Tuesday, August 16, 2011

The Miscarriage and A Big Freakin' Thank You

We had a miscarriage. 

Perhaps you didn't even know we were expecting?  Don't feel left out.  We tried to keep it pretty quiet, and for obvious reasons, I do not regret that decision. 

It has been almost two weeks since the miscarriage and nearly three since we became aware that our first pregnancy would not end the way we had hoped. 

We found out we were pregnant in mid-June and scheduled our first OB appointment the first week in August.  The pregnancy was normal, all of the usual symptoms - nausea, vomiting, zits, dizziness, food aversions, and etc.  We were very excited, obviously.  The symptoms began to decrease around week 9, and at week 10, I no longer felt nauseous.  Hallelujah right? 

First point of gratitude - we can get pregnant once, we can certainly do that again.

At the appointment, I was very nervous.  I usually am for big life moments.  After we spoke to the doctor, we went in for the ultrasound.  When the ultrasound was performed, the only thing we could see was a circle.  After some measuring, and a couple very long moments of silence, my doctor then explained that instead of the 11 weeks I should be measuring , I was only measuring 6.  He also did not find a heartbeat that should be detectable by then.  He called it a missed miscarriage.   After that I don't remember a lot of specifics other than him telling me the three most important things to remember were that it wasn't my fault, it wasn't my fault, and of course, it wasn't my fault.

Gratitude point #2 - kind doctors are so much appreciated.  They deserve every penny they make.

We had the option of waiting for my body to figure it all out, or have a D&C procedure.

I had a D&C procedure done the next Wednesday.  It was very quick, painless, and every person in same day surgery was nice and extremely empathetic.  I remember the CRNA telling me he was so sorry and that he knew having a miscarriage this way with a first pregnancy must be really difficult.  See?  So nice!  It felt like a really good point to start over. 

Gratitude point #3 - Starting over is good.

I had a meltdown when I went back to work a couple days later.  I suspect my hormones played a role in the ugly cry face I displayed as I bawled for an hour and a half at work.  Every single person I work with was compassionate, loving, and supportive.  They didn't judge me for being a hot mess. 

Gratitude point #4 - I work with really great women. I got really lucky.

Throughout this situation, our immediate family and our friends have been there to help and support us in any way that they could.  All of the flowers, calls, and text messages were extremely comforting and meant more than words can adequately express.  I love our people.

#5 - Our people are too good to us.  We love you so much!

Last, but most importantly of all - that man I married.  We do everything as a team, and we did this as a team.  Having a baby meant (and means) as much to my husband as it did to me.  He is really the only person who understands me, and the only person strong enough to accept me through it all.  Even when I am crazy.  Even when I am sad, lonely, and frustrated.  He is it.  He is my rock.  I do not deserve such a man.

#6 -  By the grace of God, I met and married my soul mate.

I feel very much like my pre-preggo self, but with added appreciation for our many friends and family who have been endlessly supportive and loving.  Thank you all so much for being there for us during this little bump in the road. 

We love and appreciate you all more than you know!!!!

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Trying to Make Words That Don't Exist.

I can't sleep. As I lay here in bed, I cannot stop thinking about my friend Sara.  Sara's brother Chad was tragically killed in a plane crash in Wendover on Wednesday night.

There are not words sufficient enough in any language to describe how she feels, nor how sorry I am as her friend.  Sorry that there is absolutely nothing I can do to take away the all-encompassing grief I know she is experiencing.  You cannot spare someone from the pain of losing a loved one, and that in and of itself, is a wretched thing. 

If I could, I would.

Sara, she is an amazing sister.  And I mean that in the way that I think it is a talent she has.  She is so fiercely loyal and giving.  Chad's fight was always her own.  However she could be there, she was.  There will never be a question of how much she loves her brother.  She shows it every single day. 

I am incredibly lucky to call her my friend.

(On an end note, although I had met Chad at different Wade family functions, I did not know him personally.  Regardless, it is obvious the extensive positive effect his life has had on others.  My sincerest apologies and condolences go out to the Wade family).

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Wishing the Rest of the World was Awake at 2:00 a.m.

It's been a strange and busy month or so getting back into the groove of being back at the hospital.  I don't yet feel that I am completely on my game, but getting there.  The major difficulty is just getting used to the schedule, but that much I expected and understood when I took the job. 

All in all it is fantastic being back and I sincerely love taking care of little ones and being a part of one of the biggest events in peoples lives.  It is a really cool job.

Lately I have been engrossed in school, planning school for Shaner, and trying to keep on top of a social life, and oh yea, dealing with a broken puppies. 

Mol broke her leg in two places about a week ago and a half.  I suppose that doesn't seem like a big deal, but let me explain.  She just simply landed on it funny and yelped.  When Shane picked her up she started making this terrible screaming noise and bit his arm a couple times (hard enough to draw blood), so we knew she was hurt.  Luckily, we were able to drive to the vets office and they took x-rays and loaded her up with some morphine.  Puppy was high as a kite!  It was obvious that she had broken it, but it was a maybe on the surgery front at that point because the bone was still in perfect position.  They just wrapped her leg and told us prevent the bone from moving.......It was quite the sitch.  She couldn't walk, so we carried her everywhere to make sure she didn't bear weight, including using the bathroom, eating, etc.  She would wake up every few minutes and try to walk on it, or turn on the other side and end up yelping.  We had to watch her constantly.  Shaner and I ended up taking turns sleeping, whoever needed it most, because who wants to shell out $2,000 for their dog to have surgery?  Not I.  We watched her like a hawk and ended up avoiding the surgery, but it was extremely frustrating.  I am so glad we didn't have to do the surgery, and I have a job that allowed for us to keep such a good eye on her.  My parents where lifesavers - they took Bruce for a few days because poor dog was being completely neglected and he likes their house better anyway.  It sounds like a lot of stupid effort for a dog, but I feel responsible as an dog owner to make sure they are healthy.  I bought the dog, I gotta follow through. 

If we take having dogs this seriously, just imagine what us discussing having children looks like - HA!

I apologize for not being "there" as much as I have previously for everyone, life lately seems like a constant adjustment and I feel like I hav't been as good of a friend, sister, sister-in-law, daughter, and etc. as I should be.  I am sorry.  I will do better.  Love ya!

Here are a few pics of the ordeal (thanks to the pretty new cam the hubby bought for me - he is more than I deserve):

Pre-Brokeness -

Post-break -

This is why she couldn't be left alone - This happened in only two hours, and do you see the new pink cast on that right leg?  Awesome.  That WAS a foam pad under a dog bed and blakets when we left.  Ha!

And just some other random canine goodness with the new camera until we can get out of the house for some new photo subjects:p.

Love this mug - Obviously!

The saddest eyes you ever saw.  I love me a basset hound!

Now that is a happy dog!

Thursday, February 24, 2011

"It Has Been So Long Since I Blogged That I Don't Remember How To Get Into My Blog"

That title is exactly what I said as I was trying to hack into my blog just now.  Oy Vey! 

There were even rumors of a phantom blogging around here.....Sounds kind of exciting!

Truth is, I have missed blogging, but I have been in a state that I didn't feel appropriate to blog about.  It's not you, really, it was me!!!!  Maybe I needed a small or large life adjustment (hint: maybe always means yes in Sovician)? I am changing careers - again! Try really hard to stifle your surprise.

I will blog more about that Tuesday. 

Today I had the realization that I become extremely passionate about all sorts of things when it is about that time of the month.  Truely!  I become all letter writting, petition signing, and justice seeking.  For instance, I adopt words like unfathamable! and obsurd!  It's kind of fun somtimes, this monthly alter ego.  She's all sorts of assertive that I am not.  Acutually, she is fun until she turns all weepy and unreasonable.  I don't claim that as a permanent part of my personality either.


This blod entry was pretty random, but hey, credit for blogging once in a blue moon!

Excuse me while I get back to The Big Bang Theory and a little bit of this:

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

My Blog Isn't Dead, And Neither Am I

During my blogging hiatus, I kept thinking I really need to blog this or that and, well, I didn't.  I didn't blog for a great long while.  And it was actually kind of nice.  I hate for this blog to feel like just another thing to do.  That type of thinking clogs the pipes in my brain, ya know?  But, I'm back.  My blog didn't die, just took a break. 

Basically, summer came and went with me wishing it's fantastic-ness would come back.  This summer may have been the best of my life - first married summer, first summer with Bruce-a-saurous Rex, lazy nights, walks by the lake, homemade jam with rasberries from the farmer's market, and my love built us a fence (with some much needed help - and I don't mean me).  Can you see why I would want it back?

Now fall is in full swing, and actually, it rocks too.  School has reached mid-term, and that makes me really totally exstatic.  I am half way there baby! 

All I want for Christmas is that stinkin' diploma.

We have been exercising a bit lately, and I have come to appreciate the stress relief of working out. We mostly just ride the upright bikes at the gym, but I have caught some sort of "biking bug". I love it. I have hated running, but made myself do it out of necessity. I always felt like I was bopping around, trying really hard to go fast, and always ended up being so so so SSLLLLOOOOWWWW. Wtf? The only drawback of the gym biking is that our tiny gym has only two upright bikes. Shane and I go together. There is always some friggin random on one bike - I don't want to sit next to them. I want to sit next to him.

You see, I have a system that induces my comfort while working out, which in turn makes me work out harder (because yes, I am a little OCD). The slightest variation just throws off my rhythm. It is as follows:

 - Shane and I ride side by side (so we can talk),

 - on the upright bikes,

 - while I read my textbook (can we say multi-tasking?),

 - and we go 9-10 miles per 1/2 hour.

This is a problem for the rest of the Daybreak gym patrons. I have to disclose now - I know, it's selfish and annoying that I even see things that way - I am not entitled to be so flippin' particular at a community gym. Who died and made me queen anyway? I totally get it. Still doesn't change my gym OCD feelings.

Just yesterday there was an older lady on one of the bikes. I sat next to her because there was only one other bike and Shane had to sit away - on the recumbant bike. In my head I am thinking, "ok, it's fine she will be off in no time." Not so, 22 minutes later. Lame point #1 for her. The second lame thing she did was try and speed up to catch me every 5 minutes - I can tell when you are watching my legs to make sure yours are at the same pace. This makes me uncomfortable. And lastly, she kept leaning to see what I was reading. What I really wanted to say was: "Listen lady, I know a spock when I see one. I am reading Evidence For Paralegals and it is as boring as it sounds. Back the freak off my grill." Someday I could get my own bike, and ride at home, and feel totally comfortable. Someday. But for now the gym will do and luckily, it's free for residents:)

Anywho, back to the update.....Shane has been picking up so much of my slack now that I am gone a lot. He vacuumes, mops, does dishes, keeps our little terrorist puppy in check, and makes me blueberry pancakes when I come home from school at 9:30 p.m. He is nothing short of amazing, and that is all there is to it. I will never be able to make it all up to him.

Basically, my life is amazing.  Things could not be better.  I am seriously happy.  And very lucky.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

8,000,000 Credit Hours Later.

My very last ever, ever, forever semester of school starts next Wednesday.  PHEWWWWWWW!  I am this ( imagine index finger_____space____ thumb) close!  It's been a long haul.  Seriously, you have no idea!

The situation is this.  I am 23.  If you do the math, I should have a bachelors degree and now working on my masters degree.  I guess you could say I was one of those people who took the long way around. 

I graduated high school ready for a dang break.  I had worked my entire high school career on top of my curriculum - and full time my senior year.  

I wish I could have inserted that break here instead of going on with this story. 

When I got to Dixie, I thought that I could pull it out.  Hell, high school was a breeze.  I had been told by teachers, parents and friends my entire life that I was high functioning.  How hard could it be? 

Very hard. 

I had started working float pool (call at 4:30 a.m. and they tell you where you will work that day - not breezy) part time at the hospital on top of my full time school schedule.  It was instantaneous overload.  I enrolled in three semesters at Dixie.  I may have received two A's my entire Dixie State career.  Lame.  I enrolled in math twice, and failed, as well as biology three times. Did you catch that?  I failed Biology THREE times!  Super lame. That is one of the things I am most embarrassed of.

After my third crash and burn semester, I wasn't allowed to register for classes unless I met and discussed the WHAT IN THE SAM HELL was happening in my life to cause such poor academic performance with a college counselor.  I was incredibly nervous.  The counselor was nice enough, but by the time he had asked what was going on - I was in a complete meltdown.  I bawled - no, scratch that - I sobbed almost the entire meeting.  I had no explanation.  The only feeling I felt was stupidity.  Not in the foolish sense, but in the actually unintelligent sense.  I do not recall what happened in that meeting other than the realization that I could not be successful because I was mentally less intelligent than my peers.  I still cannot imagine a worse blow to your self esteem than believing you are actually stupid.  It still feels ugly now.

I did not attend school the next semester.  I stayed in St. George and continued to work two jobs, mostly because I was bored, until I built up the courage to go home. My parents were incredibly supportive, and I know they wanted me to come back.  I got two more jobs here and eventually I began to figure my life out. 

When I went back to school, I still worked full time, but I studied really hard.  I received a 3.9 GPA my first semester back.  To this day, since my return to college life, I have never had anything lower than a B+, and even that is a rarity.  I received A's in math and biology, without repeats - so all of my "friends" in St. George who laughed at my failed attempts in math and biology can suck on that, because you know what......


I am actually smart.

And it feels really good.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Color Me Exhausted

I sucked at being a wife yesterday.  It's true.  Although I am sure I have had worse moments in the past 8.5 months, yesterday was not a winner. 

The problem started when I arived to work 13 minutes late and I realized that the parking lot was unusually packed.  Both bosses were there.  I hate when they beat me - it means I am late (that thing I am trying so darned hard to overcome). When I walked in I saw commotion and was told WE WON.  The biggest case we have.  We won in the (Utah)Supreme Court which is a huge big deal - and thus the reason the whole world beat me to work.  The whole world saw me come in late.  Awesome. 

Anywho - it was busy - like really busy.  We had a news conference and I felt a lot of anxiety about it.  I was on the news once - it turned out to be a terribly embarrasing experience, and not I think I have developed Post Tramatic News Interview Syndrome and they make me very nervous.  Besides my PTNIS, the phone rang off the hook.  My head hurt a tad. 

Then we realized we ran out of dog treats before puppy class and we also need dog food.  Note to self: Don't take the dog to Petco - especially when your dog is a boxer named Bruce who appreciates new smells more than a hound on a hunt.  I looked totally cool trying to steer my cart, control Bruce, and load the huge bad of dog food. 

And then Bruce peed (in his defense, he barely peed, and he is getting a lot better) on a fellow dog owner in puppy class.  She kinda freaked out.  I can't say I blame her - that's gross, but she totally WIGGED, and then I didn't feel bad.  C'mon it's not like your dog doesn't pee, and this is puppy class, AKA Pee-N-Play. I was helping cleaning up after Mr. and Miss Couldjawizzsummore when she started freaking out.  Group effort ya know?  Puppies and peeing are besties.  But, if it makes you feel better, sorry. 

At the risk of redundancy, I was really tired when I got home.  All I wanted was my husband, pancakes, and my bed.  I was a little testy when he told me he needed to go get gas before he came home.  "No, No, No.   Please come home.  Just come home and eat pancakes and crawl into bed with me, and I know it's my week to scoop the poo, but um, yea, hells to the no."  Is pretty much what I said. 

He finally came home and looked at me with that "Yo Woman, why you be mean to me?" look.  And then I scooped poop.  Because I felt tired and rude and wanted to knock to rude off the end of my feelings list. 

I am super glad he was forgiving when the yard was clean because all I really needed, and will ever need for that matter, was to borrow his shoulder to fall asleep on.  Thanks for letting borrow some shoulder space ma'love.