep moving right along with our own family. I’ll survive :)

I have a few friends having babies right now, and ALL of them have had smooth sailing so far in their pregnancies. 8 weeks along, 16 weeks along, 20 weeks along, and almost no nausea, no feeling miserable at all. It kind of makes me sick and I’m rather jealous that they have it so easy. I even hear people say that they “love being pregnant.” I really just can’t wrap my mind around all that. It sure must be nice, that’s all I have to say.

Here have been my pregnancies – served on a silver platter in one semi-long paragraph.

Week 8 (you could clock it) the nausea hits. It goes strong for months, and then around the end of the second trimester, it’s only half as bad. Meaning I only need a Zofran every other day instead of twice a day. I still lose my breakfast at least twice a week, and I pee my pants every time I get sick. Debilitating migraines -daily. Luckily those only lasted two months. Severe Acid Reflux. I can’t think of anything more miserable than constant burning in your throat. It makes me sicker, and it never goes away. Not even at night when I sleep. THANKFULLY I have discovered Prilosec OTC and my acid reflux has been eliminated. But I went my entire pregnancy with Brynlee and the first half of this one without the Prilosec, and I truly suffer from acid reflux. If I forget to take a pill, it’s less than 8 hours before the burning comes back. I cannot even wrap my mind around how bad that is. Restless Legs. If you have never experienced restless legs, then I have no way of describing to you how miserable it really is. I have it so bad that I am not only affected when I sleep at night, but it will act up when I drive, or when I’m just sitting at the dinner table. My legs jerk and twitch. It’s involuntary, and painful. It affects my lower back. Then add the pinched sciatic nerve. The pregnancy back pain, the restless legs and the sciatic nerve all adding to my lower back and leg pain simultaneously. Then you’ve got a wiggly baby that makes your upset tummy uneasy, wiggles when you are just settling in, and likes to find extra leg room in your rib cage. You don’t sleep at night, because of all the above mentioned reasons, not to mention your huge tummy is just uncomfortable and impossible to sleep with anyway. Your boobs hurt. Every so often you get so constipated that it might or might not create a hemorrhoid issue. It hurts so bad to bend over to pick up anything, put on socks or shoes, change a diaper, shave your legs, paint your toes, and so on. Every once in a while you get crampy and have random Braxton Hicks contractions for no reason. Your tummy gets hard and it’s painful. The baby sit’s low and it feels like it’s going to slip out when you walk. Sitting hurts, walking pinches. All this time the nausea never lets up. Oh my goodness, and the worst part is that you have all these symptoms simultaneously for months.

Please understand that this is ALWAYS how my pregnancies are, and I am not referring to this one alone. I will honestly tell anyone without any hesitation that I hate being pregnant. Period. With any baby, even my own. That’s why it meant so much to me when Clark said he would be okay if I wanted to wait, so that I could have my body back for a little while.

I say this because like I said before, I cannot wrap my mind around the fact that there are lots of you who have easy pregnancies. It doesn’t seem fair that you don’t even experience morning sickness. Good heavens, it’s like I get every symptom in the book. Now I realize I don’t have pregnancies like Hope, with a feeding tube being the least of her worries. And I don’t have gestational diabetes or preeclampsia, which is why I felt like if I could have a healthy baby for a family, and only sign away 9 months (with the added injections) but certainly not the rest of my life. So I don’t think it was an unthinkable decision to go ahead and have a baby for another family.  Anyway, if you have easy pregnancies, then I hope you realize how lucky you have it.

That was my plug for where I’m at physically I guess. I didn’t intend to be negative, I only intended to be perfectly honest about what pregnancy is for me. I do not regret ever going through with this, just as I do not regret ever having my own children. There is no greater miracle. 

Clark texted me one day at work and told me that Mitt Romney had two more grandchildren born via gestational surrogate. It was fun news considering it was a high profile surrogacy for an LDS family. I told Hope as soon as I found out :) Here’s the link.

_______________________________________

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day. I received an incredibly special Mother’s Day present from Hope yesterday. Her sister knocked on my door and caught me completely by surprise. I couldn’t wait until Sunday to open it. I will probably never be able to put into words how much I loved her gift. I have to assume she knew this about me to some small extent, but whether she based her gift getting decision solely on this, I don’t know.

I LOVE the Willow’s Collection. The beautiful wooden figures you see in Hallmark. But even more than I love the collection, I love the ones I’ve collected over the years. Each one represents a significant time in my life, and they are some of my most precious possessions. 

I posted this to my facebook a while back.

My Husband and my Children are what I treasure the most in my life, and my Willows tell my story.

My first Willow was given to me by my son’s dad, many years ago. It represents me with my sweet baby boy. I was a child myself, but Taylor was the one constant, real thing in my life.

My second Willow was given to me for Mother’s day by some of my very best friends, Nick and Jasmine. They were there for me when I needed it the most, when Brionna was born, and Taylor was taken from me. The Willow represents me and my new baby Brionna. It was just the two of us. She was the only thing that kept me going when I lost my son.

My third Willow was given to me by my Mom and Dad. It was a gift for my 20th birthday, and represents me with Taylor and little Brionna.

My fourth Willow was also given to me by my Mom and Dad for my 20th birthday. My Son and I.

My fifth Willow was the cake topper for our Wedding Cake. I wanted a Willow topper more than anything. It represents Clark coming into my life, our wedding day, and the love that we have for one another.

My sixth Willow was given to me by our dear friend Chelsea. It represents Clark, Brynlee and I. I finally got things right. I had a sweet baby with someone that I love, someone who truly loves me.

My Willows tell my story. When I look at them I remember where I came from, and what I’ve been through. Those things have made me who I am.

With that being said, Hope was sweet enough to add a very special piece to my collection for Mother’s Day. This Willow represents this special time in my life. How appropriate! How very appropriate, I can’t even tell you how much I love it. Hope, I hope you know you didn’t have to get me ANYTHING, but since I know how much you’ll listen to my insisting, please know that I love your gift and I will cherish it just as I do my others. Thank you <3

I keep hearing that Hope and her husband are dueling it out over baby boy names. My vote didn’t make the cut, which is fine because I love it so much that I might just use it if we ever have a little boy :)

Happy Mother’s Day to all you mothers out there. It’s hard work (even though Obama doesn’t seem to think so;)

I Love You Mom. I think about you always. Make sure Kimmy and AJ do your dishes tomorrow! The kids want you to know how much they love and miss their Grandma.

I Love you Debbie, thank you for bringing my incredible husband into the world, and raising him to be a wonderful father & a worthy Priesthood holder. Thank you for being such an awesome Grandma to our kids

I Love you Hope. I’ve said this before, but you are the most patient and gentle mother I’ve ever met. I am so glad to have you as a friend, and to be able to give you one more reason to celebrate on Mother’s Day :)

Happy Mother’s Day to Brittany, my son’s step mom. I appreciate the effort you put into taking care of Taylor. I love him and miss him every day.

Happy Mother’s Day to all my friends & family. To all you brand new mommies out there, and to all you mothers who follow my blog.

Last, I want to send a special message out to those of you who are here because you are struggling with having children of your own. Never forget the Sanctity of Womanhood. You are Daughters of God, and he knows your heart. You are not alone. This talk was given by Linda Longhurst, and can be found on LDS.org…

My Search for Motherhood

I may never have children of my own in this lifetime, but Heavenly Father has not left me childless.

During sacrament meeting on any given Sunday, I sit in the middle spot on a middle bench in the middle of our chapel.

Except on Mother’s Day.

On Mother’s Day, I choose an aisle seat in the back near the door.

Mother’s Day can be an emotionally trying day for any woman; feelings of inadequacy, disappointment, loss, or a variety of other circumstances may contribute to this. As an unmarried woman in my 40s with a medical condition that often causes infertility, I probably will never be a mother to children of my own in this lifetime. This heartbreak can sometimes make sacrament meeting on Mother’s Day more than I can bear. In my ward all the women are invited to stand and receive a Mother’s Day gift, maybe a flower or a chocolate bar. Despite the good intentions behind this ward tradition, I usually feel undeserving of and disheartened by a gift that I have little hope of earning in the typical way.

For weeks before Mother’s Day I begin preparing myself emotionally: reminding myself that “we are all mothers”1; thinking of women I should remember rather than dwelling on my own disappointments; acknowledging that even women who do have children may find Mother’s Day uncomfortable; telling myself that I am a good aunt, teacher, and friend to other people’s children; and trying to think of Mother’s Day as just another Sunday. I am never quite sure how well these tactics will work, so I sit near the door of the chapel, poised to exit if my heartbreak becomes too apparent.

Blessed by the Scott Family

One year I found Mother’s Day to be particularly difficult. I was just coming to accept that I might not have children in this life and was grieving that loss as well as battling challenges with my medical condition. But not wanting to be defeated, I forced myself out of bed, got dressed, and drove to church, determined to obediently attend my meetings. Despite my best efforts, though, I was in tears before pulling out of the driveway and for most of the 25-minute drive. In the parking lot of the meetinghouse, I somehow suppressed the lump in my throat, forced back the tears, went in, and took my position on the aisle seat of an empty pew toward the back of the chapel.

And then a blessing named the Scott family arrived. Having gone through a period of infertility themselves, they must have realized that Mother’s Day might be difficult for me. Sister Scott brought her three children and sat by me on the pew. With a family next to me, I didn’t feel quite so single and childless.

Brother Scott, a counselor in our bishopric, was the first speaker. He commented that speaking on Mother’s Day was a challenge because of the feelings that it can evoke for many, if not all, members of the congregation. His thoughtful words spoke to my heart as well as to my situation. My emotions got the best of me, and I knew that to avoid embarrassment, I had better leave before the Primary children sang their musical number.

I went to my car where I sat reading my scriptures, crying over my heartbreak, and feeling ashamed of myself for not having the spiritual strength to stay in the meeting. I waited until I was sure that sacrament meeting was over and that the Mother’s Day gift—it was a rose that year—had been handed out, and then I returned for Sunday School and Relief Society. I had convinced myself that no one had noticed my exit and that my face showed no evidence of crying, so I didn’t think much of Brother Scott’s request when he asked to see me in the bishop’s office after church.

I was completely caught off guard when I walked in to discover that he had not only noticed my exit from sacrament meeting but had also saved a rose for me. I could not hold back the tears as he told me that I deserved it as much as anyone and gave specific examples of my positive influence as a woman and member of our ward. Although I was embarrassed by my tears and unsure that I wanted the gift, I was touched and grateful that someone was aware of my pain and conscious of my influence as a woman. Later that day I knelt in prayer to thank my Heavenly Father for sending this sweet family to comfort me.

Seeking Opportunities for Motherhood

After that Mother’s Day, I became more diligent in my search for what I call “alternative opportunities for motherhood.” The more I sought for and opened myself to these opportunities, the more I found them. I discovered that I could be an example of righteous womanhood for children and youth in my family, ward, and community. I served as a trusted adult in teenagers’ lives, confirming the truths their parents were teaching them. I volunteered to babysit so couples in the ward could attend the temple or take care of pressing family issues. I held a baby or followed a curious toddler in the hallway at church so the mother could listen to the lesson or attend to her calling. In sacrament meeting, I sat with families whose fathers were unable to sit with them and helped manage the children. I supported young people by making an effort to attend special events such as courts of honor, school plays and concerts, seminary graduations, and Primary talks. I took more interest in the lives of the children I worked with in my career as a speech-language pathologist and offered more encouragement to their parents as they coped with the many challenges of having a child with a disability. I invited children from the ward or neighborhood to my home to decorate Christmas cookies, watch a movie, or play in my yard. I helped a busy mother by giving her children rides to youth activities or running errands. I tried to fill a few of the voids created by the absence of deployed military parents in our community.

On one occasion, Jonah, whose father was deployed, suffered a severely broken arm. I was able to drive Jonah and his mother to the hospital and then care for his three siblings overnight so their mother could stay with Jonah.

When I talked to Jonah’s mother later, she expressed concern about having “imposed” on me. I could only thank her for giving me an alternative opportunity for motherhood.

While some women live in homes where opportunities for motherhood abound and even overwhelm, I live a life where opportunities for motherhood must be sought. My motherhood is found in serving others. Of course I still am disappointed that I haven’t had the opportunity to raise children of my own, but Heavenly Father has not left me childless. My children are all around me, providing me with precious, though less typical, opportunities for motherhood.

The Baby Wasn't Shy! :)

Oh my goodness I am so excited! Hope just dropped me back off at home. We spent the last hour and a half at our ultrasound. Everything went great :) We got lots of pictures, we got a video. The ultrasound tech was super nice and I could not have had a better time.

It's a baby BOY!

haha! Can you believe it?! I wanted it to be a little boy so badly. How perfect. Their little family will be complete. Hope teared up during the ultrasound. The baby kicked and wiggled all over the place. He wasn't shy at all. We all said it at the same time. "It's a boy?!" It was hard to mistake :) It is so fun to be a part of this. I am giddy and smiling so much my mouth hurts. Hope called her husband and had him on speakerphone. She wanted to mess with him, so she tried, "Well I hope you like Pink!" haha is response was, "How can you tell my little boy's gay?" We all busted up laughing cuz that wasn't the response we expected. At least I'm pretty sure that's what he said. We were all too giggly to really understand a whole lot. Hope came out with it after that. "We're having a son!" His pause and his sigh was enough. We all wished we could have seen his face. Their little girls have been insisting that it was going to be a baby brother. They have been so sure. How fun.

Here at our house, Clark asked Brionna (my 5 year old) what she thought the baby was gonna be. She said it was a girl. He said he thought it was gonna be a boy. So he told her that if he was right, then she had to buy him a treat, and if it was a girl and she was right, then he would buy her a treat. As soon as I told them it was a baby boy, Brionna was like, "OH MAN! I have to get daddy a treat now?!" hahaha.

It's so fun to be able to refer to the baby as "he" instead of it. He's gonna be here before we know it! July is just right around the corner :) Now Hope and her husband will talk baby names. I am so excited. Oh man, my mouth hurts from smiling :D

I wanted to post a better blog full of pictures and the video, but I could't wait to announce the news to everyone! So here it is. The short version, and I will post the fun stuff when I get a chance.

It's a boy! It's a baby boy! They're having a BABY BOY!!! HAHA! :D