The Difference a Year Can Make

Every year, Special Beginnings, the birth center where I delivered Axton, has a party where all the families who have delivered babies there are invited. They have blow-up bouncers, cake, face painting, and you can walk around and socialize with the midwives and other Birth Center Moms.

I remember this weekend last year, I got an email invite for this same party. It was totally discouraging because even though my due date had already come, Axton was still in me. Technically, I wasn't really invited because I hadn't had a baby there yet. And to add to that, technically I couldn't celebrate Mother's Day, either, because I hadn't met my baby yet. So I was just bumming that whole weekend, this time last year.

But tonight we went, and I felt like I was finally crossing it off my list. We had other plans, and we got there just as they were cutting the cake, but I felt accomplished just showing up. *Click* A little piece of my Birth Story Puzzle snapped into place, making me feel a little more whole, a little more complete.

 I found one of the midwives, Suzannah, that was there with me that night, almost a whole year ago. She had a six-month-old baby and I realized she must have been pregnant when Axton was born. She didn't remember us, and neither did Nurse Andrea (don't know who I'm talking about? You can read my birth story here). Not that I thought they would. I asked her if I could take a picture with her and Andrea and she said, "Of course." Then she walked over to Nurse Andrea and said, "Andrea, she wants to take a picture with us. We caught her baby."

My heart stopped for a second when I heard her say that: Caught. 

She was right - they did not deliver my baby. I did that. I pushed him out of me, I worked the hardest I ever had in my life, I cried and felt that pain and that burning and that tearing, it was my voice that pierced the night as he finally left my body -- All they did was simply catch him as he left me.

*Click* Another piece.

And while Suzannah and Andrea might not have remembered me, do you know who did remember me? Nurse Laurel. The nurse that sat on the bed with me and held my hand while Adam took a 30 minute break. The nurse that told me to "Blow it all away," who calmed my nerves and talked to me in a soothing voice. When I saw her I said, "You were my nurse the night I had my baby. You sat on my bed and held my hand. I'll never forget you."

Her eyes lit up and she said, "I DID get on the bed with you, didn't I? I got right on that bed and laid down next to you. I remember that! Dad needed food, so I sent him away, didn't I? ....I told him I wouldn't leave your side, that I would take care of you."

I just nodded, trying not to tear up. Yes, you did say all that, and you did all that.
"Thank you." I told her, finally saying the two words I had wanted to tell her earlier but had been too out of it to do so before she left.

*Click*

And then we went into the room where I delivered Axton. I stared at the wallpaper, its pink flowers suddenly so familiar. I've looked through what few, crummy photos we have of Axton's delivery countless times in the past year (usually with a sigh, wishing I had had a birth photographer there). For some reason, we have two photos of the wall - the nurse must have accidentally taken them.

I've looked at them and wondered why I kept them, uploaded them, click through them - and yet, still haven't deleted them. I guess it's because they tell a tiny part of my story and I can't get rid of even that little detail. But tonight, seeing them in person again, those walls are what brought it all back to me. So many emotions slammed into me like a wave, and I had to sit down. I suddenly began to feel anxiety, as all these memories flooded back to me. There was the rocking chair in the corner I sat on after I got out of the shower, where Adam brushed my hair and drops of water dripped down my back, causing me to shake violently. There was the toilet I had sat on backwards after the nurse suggested it, but I felt so balled up and clammed up that I didn't last long. The exercise ball I had sat on after they broke my water, and I swore I could feel his hard head slamming against my pelvic bone now that the sack of water wasn't there to cushion things. I had sat on that ball and rocked, my head on the bed. That was when we had heard a newborn cry next door, and Adam told me he felt the presence of angels in our room. The tub I sat in as the pressure moved its way down my body, so hard and so heavy I had to lift myself off the tub so I could float in the water. I felt and saw all these things again, and all I could sense in me then was fear and pain...and panic. I knew then I'd have to do it again, one day. That I'd be back - perhaps in a different room or a different state. With a different child and a different midwife - but the rest would be the same. I had to take a few deep breaths as I sat and thought about it all.

--- And then, suddenly, a midwife walked in. She said hi, told us how cute our baby was. Axton took a few steps towards her and my heart burst into a thousand tiny stars. She took our picture and as I heard the *Click* of the shutter -- another moment stopped in time, just as it had a year ago when they took our first family photo --- I knew I could do it. Again. I survived it once, and I'll continue to survive it. If only because I see the beauty and the joy and the love that comes from it.

Here is simultaneously the best and worst photo ever taken of me. It was taken the night Axton was born - obviously I'm fat and swollen and exhausted and have broken blood vessels in my cheeks and eyes, but what really kills me is the damn chocolate in my teeth. Seriously? Someone could have told me. I never thought I would be brave enough to share it with anyone, but I guess that's the difference a year can make. You gain weight, you lose weight (you eat chocolate, you brush your teeth), your son grows up and you shed a tear but you rejoice in the year you had with him. You cherish the bond that's been strengthened with your husband, and you keep going forward.

I can't believe my son will be one in a week. I can't believe I'm celebrating Mother's Day this year as this boy's mother. That night, one year ago, was the hardest of my entire life. But I will forever be grateful to myself for going through it, to Adam for never leaving my side, to God for giving me my son. Happy Mother's Day to me!

Hawaii: My Second Semester OR The Semester With the World's Craziest Roommates (including myself)

My second semester at BYU-Hawaii was a heck of a lot more fun than the first one. I finally started to live - and to enjoy the fact that I lived on a beautiful island.

Shout-out to my British Sistah!!

My first step was to move out of my tiny, tiny dorm room (seriously, they were about the same size as a walk-in closet, and you had to share it with another person), and into a house with four other girls. Since I didn't go home over the Christmas break, I was the first one into the house. I fell in love with the place. I missed it when I was away from it. I found so much peace and contentment being in that home - for the first time in probably my entire life, I finally felt like I had found..... home. 

My little bed that I hardly ever slept in because I was always sleeping with my roommate. 

Well shortly thereafter I met the four girls I was going to spend the next few months with. I liked them all right away, and to this day I still love them. They were all so different. I know we didn't always get along (I suppose that's pretty typical for 5 girls living in one house, right?) but man I wouldn't have traded a single one of them. I don't know if any of my roommates read this blog, but if you do I hope you know I LOVE YOU. And please don't hate me for sharing these crazy stories about us.....  You have to admit, these stories are too priceless to not be told. I will try to keep them as anonymous as possible, out of respect to them, and I won't post any photos of my roomies.

So, without further ado, here are just some of the things we had going on in that house of crazy women:

- One day I came home to one of my roommates crying because she thought she had Toxic Shock Syndrome. Because she had a tampon in all day.

- One of my roommates walked around the house in her underwear, no matter the time of day.

- One of my roommates changed from regular clothes to tiny booty shorts when she knew our (young, attractive) home-teachers were coming over to (try to) give us a spiritual message.

- One of my roommates referred to herself as "Beyonce - AKA The Golden Booty Goddess." She would leave me notes like this on my bed:

Or give me coupons like this for my birthday:

- One of my roommates was lactose intolerant. We always knew when she ate ice cream because she would stink up the entire house.

- One of my roommates liked to steal my clothes without asking. It used to bug the crap out of me. I would confront her about it and sometimes she would admit to it, sometimes she would deny it. But I finally caught her when I saw a picture of her posted on Facebook wearing one of my shirts.

- I slept with one of my roommates almost every single night. Yes, in the same bed. No matter what. And no we aren't lesbians.

- One of my roommates was a vegetarian and we would always yell at her when she microwaved her Bocca burgers because they smelled like farts.

- I tried to go clubbing with one of my roommates on two different occasions, and both times we failed. Both times we got lost there and back, eventually found our way, chickened out, tried to find a hotel to stay in, and then just ended up driving home at 3am.

- One of my roommates liked to call me Multiple Sclerosis because my initials were M.S. Once she called me that on Facebook and she got yelled at by someone who really had MS.

- We kept a quote wall up, and I wish I still had those papers but I don't. Here are a few, though:
"I kill you."
"What's that?"
"I want that!"
"Touch my black face."
"You look so hot right now."
"What are you wearing?"
"Word to your mother"
"Motherrrrrr"
And, anytime someone didn't hear what you said, and asked, "What?" you just simply replied, "I said I like your shirt."

But the winner of them all?

- One of my roommates killed a baby chick. And it was even the vegetarian roommate.
Here's what happened. Chickens run around everywhere on Oahu, and this particular roommate thought it would be fun to have a baby chick as a pet, because they are so cute and fluffy? I'm not really sure. So she caught one, brought it home, and named it Two-Ply because he was going to live in a toilet paper box. That night I went to bed, as usual, in my other roommate's bed. When we woke the next morning, we were confronted by our Roomie. She said, "I have to tell you something, and you're going to think I'm a terrible person." Needless to say, we were a little freaked out and assured her it was going to be okay. She then proceeded to tell us that little Two-Ply had kept her up all night with his chirping, and by 5 in the morning,she had, quite literally, gone a little crazy from not sleeping.
"So, what did you do?" I asked.
"I took him to the ocean," she replied.
Now, this didn't sink in all the way at first. "Oh good, she set him free," I thought.
But then she continued. "I mean, I thought about putting him out in my car but I thought it'd get too hot in there and he'd suffocate. And then I read online that once you get your human scent on the chick, the mama hen won't take him back. So if I just let him loose, he'd die anyway."
I stared at her. A minute ticked by. And then it finally clicked.
"........What do you mean you 'took him to the ocean'?"
"That's what I'm saying! I drowned him in the ocean! I thought it would be the easiest way to do it."
My eyes grew to the size of my now-open mouth as I realized that my roommate was in fact a Chick-Killer.
"You drowned a baby chick?????" Of all the possible things you could do!!! I was floored. My other two roommates heard the news and were so distraught they spent the rest of the morning at the beach, trying to see if they could find its dead body washed up on shore (which was, yes, another crazy thing to do).




So you see? I wasn't lying about the crazy roommates (and again, roomies, if you're reading this, I LOVE YOU! Yes, even you, Chick Killer!) And even with all this chaos going on in my home, I still managed to declare a major (English!), maintain my babysitting job and photographer job, be President of the English Circle Club, date some boys (including my now-husband!), hike all over Oahu, work on my tan, eat Acai bowls as often as I could, and snorkel with the sea turtles. I even started a list of things I wanted to do before I left:

The best part about my second semester - besides meeting my husband - was when my "Little Sister" aka best friend from high school came to visit me. 

I took her out to eat the night she flew in. As soon as the waiter took our order, she got so excited she flung out her arms to give me a hug - she ended up Chuck-Norris-Punching her glass and shattered it everywhere. To this day I still have no idea how she did that, other than sheer excitement to see me.

She stayed for a week, we went exploring and dancing and hiking and swimming and she got FRIED to the max. We had to rub ice cubes and aloe vera all over her body and set her in front of our fan.

 She met my boyfriend (Adam), and she told me she'd kick my butt if I didn't marry him. Good thing I listened :)

 Man, it was the life. You'll have to wait for another post to read about meeting Adam, because this one is already getting too long. Until then, internet!

The Birthday Month

I was doing really good with not eating too many sweets during my pregnancy ----      

until about, Oh, February time. That's when Valentine's Day, Adam's birthday, and my birthday, all hit within 3 weeks of each other. And once I got a good taste of it, my cravings haven't been the same since!

For Adam's birthday he requested a few things:
1) A big glorious breakfast with eggs, hashbrowns (the pre-packaged kind), blueberry muffins, and doughnuts (I threw in the fruit just for good measure, but he didn't eat much of it)

2) Funfetti cake with vanilla ice cream

3) Pizza for dinner
4) A stress-free day

We ended up also going bowling spur-of-the-moment. My belly was about the same size as the 8 pound bowling ball I was using but I still made it through four games, and Adam played an additional three by himself (7 games!!!!). I tried to get a picture but my camera battery died before I could.




And then I turned 22 last week!

Last year for my birthday we were living with Noe and her family and they took me out to one of my favorite Italian restaurants, Buca Di Beppo's:

But this year I am pregnant with a boy and I wanted some MEAT!!!

So I requested Famous Dave's!!

Adam snuck a message to the waitress that it was my birthday and I got a sundae with a FIREWORK in it. Here I am laughing at the waitress, who is telling us that most people don't get their camera out in time to catch the flame -- go figure.

Don't be silly, of course I still had my cake and ice cream waiting for me at home, even after this one. 

And not just any cake --- but BTS cake. I've been requesting this cake every birthday for the past 7+ years. It's so moist and rich and yummy and easy to make.

If you can't tell, I accidentally started cutting my cake before Adam had a chance to sing to me. And also, I like my Heath bits to be crunchy when I eat my cake, and they get soggy on the whip cream if you leave them on there. So I only Heath my cake a little at a time.

And because my mom's a very excited grandma, I got a few unusual goodies in my birthday package that I can only assume weren't exactly for me:

Adam got me lots of fun things for my sewing and crafting addiction (you never know how nice it is to have a good pair of scissors until you get one --- In comparison to my new scissors, I might as well have been cutting material with a block of wood the last year!) He also got me Adele's cd which I love!

Next up on my list of excuses to eat junk food: Pi Day, St. Patty's Day, and Easter!

Happy Birthday to the Man of My Dreams!

My husband turns 26 years old today.

Birthdays are kind of a big deal to me - I love to be spoiled on mine, and I love to spoil on others'. But Adam is a pretty chill guy and when I try to figure out what he would want or do for his birthday, he is content with a small cake at home with just him and I and minimal presents. We were talking the other day about the best way to celebrate a birthday and Adam said, "Birthdays are a time to celebrate a person's life, their having been born, not to spoil them."

And so I got to thinking. How do I honor the day that my husband was born? How do I thank God for not only giving Adam a body (and a nice one, at that) and a chance to come to earth, but also for somehow allowing our two seemingly separate and distant lives to collide in such a way that we would meet and fall in love and decide to spend not just the rest of our lives together, but the rest of eternity? 


How do I say thank you to Adam for asking me to be His Wife? For accepting and loving and honoring me?

How do I say "I'm glad you're alive and mine and the father of my son and today is special because 26 years ago you were born and then you lived and grew and learned and developed and then we met and my whole world changed,"?

I don't know how to do it.

Adam is an amazing man.

He was born into such a beautiful, loving family. He very much honors his mother and father. He cherishes their opinions and shows gratitude to them for having raised him in such a wonderful environment. He looks back on his childhood with fondness.

He is close to his siblings - they are some of his best friends. This was tough competition for me when we first started dating!

Not only do they love him tremendously, but his ginormous heart is filled with just as much love for them in return. He is a fantastic Uncle, and I knew right away he would make such a great father. 

He is just as loyal to his friends as he is his family. Ben and him are tight, and we both think of Ben as another brother. 

He served an honorable mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

He sacrificed two years of his life in the service of the Lord, pushing himself beyond his comfort level and limits. He taught and preached what he knows in his heart to be true, and was brave enough to open his mouth and share it with the world. 

Adam kept his body and mind pure and worthy to be married in the temple of the Lord. 

This means he is moral, he doesn't drink, he doesn't smoke, and doesn't swear, and overall he is a Christ-like person. He is an incredibly good example to me of someone who is committed. 

He is such a great husband. I have especially learned this as I have gotten more and more pregnant the last 7 months. He rubs my feet and back and arms and lets the dog out so I don't have to and makes me dinner. He tells me I don't need make up and that my growing belly is beautiful and that he can't wait to become a dad.

Adam has many talents. One of them is his artistic abilities. He has an eye for design and color, and I am always asking him for advice with my photos and graphic designs. 

He is also a wonderful singer and actor. He was in many plays throughout college and I always loved watching him perform. He absolutely knows how to capture an entire audience and make them laugh and love him.

Adam is an incredibly hard worker. Physically, he has worked construction on several homes. He wakes up every morning, earlier than I ever thought I would see him rise!, and goes to work in an environment where he is constantly learning new things. Mentally, he is always coming up with bigger and better ways of doing things, and he sets out to accomplish them right away. He graduated from college with a degree in Information Technology and minors in Computer Science and Information Systems. Spiritually, he is the Young Men's president in our ward and he puts so much time and effort and wisdom in leading them. 

Lastly, Adam knows how to have fun. I laugh daily with him. We dance in the kitchen and sing in the shower and use funny accents and tickle and tease and play and are weird and silly

 -- and we do this every.day. 

So, knowing all that about him, and knowing how full my heart is with love towards him and gratitude for being blessed with him as my husband, I am left with inadequate ways of saying 

Happy Birthday,

and

Thank you

But at least I have the rest of eternity to keep trying.

I love you Adam.

My one and only.

My hero.

My husband.