Thursday, February 19, 2015

What I wish I had known

I have felt compelled to write this post for a while now. Since October to be exact (I'm SUPER on top of things in case you couldnt tell). October is Down syndrome awareness month and awareness about Down syndrome is something I feel a sincere desire and need to share. A single month is no where near sufficient enough time to spread awareness.

21 months ago my life changed. Every expectant mother encounters changes when their new baby is born, and there are thousands of books and articles and blogs that try to give you an idea about what to expect when you have a new baby. I read many of them. Not a single one could have prepared me for that day. It was the most painful day of my life in every imaginable way. I still get emotional when I think about the suffering I went through those first few weeks. Not because it was terrible, but because most of that pain and suffering was entirely unnecessary.

I learned about Trisomy 21 in my 9th grade Biology class, which just so happened to be taught by my dad. Down syndrome occurs when there is an extra (3rd) copy of the 21st chromosome. Hence, trisomy 21. I understood Down syndrome on that level, and knew of a few of the health complications that could accompany the condition, but my experience with actual individuals at that point was minimal, and honestly left a negative impact on me. I was frightened by what I didn't understand and for that reason I took on the mind set of "God knows what I can handle, and I just couldn't handle that". Years passed and I never got to have any additional experiences with individuals with Down syndrome, and my mentality stayed the same.

Then came the day that Damon and I were called to be Primary teachers at church. Our adorable class of five-year-olds just so happened to include the only child with Down syndrome in our ward. She was a darling little thing, but I admit, I was nervous. That year of teaching turned out to be pretty special. Damon became the pro at keeping "E" engaged during class and sharing time, and I learned a lot and came to feel protective of her sweet little spirit, but there was still so much that I didn't know.  There is still so much that MOST people don't know.

A few months after we were released from that calling, Paige was born.

When I found out my newborn daughter had Down syndrome:

I didn't know that my child could still be healthy and strong.
I didn't know that a Down syndrome diagnosis wasn't the end of the perfect dream family I had planned.
I didn't know that my daughter would have the most darling personality I had ever met.
I didn't know that my life would become filled with so much joy my heart wouldn't be able to contain it.
I didn't know that I had been given the most extraordinary, beautiful gift.
I didn't know I how lucky I was.

I wish with all of my heart that I had known even a fraction of what I know now. I wish I could spread the word far and near and I wish I could share with everyone the joy and love my child radiates. In a world where evil is seemingly taking over, She is what we need. She is what I need. I am grateful every day that my Heavenly Father knows me better than I know myself.







Friday, March 21, 2014

World Down Syndrome Day!!!

Today is 3-21, which is WORLD Down Syndrome Day!! I can’t even begin to explain how much those three numbers have come to mean to us over the last year. Our amazing little daughter has 3 copies of chromosome 21, and we could not possibly be more in love with her!

When we first received the diagnosis of Down syndrome, I was mortified. I was devastated, and in some ways, I thought my life was over. If only I knew. If only I knew, when I saw my baby girl for the first time, that the thing that makes her different makes her PERFECT. I look back at the unspeakable heartache I suffered, and almost have to laugh at my ignorance. My child is PERFECT. She is exactly how God intended her to be and we wouldn’t change her for anything. The life I lived previously is over, which is exactly as it should be. That life has been replaced with a life full of a kind of love I never even knew existed. It has been replaced with a life of joy and worry and sleepless nights and responsibility. A life full of deep blue eyes, toothless grins, and heart melting giggles. I never want to go back.

Today, I CELEBRATE that my beautiful daughter has Down syndrome. I celebrate the knowledge I have gained and the way my heart and mind have been opened and softened to those who may have disabilities or in some way be ‘different’.  Our journey with our little one has just begun, and I have a feeling that her angelic behavior thus far may be a special blessing for those days and years in the future when her behavior is less than angelic. Still, I wouldn’t change a thing. My heart breaks for those who suffer from such ignorance that they don’t understand the value of each life that graces this earth. My heart breaks for them, and for the lives that are terminated due to their ignorance. If only they knew.


In honor of World Down Syndrome Day, spread the LOVE!!






 
When we were in the hospital when Paige was born, and we were struggling with the "How's" and "Why's" of everything. When we were feeling so scared and so lost, this verse popped into my head and has been on repeat in my brain ever since: 
 
"Trust in the LORD with all thine heart;
and lean not unto thine own understanding.
In all thy ways acknowledge HIM,
and HE shall direct thy paths."
Proverbs 3: 5-6

Sunday, August 25, 2013

Paige Faith Ferre May 03, 2013 7:23 pm 7lbs 11oz, 19.25 in long


Today is mine and Damon’s two and a half year wedding anniversary, and is also the one year anniversary of the day we found out that we were going to have a baby! How amazingly life has changed since we saw that second faint line on that stick!
So so faint, but it's there!!!
I have wanted, for a while now, to write about the birth of our beautiful baby girl. There is so much intense emotion to this story and it is so dear to my heart that I have had a difficult time mustering the courage to sit down and put it all down in writing. I’ve tried a few times already. I hope that by putting it out there, not only will my heart be lifted, but maybe this story might touch the life of someone out there facing a difficult decision. This is a BIRTH story, and though there are details that I will not include in this blog, pregnancy and giving birth is still a graphic process, so if you’re not okay with getting all the details, you are welcome to discontinue reading here. J

As I said before and as I documented in a previous post, we found out we were pregnant on August 25, 2012. It was a Saturday morning that changed our lives! We wanted to proceed with caution when it came to telling all our family and friends about the pregnancy, but I quickly became so sick that it was hard to keep a secret, so we called our families together to tell them our exciting news! The following months were some of the most exciting, and surely the most miserable I had ever experienced. The “morning” sickness kicked in pretty much as soon as I found out I was pregnant, and lasted from the moment I woke up in the morning to the second I fell asleep at night. Then of course I managed to catch a case of bronchitis that I could not kick, so for six months of my pregnancy, not only did I feel terrible, I got to endure the lovely side effect coughing has on a pregnant woman’s body. So much for enjoying pad-free life.

We had a “gender reveal” appointment when I was 16 weeks and found out we were expecting a girl. Such a happy day! Then when I was 18 weeks pregnant, we went for our “big” ultrasound appointment where they check the baby’s growth as well as check organs and all of that development. Seeing your baby’s little profile, tiny hands and feet, perfect little spine and head, all for the first time, one of the most amazing things ever. The equipment the technician was using was brand new to their facility and she was still learning all of the settings, so our appointment took longer than we anticipated, but I didn’t mind for a second. I felt like I was watching the best movie of my life, even though I didn’t know most of what I was seeing, I knew it was my baby! We received a video of the ultrasound as well as photos of her profile, feet, arm, spine, as well as a typical gender reveal photo. On our way home I called my mom and let her know that our baby was definitely a girl and all of her growth and development was looking perfect. After I finished talking to my mom I got the photos out and looked at the tiny profile of my sweet baby girl and for the first time I got a feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Something about that little face that I already loved so much made my heart drop a little. Of course, I didn’t want to believe that the feeling I was having could possibly be right, plus everything with the pregnancy, other than me being miserable, was going so perfectly. I tucked the pictures back into my bag and went back to that blissful excitement of planning for a baby girl! The pregnancy continued to progress perfectly. Growth was perfect, her heartbeat was strong, I never had any spotting or really anything to raise any concern.  Still, every once in a while I would take out the ultrasound picture and get the same sinking feeling. I almost felt guilty. Like I was feeling this way for no reason and there some something wrong with me and my bond with my baby.

Finally, I reached the last month of the pregnancy. Just as things started to settle down with the bronchitis and I was feeling good, the false labor started up. I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions for most of my pregnancy, but the false labor was exhausting. At my 36 week appointment I was already dilated to 2 centimeters!  I was so excited and so ready to be done being pregnant. At each of my following weekly appointments I had progressed a little further, but still no actual labor.

On May 2nd, we went to our regular OBGYN appointment. I was 39 weeks and 4 days pregnant. I was miserable, exhausted, and both Damon and I were getting extremely anxious for the birth of our baby girl. At our appointment I was told that I was now dilated to 5 centimeters! Because of the false labor, how close I was to my due date, and the fact that I was already so dilated; my doctor agreed that I could be induced the next day! We were all betting (including my doctor) that I would just go into labor that night because of the way things were progressing, but either way, we knew that we would very shortly be meeting our little daughter. Damon and I spent the rest of that day doing last minute shopping and enjoying our last evening as a kid-free couple!

I didn’t go into labor that night, but regardless, I don’t think either of us slept very well. We both woke up at about 5:30 ready to call Labor and Delivery at 6 to see when we should go in. We were instructed to be there to check in at 8am. We got to the Hospital just after 8 and were greeted warmly right as we walked in. They showed us our room and introduced us to Krista, our labor and delivery nurse. This woman was amazing. Damon and I could not be more grateful for the experience she helped us have. Right away she put us at ease, answered all of the questions we had as well as any questions we should have had, but didn’t know to ask. This was amazing, because I originally did not want to be induced, and was therefore pretty nervous.

 
The morning before my baby was born!!
 
Just after I had changed into my ever so lovely hospital gown, my parents showed up to help pass the time. I was started on a small amount of Pitocin right off the bat and then we waited. We chatted with my parents for a while and then Damon turned on a video of Bill Engvall the comedian on Netflix, which we all enjoyed. They continued to increase the Pitocin throughout the day, but my contractions were still pretty mild. At 1pm my doctor came in and broke my water. Way less dramatic than I anticipated, but the contractions definitely picked up after that. Damon and my parents took turns going to get lunch and some time after, (my concept of time gets increasingly poor from here on out) I asked for something for the pain. I anticipated getting an epidural, but decided a long time ago that I wanted to experience labor and just see what my body could do. I discussed this with Krista and she said she would support and help me as much as she could as well as show Damon and I different positions and techniques to help manage the pain.
 Posed picture
How I really felt
I was given an intravenous pain killer in the meantime to take the edge off, which made me extremely loopy.The potency of that drug decreased with each use and its effectiveness only lasted about an hour. By the time Damon’s parents got to the hospital I was having pretty severe pain and couldn’t really take part in any conversation. I think I received 2 or 3 doses of the pain killer and then refused an additional one as I could no longer feel its effects. This is where Krista stepped in and instructed us to try different positions and pressure points to help with the pain. Sometime during this I was checked again and measured 6.5 centimeters.  I felt pretty let down by this lack of progression, even though everyone else was applauding the progress.  As the pain got worse we tried using the exercise ball, which I sat on as I leaned over the hospital bed and Damon applied pressure to my lower back. This was helpful and we stayed there until I was in so much pain that I couldn’t help but cry with each contraction despite Damon’s amazing support and instruction.  At that point I basically begged for an epidural.  Before they could call in the anesthesiologist they had to check my progress again.  I had gone from a 6.5 to a 9.5. It was way too late for an epidural.  Our sweet nurse then had me stand up and lean against Damon, who again, applied pressure to my lower back as I rocked back and forth.  We did this until I couldn’t NOT push any longer.  I did quite a bit of reading about labor during my pregnancy and had heard numberless stories of other people’s labors, so I sort of knew what to expect, but even so, the intensity of everything was so much more than I could have imagined. The fact that you get almost complete relief between insane contractions is mind blowing.  I was able to start pushing before the doctor got there. I don’t know how long I pushed, it honestly didn’t seem terribly long when I originally looked back on it, but after asking Damon he assured me that I pushed for a very long time. He guesses about two hours. It was just Damon, my mom, our nurse, and the doctor and they were all such an amazing support group. Damon has since commented about how interesting it was that everyone was so full of praise with every push, but for so much of the time, it didn’t seem like I was getting anywhere. All I know is that I heard the praise. I knew my mom was holding a cool washcloth on my forehead and I had to push the pain away so I could see my baby. Without those things, I would have given up for sure. Finally my doctor put his paper gown on, which is what Krista told me would be the sign that it was business time. Because I had been pushing so long and she still wasn’t here, he ended up giving me a pretty severe episiotomy, which was not on my list of wants, but as soon as I saw her it was obvious that it was necessary. They scooped her up and placed her sputtering purple body on my chest while Damon cut the cord. The first words out of my mouth were ‘Why is she purple?’ Like it wasn’t obvious, but I seemed to be more concerned about it than anyone else.   They proceeded to suck out her nose and mouth and rub her with towels. She still wasn’t quite getting pink enough, so they took her to the warming table and got her cleaned up and got some pink in her skin. When they brought her back, they again laid her on my chest, but this time with her body facing me. I laid eyes on her tiny face and immediately I knew. Her face was so swollen, but still she had the tiniest features and those little slanted eyes. I finally knew what my heart had known for months, my precious baby daughter has Down syndrome. I only got to hold her for a minute or so before they whisked her away for a second time, because she was losing that pink color again. I didn’t really seem to register anything else at that point. My mind went completely numb. Damon and my mom kept coming back and forth between me and the baby and I kept asking, and perhaps this was the wrong thing for me to be asking, but I had to know if anyone else noticed. I kept asking “how does she look?”. The response was always “she looks great”, “she’s looking great”. One of the nurses, there were a few at this point and I didn’t register which one, held up a page with her little foot prints on it. All I could muster was a half-smile. It was like my brain was exploding and imploding on itself all at once. Everyone had told me that having a natural (epidural free, since I wouldn’t exactly consider mine ‘natural’) child birth was so exhilarating. That there was this rush of adrenalin, and you felt amazing and alive afterwards. I felt like I had been hit by a truck. They read off her APGAR score: 7 out of 9. As well as her height and weight: 7lbs, 11oz, 19.25 inches long. 
First ever picture!
The nurse that had been working with the baby said that she was still having some trouble keeping her oxygen levels up, so she was going to take her up to the nursery to ‘keep an eye on her’. It may have just been my brain, but the way she left the room and the look in her eye as she took my baby away made me suspect that she had figured out what I knew. Damon followed her up to the nursery and by the time the doctor was done sewing me up, everyone had cleared out except a nurse. I’m pretty sure she had been there for the delivery, but Krista had gone, and the room was dark, and I was so weak and mentally numb I could barely move. This new nurse then told me that I needed to get up and shower or at least go to the bathroom. I told her that I couldn’t. She said that I needed to, so I lifted my legs over the edge of the bed. I hesitated and asked her if I should just stand up and walk over, and she said yes. So I stood up. As I stood up, blood started flowing, gushing down my legs, soaking my socks and creating a giant puddle on the floor. I hobbled over to the bathroom, leaving a trail of blood the entire way, and sat down, where the nurse attempted to clean me up. I still don’t know if this is normal procedure, but it sure didn’t feel right and as I was sitting in the bathroom I was hit with extreme lightheadedness and couldn’t catch my breath. I told the nurse that I was going to pass out, and her casual response was “Oh, really?”  I’m sure I was white as a sheet, because when she turned to look at me she said she would get a wheelchair, and ran out of the room. She came back in with a gurney (?) which I hobbled over to and sat down on, but I really couldn’t breathe, so I laid down and that seemed to help a little. It was then that Damon came back into the room. He was carrying two sheets of paper and had obviously been crying. He asked the nurse to leave and set the papers down on the bed where I was laying. He stood there. I don’t remember exactly how the conversation went, but through tears he told me “they think she has Down syndrome”…  I calmly responded that I knew. At this point, the love of my life was sobbing in front of me. I could see his world crashing down around him, and I couldn’t even cry.  He asked how I knew and I told him that I knew it as soon as I saw her, and motioned for him to come to me. I couldn’t bring myself to sit up, so he just buried his head in my shoulder and sobbed. Never in my life could I ever imagine a feeling like that. Still, I couldn’t cry. The papers he had brought in were about the NICU, the place I had been adamant that our baby would not be going. Needless to say, this was all a huge adjustment for us. Our baby was full term, the pregnancy was complication free, and our ultrasound had come back normal. We were expecting a smooth delivery and a healthy baby that we could take home within a few days.

The nurse came back in and they wheeled me up to recovery. Damon had the job of telling our families the news. His family was still there, but my parents had gone home for the night. I will never forget the love and support that we received from the incredible people we call family that night and in the following days. Immediately we had arms around us and words of comfort and love were being spoken. My sister-in-law, Ashley, found us a movie to watch, and I was brought some food, which I almost attempted to eat. I still couldn’t cry. Even though my life had just been turned upside down and I was longing for the baby I couldn’t see, I could barely even talk. I was still too numb, but unfortunately the trauma of the night was not over yet. I don’t really remember the order of events, but Damon made the phone call to my Dad, and his family left. The nurse came in again and told me that I needed to get up to go to the bathroom again. I got up and got into the bathroom, but as soon as I sat down I felt extremely faint again. I had a different nurse at this point, but unfortunately, she wasn’t any more helpful than the last. I told her that I was going to pass out, and then I was gone. The next thing I remember seeing is a bathroom full of nurses, and Damon standing in the hallway looking absolutely mortified. They helped me into a wheelchair and then back onto the hospital bed, at which point I started to shake uncontrollably. This was also an experience unlike anything I had been through before. I was completely conscious, but I could not stop my body from this violent shaking. To make matters worse, the nurses looked pretty caught off guard as well. They gave me oxygen and started piling warm blankets over me, and eventually the shaking subsided, but they couldn’t tell us what was going on. My sweet husband, my rock, my love and support had obviously gone through too much. I can’t imagine having to be on his side of things, and would never ever in a million years ask him to go through what I was going through. After this episode, which was probably at around midnight, he called my dad and said he needed him to come back. My parents were immediately on their way (the hospital was about 45 minutes from their house). When my parents arrived, Damon and my dad went down to the NICU to see the baby. We were telling people by that point, that we were naming her Paige.

Proud Daddy
 
 Proud Grandpa
 
While they were gone, the nurse came in, and though she promised to have more people with her to help me to the bathroom this time, she was alone. Again when I sat down I started to feel faint and told her I was going to pass out. She kept telling me to stay awake, to stay up, to look at her, almost as if she was irritated that I was having this problem... Thank goodness my mom was there this time, because she was the one that rushed in to catch me. When I woke up this time it was like the wind had been knocked out of me and I struggled for several seconds to breathe. The room was again filled with anxious looking nurses again and they helped me back into bed and covered me with the warm blankets. Damon and my dad had come back by the time they had me back in bed, and Damon kept telling the nurses that I had lost too much blood. They told him over and over again that they looked at the chart and that my blood loss was within normal limits. He is a stubborn and smart man and continued to tell them that that was the problem and that I needed a blood transfusion. They started running tests at that point to see what was going on as this was obviously a real problem. My wonderful parents agreed to stay with me so Damon could go home and actually get a few hours of sleep. He left the hospital at about 4 am, and my parents literally slept on the floor of the recovery room.

Morning came, though sleep didn’t really, because of the nurses poking and prodding all night long, and my brain that would not stop going. Once I had been up and breakfast was brought in, a wonderful lady doctor, whose name I unfortunately don’t remember, came in to figure out what was wrong with me. She said her main priority was to get me well enough so I could go downstairs and see my baby. Bless her. They took more blood and said they’d be back in a few hours. As we waited I finally ate some food and had a talk with my parents. The numbness had subsided enough for me to talk, and I don’t know how it came about, but as my mom was sitting next to me I finally I burst into tears, telling her that I didn’t want people telling me that they were sorry. I had just given birth to a baby. We brought a new life into this world and it was something to be celebrated. The last thing I wanted was for people to tell me that they were sorry. From there the crying didn’t stop for days. Finally the doctor came back with my blood test results and to everyone, except Damon’s, surprise, I had lost too much blood, and needed a blood transfusion. The doctor told me that I wasn’t going to die if I didn’t get the blood, but that it would probably take about a month for my body to make up the loss, and I would feel terrible for that entire month. I agreed to the blood transfusion. She said it would take a few hours for them to get the blood in and everything set up, so if I felt up to it, I could go down and see my baby. I was taken, by wheelchair, of course, since I couldn’t stand without passing out, down to the NICU, to see my baby daughter. Over 14 hours after she was whisked away in the delivery room, I got to truly hold my baby for the first time. Damon was a NICU pro by then, so he took me in and right to her. He lifted her little swaddled body up out of the heating bed and handed her to me. Talk about overwhelmed. She was still very puffy, but fortunately very pink and so unbelievably beautiful.
Terrible photo of me. But this is the first time I got to hold my baby.
She had an IV in her head for antibiotics because she had developed pneumonia; she was also receiving her nutrition through the same IV. There was a little bag filled with what looked like yellow Gatorade, and a large syringe filled with a white substance that frankly looked like lard. She had the oxygen cannula in her nose as well as the oximeter on her foot. There were also heart monitor patches all over her torso. This was my first real experience holding my little Paige. I was so overwhelmed, but so so in love.

When Paige was born, I had merely a basic knowledge of Down syndrome, so receiving that diagnosis and slowly learning all of the details and the different problems we could be facing was very frightening. About 50% of children with Down syndrome are born with heart defects. This was the first and most terrifying detail that we had to figure out. Paige’s first Echo showed a small hole between her right and left atria. We were told that this was very common, even in typical children, and usually heals on its own, given time. No other problems or defects were found at the time, which was an incredible blessing. The blessings continued, and continue, to pour down on us. Paige was on antibiotics for 5 days, but she mastered drinking from a bottle, which is often a concern with babies with Ds because of their low muscle tone. We brought Paige home on May 14, 2013, which just so happened to be Mother’s Day. It was the most amazing Mother’s Day gift I could ever imagine. She was still on oxygen, so we had to take that home with us, which was a trial, but we learned, and after six weeks, she was strong enough to be taken off of it completely. On May 31st, we went to Primary Children’s Medical Center in Riverton to have a second echo performed to see if the hole in Paige’s heart had healed. The extremely skilled technicians performed the Echo and another EKG. We then spoke with a nice doctor who announced that he doesn’t get to give this news very often, but he wouldn’t need to see us again, because our Paige has a perfectly healthy heart! Music to our ears! The same week we had to have a hearing rescreen because Paige failed her first two hearing tests. She passed her rescreen with flying colors!

These were amazing and relieving weights lifted off our shoulders, but the big picture was still looming. Our child has Down syndrome. What was that going to mean for her life? The picture we had painted in our heads for our family and our daughter’s life were turned upside down and we had to start over. There is no real way to express the sorrow you feel when you get this kind of news. After we received her diagnosis both Damon and I did quite a bit of reading, and I found in one of the books I read a very accurate description of how I was really feeling. The author expressed her feelings as she went through a similar experience as, and I’m paraphrasing, a despair so deep, you feel it with every fiber of your being. That rang true for me, and I felt so unbelievably guilty that I could feel that way. Every parent wants what is best for their child. They want them to have every advantage possible so they can have a happy, successful life. I felt as if I, personally, took that away from her by giving her this syndrome. I have since realized that this thought was wrong on many levels, but those first weeks were some of the hardest I have ever encountered. Somehow, regardless of the numerous people continually telling me that it was ok to be sad and this was a natural grieving process and things will get better, I took the most solace from literature written by other parents who had encountered the same situation. To be able to read a statement from a fellow parent telling me exactly how I was feeling, at that it was OKAY that I was feeling that way, made me feel like it actually was ok. Looking back, almost four months later, I almost, and I say almost, can’t even remember those feelings of despair and fear. I have the most amazing daughter. She has exceeded my expectations in every way, and I never, ever imagined being able to love someone as much as I love her. My daughter has Down syndrome, but as of right now, she is a perfectly healthy, normal baby. She is a sweet, smiley, busy, strong, happy girl and the absolute light of mine and Damon’s lives. The future still holds a lot of unknowns, but I have the best partner I could ask for, and we have the most amazing support group. I thank my Heavenly Father every day for the incredible blessing I have been given. I wouldn’t change what I have for anything.


 

 

Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Bun in the oven

This post was actually written on March 18, 2013, but I didn't ever get around to posting it...

Today I feel like writing. I have wanted to feel like writing for a long time, as so much has happened since my last post, over eight months ago, but the urge never struck and the words weren't there. Today I think I have words.

About this time last year Damon and I started really discussing the possibility of growing our family and having a baby. This has been a dream of mine since I was a kid. I have always loved children and wanted more than anything to have my own opportunity to experience pregnancy and become a mother. We discussed it for a while and decided on a time we felt would be best to start trying.  On Saturday, August 25, our 18 month anniversary, I decided to take a pregnancy test. I knew in my heart that I was, there had been too many signs for me to ignore, but I kept telling my brain to calm down and not get my hopes up. I will not ever forget that morning. After a few minutes I went and fetched the test out of the bathroom and sat back down on our bed. Upon taking it back out of the package and seeing only one pink line, I announced "aaaand, it's negative...... Wait. WAIT!!! NO IT ISN'T!!!!" There it was. My second pink line. So so faint, but definitely there. I was just under 4 weeks pregnant. Damon didn't believe me at this point, but you better believe that I'd read all that packaging before hand and knew very well that it didn't matter how faint, a second pink line meant a baby. I remember just sitting there stunned knowing that our lives were changed forever. There was no going back!

Basically from the moment I found out for certain that I was pregnant, I was sick. It actually even started the evening before. Just with achiness and extreme fatigue. This is a major reason I haven't written down any of this until now. For some reason, I was sure that I was going to be one of those women who adored being pregnant. It was something that I wanted so badly for such a long time, how could I not enjoy every second of it? Oh man was I wrong. This has been the most difficult thing I have ever done. I was very naive. Between the horrible "morning" sickness that lasted 24/7 from about week 6 to week 16 or 17 and the bronchitis I caught in September that lasted until February, I don't think I had ever been so miserable for so long. As bitter as it was (and still is. This third trimester stuff is the pits as well) there is a sweetness that can't be described. On December 4, 2012, we got to have our 18 week ultrasound and see our beautiful baby GIRL. Seeing her beautiful little profile and her perfect little arms and legs was enough to make any pain or discomfort go away at least for a while. Damon was over the MOON with joy when we found out we are having a girl. He's wanted a girl from the very beginning and was practically glowing as we drove home. I was expecting it to be a boy, and was prepared for it to be a boy, so I was a little shocked, but so excited, and that excitement has only grown. We are definitely meant to have this little girl.

I started feeling movement pretty early on. What felt like normal digestion bubbles and movement became stronger and much more frequent and I believe it was when I was sixteen weeks that I decided for sure that it was her moving. Those movements just keep getting stronger! I am now 33 weeks and 2 days and this kid is a kick boxer. Movement is so good and so strong (and getting more and more uncomfortable for me). Overall everything with the pregnancy has been very healthy. I am endlessly grateful.

Only 6 weeks and 5 days to go. It can't seem to come soon enough. Even though these last few months have flown by, I continue to get more and more uncomfortable and I'm sure these last weeks are going to be really difficult. My old friend first-trimester-nausea seems to be creeping back and adding that to my decreasing mobility and overall pain and achiness is just cruel. It will be worth it, I know, but there sure are a lot of un-pleasantries that associate themselves with pregnancy.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Birthday weekend!!

So Wednesday a few weeks ago (yeah I'm a little late writing this) was Damon's birthday. I'm not great at planning, but this was a big birthday and I really wanted to do something special. I planned way ahead and took months to scour my brain for fun ideas and ways to show him how grateful I am that he is here. Birthdays are definitely different as an adult than they were as a child. When you're a kid it's all about presents. The rest of the year you don't worry a whole lot about what goes on for other peoples birthdays. As an adult you almost try to forget that it's your own birthday. But for the people around you, it's an opportunity to celebrate the fact that you were born and how grateful they are for your life. This is how I feel anyway. I have to say my planning paid off; we both took Wednesday through Friday off, so we had a whole weekend just to play!


Wednesday morning we both woke up early and headed downtown to have breakfast at Market Street. We had an amazing leisurely breakfast with all the fixings and then headed to temple square. We spent an hour or so just walking the grounds and enjoying the visitors centers. It was the PERFECT morning for a walk. Beautiful weather, no crowd, it was wonderful.
The Salt Lake City Temple, and UPSIDE DOWN DAISIES I want some of these.


After this we strolled across the street to City Creek to explore the shops, since neither of us had been there before. I was pretty impressed, and again grateful that there was not a crowd. We did a little shopping and then went and saw a MOVIE. This never happens, so maybe it was more of a gift from Damon to me... or me to me. Anyway, we finally saw The Avengers, which was just as awesome as everyone has been saying for weeks. And because we apparently needed a reminder as to why we rarely go see movies, we both walked out of the theatre with killer headaches. We decided that this would be a good time to check into our room. I didn't tell Damon exactly where we were going before hand, so it was a surprise as we drove up to a beautiful Victorian style bed and breakfast in the Avenues. This place was adorable and our host was so sweet! I had never been to a B&B before, so I wasn't sure what to expect, but I was pleasantly surprised by the service and hospitality. I took a nap to get rid of my headache and our host made us chocolate chip cookies. We relaxed for a while there and then decided to drive up the mountain and take a short hike so we could look out over the valley.
For dinner we did something really fun, that I would recommend to anyone who has the time and ability. Damon called it a "tour" of Salt Lake City. First, we went to Bambara for an awesome appetizer. We had the "All Local Cheese Board" which came with olives, salami and grilled bread. I'm kind of a cheese freak so this was absolutely delicious. Our waiter was kind of a snot, so it wasn't disappointing to leave after just the appetizer.


Next we went to the Cheesecake Factory for our main course. This is one of our FAVORITE places to eat. Their sweet potato fries are to die for.


Lastly, for dessert, we went to the Melting Pot. If you haven't been there before, GO. We had PB&J chocolate fondue. It was amazing and fun! Now we just have to save up our pennies so we can go back to do the whole meal!
I forgot to take a picture of the beautiful food when it got there. I was too excited.


At this point we were both pretty much exploding and on the verge of food coma, so we decided to call it a night...
The next morning we had a surprisingly delicious breakfast (fruit, sorbet, french toast, sausage, juice, etc...) and headed home.
Damon worked on his Halloween stuff for most of the rest of the weekend, which he loved, so I would call it a success! He told me I set the standards pretty high for next year, to which I responded that he only gets the special treatment every 10 years or so... :)

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Leftovers

So I am one of seemingly few lucky girls that ends up marrying a fantastic cook. Seriously. Which is a good thing, because cooking is certainly not my forte, though I can bake a mean cookie. Anyway, this past weekend, Damon decided he wanted to do some entertaining, so we invited our parents and available siblings over to our house for Sunday dinner. I should probably note that this kind of thing completely stresses me out, so unfortunately I can't take any credit for the masterpiece that was our dinner on Sunday.


If any of you have ever been to Cheesecake Factory hopefully you have had the opportunity to try their Thai lettus wraps (try it with salmon instead of chicken. You will love yourself). It's a favorite of ours so last time we were there, we got a bottle of their amazing Thai peanut sauce. We weren't sure what to do with it so we went super original and decided to make our OWN Thai lettus wraps. Damon of course went all out and did chicken, salmon and shrimp, plus all the veggies and everything to go with. I of course didn't take pictures, but it was beautiful and absolutely delicious. It was also surprisingly easy, or would have been if he didn't do so many different options. So if you can't make it to the Cheesecake Factory, give it a try yourself!


Damon always makes enough food for three times the people that are actually going to be eating so naturally, we have leftovers. Oh left overs. The possibilites are endless...
Last night we had salmon and cream cheese stuffed crescent rolls. AMAZING. Amazing enought that I thought to take a picture and ended up writing a blog about it.

Tuesday, April 17, 2012

April 18, 2009

April 18th marks three years since my accident. It still hits hard after three years. I am reminded of it and think about it more than I’d like to admit.


On April 18th, 2009 I headed home from Damon’s house. It was late Friday night/Saturday morning and we had just watched most of Supersize Me. Damon and I had only been dating for about a month and a half, but I was getting pretty comfortable with the commute from his house in Draper to my house in Orem. I was driving on I15 through AF in the left lane when a vehicle from the carpool lane swerved into my lane.  Automatically, I swerved so I wouldn’t get hit. I over corrected, and ended up losing control of the family suburban. I remember looking up at the lights of the overpass ahead and realizing that I wasn’t going to be able to regain control. The next few hours are still completely lost for me, but here is what I am told.

The suburban crossed three lanes of traffic, rolled down an embankment and flipped end-over-end landing upside down in a parking lot.  There was a man who saw the suburban leave the road. Witnesses said that he stopped his car on the side of the freeway and ran over the now  torn down fence, down the embankment, and into the parking lot where the suburban landed. He called 911. Somehow I was able to give him my dad’s cell phone number and he called my dad. I don’t know how old he was, what he looked like, or where he was going on the freeway that night. What I do know, is that his name was Spencer. As he waited for the emergency vehicles to arrive, he got down on the ground next to me, he held my hand and he prayed that I would be okay. I don’t know exactly what it is about this that makes me so weepy. Maybe it’s the fact that I was a complete stranger to him. Maybe it’s the realization that my Heavenly Father, for many reasons, couldn’t keep the accident from happening that night, but still he provided for me exactly what I needed. I am humbled and eternally grateful.

By the time my dad arrived, the ambulance and other emergency vehicles were already there. It took 45 minutes and the Jaws of Life to remove me from the suburban. My dad said the emergency crew was SO good and SO happy when I was finally out and they were able to determine that I was stable. I had an obvious head injury and was complaining that my back hurt. They were concerned about a possible spinal injury and with my dad’s go-ahead, called in life-flight. I was taken to Utah Valley Regional Medical Center where I underwent numerous tests. I have a few tiny memories of my time at the hospital. I remember a sweet nurse telling me that I was going to be okay and they would get me somewhere more comfortable soon. I also remember waking up and seeing my dad standing over me. He sat with me and picked dirt and glass out of my hair for hours waiting for news. He also had to answer me over and over again as I repeatedly asked what happened. (I feel unfathomably guilty for putting him through that. All of it) After 5 or 6 hours of testing, waiting, a tetanus shot, and pain killers I was discharged. I was wheeled out of the hospital but walked into my house on my own. I was diagnosed with a compression fracture to my T5 vertebrae, which they couldn’t do anything for. I also had a significant concussion and a cut on my right hand which required 7 stitches.

I have the most amazing family in the world. I mentioned before that I have a lot of guilt about what I put my family through, even though I had no control over it, the knowledge of what that night was for them makes me sick. My life has changed in so many ways since April of 2009. I am grateful EVERY DAY for the beautiful life I have and the love I share with my family.

I ended up using a back brace for about a month, against my will. The fracture was in such an odd place that they weren’t really sure how to help. So the goal was just to keep it from getting any worse. I had to quit my job at the fabric store and spent three long months unemployed and recovering. After wearing the back brace I started physical therapy and continued that for 8 months. I continue to see a chiropractor about once a month. Other than being a bit achy after exerting myself, I have no physical symptoms or signs that I was ever in an accident that serious. Now I have a daily reminder that the Lord has a plan for me, in the form of a scar on my right hand.  

Here I am in my "Buddy" as Damon nicked named it.

Here are some more pictures. THESE make me cry. I have some sort of emotional attachment to this suburban. For months after the accident, any time I saw a truck of the similar model in a similar color my heart would stop.