Four Months

(sorry it's blurry, he wouldn't hold still but I had to get a shot of the "wreckage." He'd somehow dismantled his little playyard thing while I was in the bathroom and turned himself in a circle)

Yesterday Sam turned 4 months old! A lot has happened in the past month. For one, Sam has grown a lot. We don't go to the doctor until next week but from our measurements he's grown 5 or 6 inches since he was born and has more than doubled his birth weight.

In mid-May he had his first little giggle! He did it for my mom while Cameron and I were at the store, but thankfully she managed to get a video of it. It took a little while to get him to do it again, but now he laughs almost every day! He is the happiest little baby.

He started sleeping a lot better at night, and then he started teething and that stopped. We had a few hard days where he was crying a lot and wasn't eating enough, but thankfully with a lot of prayers and the miracle of baby tylenol and Orajel we got him eating again. He seems to be doing much better, though he is sometimes fussy and likes to bite things (like my finger) really hard.

Last week Sam rolled over for the first time! Every day since then he has rolled over at least once. It's getting even harder to give him tummy time since he can get off of his tummy more easily now, but every once in a while he'll roll himself onto his tummy at night and start crying because he can't roll back.

He's starting to interact with his toys more now, which is adorable. He has two favorites: his Teddy Bear and a giraffe. I've come up with unique voices for them and when he hears his bear (which is an overly enthusiastic, yet Eustace Scrub sounding kind of voice) he get's SO excited. He loves to hold onto that bear and give him kisses (slobber on its face) and smile and laugh at it. His giraffe doesn't talk quite so often but it comes almost everywhere with us. Apparently it's ears are very tasty (or Sam likes the way they crinkle) because they get chewed on a lot.

Sam still loves having his diaper changed. In fact, the only thing that will make him smile bigger or laugh more than a new diaper is "jumping." If we hold him in a standing position on our laps he'll start to bounce his legs and then we'll toss him up in the air as if he jumped all that way. He loves it. And let me tell you, it's a workout. My shoulders and biceps are getting a lot stronger from playing that game all the time.

His next big step will be learning to sit. He already pulls himself up if he's holding onto our fingers, and if we help him up he can balance for a few seconds, but it will be exciting when he can do it all on his own!

An Open Letter to my Mother

Less than three months ago I became a mother: a lifelong dream of mine. Even as a little girl I wanted to be like you, Mom. I didn't understand all you did for me, how blessed (and a little bit spoiled) I was. All I knew was that I loved you and you loved me. Your world seemed to revolve around me and that's just the way life worked. I never even thought to worry that there might be some time that you wouldn't be able to take care of me.

You showed me compassion when you had me choose some of my toys and clothes to take to children with less than me, even when we were struggling financially. You never let me know how hard it was for you and Dad to make ends meet for those few hard years. You never allowed me to carry that burden, or worry about what was coming. I had complete faith in you to make everything turn out all right.

I remember when I was four and a balloon animal that was given to me popped. I was sad until Daddy told me, "give it to Mommy, she can fix anything." I quickly learned that a popped balloon animal could not be fixed, but far from diminishing my trust in you, I learned from Dad that I could trust you with anything.

When I wanted a fabulous Halloween costume you never failed to deliver something beautiful and extraordinary. What's more, you never complained about my high expectations or the long hours spent at the sewing machine after we had all gone to bed, even when you had a young baby to take care of in the middle of the night. I thought grownups just didn't need as much sleep, and that you always stayed up late, that you liked sewing for me more than resting. Now that I have my own baby, I know what a sacrifice it must have been for you.

You listened to everything I went through, starting with the little things (ladybugs that refused to be caught, my caterpillar that wouldn't turn into a butterfly) to the huge amounts of angst I suffered in high school as I fussed over boys and bullies. You never diminished my suffering or told me to get over it. You always held me as I cried, even if moments before I had been yelling at you, or when I had totally brought my pain on myself.

You always told me that I was beautiful, that I didn't need makeup to be pretty, but you also taught me how to do my makeup and hair so that I didn't look like a clown when I tried to do it myself. Even more importantly, you taught me how to take care of my body. You always made sure that I had a "sport" to participate in and vegetables with dinner. You taught me to brush my teeth and wash my face.

You taught me patience. How did you keep your cool with five crazy kids and an oldest daughter that always needed your full attention? You taught me to love unconditionally. You showed me how to serve others, how to be kind, and how to balance my life. You helped me by not hiding your mistakes, but using them to teach me so that I wouldn't have to make the same ones to learn the lessons that would help me be a better person.

You always had faith in me. You never told me there was something I couldn't accomplish. You helped a tone-deaf, monotone little girl work her way up into a collegiate audition choir. You helped a girl who was too clumsy to skip for years to win dance competitions.

You supported me and helped me to look for my husband with spiritual eyes. When I told you in July that I wanted to be married at Thanksgiving you jumped right in with me to make the wedding happen. You were there with me on that special day, helping to make everything perfect, and you graciously passed the baton of best friend and helper to my husband.

You've laughed with me, cried with me, and never gave up on me.

And on the day you were called at four in the morning and told your grandson was coming early, you jumped on a plane and made it in time to share the most special moment of my life so far. You stayed for two weeks and mothered me again as I tried to learn to be a mother myself while recovering from the most physically traumatic thing I've been through so far.

You are an angel from Heaven. Your love, patience, and selflessness are truly divine. I thank our loving Father that he gave me to such an amazing mother to teach me how to live, and I hope that I can be as wonderful of a mommy as you are. I love you, I am so grateful for you, and twenty-almost-two years later I still want to be like you. Thank you, Mom, for everything.

Motherhood is Love

I would like to apologize in advance for the many run-on sentences in this post. I'm just letting my thoughts out and not worrying about grammar today. Thanks for your patience :)

I used to think that marriage is all about sacrifice and putting other's needs before your own--and it is--but then I became a mom.

And I realized that being a mom is really all about sacrifice and putting others first.

and then my mom, who had been staying with us and helping with baby and cooking and cleaning, went home and I realized it even more.

and then this weekend I got sick. Now I know that motherhood is really all about putting others first and making the hard choices and choosing to be strong even when you feel weak and praying your heart out because you don't want your baby to get sick because of the selfish reason of not wanting to have to stay up with him all night to make sure he can breathe but even more because you love that baby with all your heart and never want him to have to go through something as hard as a runny nose and sore throat.

wow.

I never knew that I could love so deeply and so completely. Nothing melts my heart so much as seeing my amazing husband holding our little boy, or having Sam pause his nursing just to give me a great big smile, or snuggling my baby and having his daddy wrap his arms around both of us. I never knew how sustaining love and prayers could be until I spent two and a half months waking up multiple times a night to feed this tiny little person and spent all day feeding him even more and changing diapers and still somehow have energy to go on walks and play peek-a-boo and sing until I'm horse.

Being a mom is a lot of work: exhausting, humbling, beautiful work. I have never been happier, nor more easily recognized the hand of the Lord in my life. My heart is so full of gratitude to my Father in Heaven for the many miracles he has wrought in my behalf. I am so glad that Cameron and I listened as He has guided us in the timing for beginning our family, both in our marriage and in having Sam.

As always, thank you so much everyone for your loving support as we haphazardly navigate our way through this crazy, wonderful life!

Zebra is The New Pink!

Admittedly, body image is something I struggle with a little bit. I didn't think it was when I was skinny and fit and had great skin, I was fine with being in a size 6 and I didn't want to lose weight and I wasn't obsessed with the number on the scale. But once I started gaining weight I started caring more. I gained a good 35 pounds during pregnancy and sadly it doesn't automatically fall off as soon as the baby pops out.

So, my life has a new normal. I don't have as much of a waist as I used to, I have bags under my eyes from not sleeping enough, I'm closer to 150 lbs than 115, I sweat more, I smell like spit-up, and I have so many stretch marks on my tummy that I look like a zebra. But you know what? Zebra is this year's pink! I am beautiful, even with my scars. I never showed my tummy off anyways, so what does it matter? My husband still loves me, I am taking care of my body (minus the not sleeping part) and I can be confident in my own, albeit stretched and saggy, skin. I may not look like a supermodel, but I used my body, with divine help, to build another body and create life, and now I use my body to sustain that life.

So I say, bring on the stretch marks! Bring on the few more months of maternity clothes, the tired eyes, the hours of nursing, the spit-up and exploded diapers on my clothes, the sore biceps, the abs that will probably never be quite the same. They may not be glamorous, but I wouldn't trade them for anything because of what they represent. I am a mother. I have a baby boy who I love with all my heart, my husband loves me and tells me I'm beautiful, I know that the Lord loves me, and that's all I really need.

I choose to be proud of my body. I choose to love myself. I choose to be grateful for this miracle, no matter the sacrifice. I'm so grateful that happiness is a choice not a circumstance.

Labor and Delivery: First Time's the Charm!

Our beautiful little Samuel Raymond came two weeks early! Everything went so smoothly and I am so grateful for that. Honestly, I was expecting parts of it to be a lot harder, or at least longer. I'm so thankful that my dear Cameron was with me the whole time and that he was so strong for me. He is my greatest blessing.

On Valentine's Day, I was feeling really needy for some reason, so Cameron took me on our date early. We went to see Frozen (finally!), had breakfast for dinner, and spent the evening together playing games and watching another movie. Around midnight I started having contractions. They were about 10 minutes apart but stronger than they had been before so we decided to start timing them. Within an hour they were down to about 5 minutes apart and getting stronger and stronger. I asked Cameron to give me a blessing. I was kind of hoping there would be a definitive “yes, you should go to the hospital,” or “no, you should stay home.” There wasn’t, but he did say that I would have the strength to get through the day and that I would have a calm mind. Cameron felt strongly that Heavenly Father would be with us that day. In light of that and since my contractions were still getting more uncomfortable and painful we decided it was time to finish packing our bag and go to the hospital.

We got there at about 4 am and the nurse checked my cervix and said it was “closed and thick.” We thought that was strange since at our last appointment I’d been at 70% and 2 cm, so Cameron mentioned this to the nurse when she came back in to check on us and she checked again and decided we were at a little over 3 cm, and with my contractions going strong we got to stay! At about 6 am they checked again and I was at 5 cm. The nurses changed shifts and we got a fabulous nurse named Vanessa. She was exactly what I needed. She was so positive and kept telling me how well I was doing and that my body was made to have babies and that everything was going great.

I was really bummed when they told me that I wasn't allowed to eat or drink until the baby came. I expected not to eat but I was really hoping for water to be ok since I was having quite a bit of heart burn. Admittedly I still snuck some small sips since the ice chips weren't as effective as liquid water at helping with that. At Timpanogos hospital they have flavored ice chips! I was really grateful for that because I was worried about having the energy to push since I hadn't had any food since dinner the night before. I don't know if it was true or not, but I told myself there were calories in the flavoring. My favorite flavor that I tried was pomegranate.

At about 9am I fell asleep trying to relax (I guess it worked) and Cameron went to the restroom. Then the nurse came back in with the on-call doctor (my doctor was out of town.) I was a bit disoriented and having a contraction and he decided it was time to break my water. I was kind of freaking out because I didn’t know where Cameron was and I was in a bit of pain. I asked the doctor to wait because I wanted Cameron there but he waited until the monitor said my contraction was done and then went right ahead and did it. It was a bit uncomfortable, like all the rest of the pelvic exams, but the actual water breaking didn't hurt at all. I had to try really hard to hold it together. I was pretty upset with him for not waiting for Cameron and my contractions were hurting more and more and I hadn’t slept since the night before. 

By about 10am I was starting (I think) to move into transition. My contractions were really intense and long and only about 2 or 3 minutes apart. I was really struggling to breathe and relax and I couldn’t hold still. I was kind of writhing around and holding on really tight to the handrails on the bed. Cameron was trying to help me relax but I shushed him every time he said anything. I just wanted to keep my eyes shut and hold his hand. I had an IV in my left hand so it hurt to hold his hand after that so I just held one of his fingers for a while.

Finally when the nurse came in I told her I wanted my epidural. Thankfully the anesthesiologist was already on the floor finishing up a C-section so he came in about 10 minutes after I asked. I started feeling really nauseous from the pain of the contractions but managed to keep it under control until the epidural was in my back. I sat up on the edge of the bed and leaned on Cameron while he held my hands. The anesthesiologist gave me a shot of novacane or something similar and then put the epidural in. Almost immediately my feet started to feel warm and a little bit tingly. They got everything taped to my back (he used a LOT of tape) and then I laid back down. I could still feel my contractions very strongly and I was struggling so Cameron was alternating wiping my face with a cold wash cloth and holding my little barf bag (which I unfortunately did end up needing.) Within five minutes I was feeling less of the contractions and my nausea started going away. Within fifteen minutes I couldn’t feel much of anything and I had to have Cameron read the monitor so I would know when I was having a contraction. I felt fantastic! I asked Cameron if we could play a game, and if I had been able to feel my legs I probably would have gotten up and started dancing. It was amazing how that sudden relief gave me such a huge burst of energy! 

Cameron suggested I rest since I probably would need the energy once I started pushing. I figured he was right and, after telling him to go get himself something to eat, I fell asleep pretty quickly. Not too long after the nurse came back in and said the doctor wanted her to put in an internal monitor to measure the strength of contractions so we could know if labor was moving fast enough. Apparently it wasn’t, because the doctor decided I needed Pitocin to speed up my contractions (it’s normal for them to slow down after getting an epidural.) Before I got the Pitocin, the doctor got called away to an emergency at another hospital, so I had to wait until he got back for the pit because he didn’t want me to deliver when he wasn’t there.

Finally he got back and I got my meds and contractions started picking up nicely. Thankfully I didn’t feel a thing, so Cameron and I were able to take a nap for a while. After an hour or two the doctor came to check how I was doing dilation wise, and I was ready to push! I was so glad he woke me up more gently that time, I might have had a heart attack if he’d just barged in and told me to start pushing.

The nurse came back and helped for the first little bit. We got ready and Sam was crowning within one push! That was crazy to hear. I was expecting to be pushing for a long time before that happened. I only pushed through four contractions before the nurse called for the doctor. We had to wait about fifteen minutes for him, and my mom arrived from Michigan just a few minutes before he came to deliver the baby! Talk about great timing. While we were waiting for both of them the nurse asked me to push one more time just to make sure Sam wasn’t going back up the birth canal. She was having Cameron count to 10 for me for each push and before he finished saying “three,” she yelled, “Stop!” Sam had not gone back any, and she was worried she’d have to deliver the baby right there if I kept pushing.

The doctor finally came in and they raised the bed, took the end away, and got my legs up in the stirrups (which was pretty comical since I couldn’t feel them and when I tried to move them they were all wobbly and I was less coordinated than the Scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz.) Everyone got ready and on my next contraction I pushed three times for about 10 seconds each, which is what I had been doing previously. When I finished the third push I leaned back and relaxed and everyone in the room yelled, “keep pushing!” I thought something was wrong, like the baby’s cord was around his neck or something, so I pushed really hard and I had the strangest sensation of suddenly having nothing in my stomach. Miraculously, my eyes were open for that last push and I saw my stomach fall a good six inches at least and then I looked where my tummy had been and the doctor was holding a tiny, white person! Sam was born!

A few seconds later they brought him up to my chest and laid him on my skin while they rubbed the vernix off of him and tried to keep him crying. He was the sweetest little thing I had ever seen. I don’t remember if I said anything to him or not. I was so overwhelmed at finally being able to hold and see him. I could feel the spirit so strongly. This was my sweet little angel, sent straight from Heavenly Father. I was crying and when I looked around for Cameron he was crying, too. We both touched our little boy and helped wipe him off. I was so incredibly happy and just wanted to keep holding him forever. With him in my arms and Cameron holding both of us, I knew that's what Heaven must be like. There is no greater joy than being with my boys.

A few minutes later they took Sam to the warming table to check his vitals and clean him off and Cam went with him. Cameron just talked to him quietly and Sam grabbed onto his finger and watched his daddy calmly while the nurse checked him over. They brought him back to me and he was all pink and perfect. He was hardly wrinkly or cone-headed and my reaction was, “he doesn’t even look like he was squeezed through a pelvis at all!” At some point in my bliss I realized that Cameron hadn’t had a chance to hold him and handed him to his daddy.

We made a first attempt at nursing and had a little skin-to-skin time, which apparently is very important. Eventually they wheeled me down to recovery and Cameron got to push Sam in his basinet. They brought a cot into my room for Cameron to sleep on. I was so grateful that he stayed with me because with my legs still waking up and the rest of everything below my ribs being rather sore it took me a really long time to get out of bed, so I needed his help to change diapers and hand Sam to me when he needed to eat. Cameron has always been my hero, but never so much as he was during labor and those first two nights in the hospital.

Now, we get to have our sweet little angel at home with us! He brings so much joy and wonder to our lives.

More Artwork for Baby's Room

Here's another piece I did for Baby's room recently.

I really like the quote. I think it's cute. I think most things Winnie the Pooh said are cute, though. If you haven't read the book, you definitely should. Especially if you've only seen the more recent Pooh movies (from 1990 forward.)

I was really torn between this quote and, "I wasn't going to eat it! I was just going to taste it," but I decided I probably wanted to have that one on a plaque in the kitchen at some point. Teaching my kids great eating habits from the womb, right? Haha.

What are your favorite Winnie the Pooh quotes? I'm trying to think of a cute one to go with a picture of Pooh hanging from a balloon. Although, that one may be cute enough to stand on it's own.

My Wonderful Family

I love my family. They are so amazing. We may be a quirky, nerdy, silly, eclectic group, but we know how to laugh and we know how to love. I got to skype with my family today, and it was fantastic. I miss them so much, and really wish I lived closer to home. Or that they lived closer to here.

I love that we all love music and make it together. I love that my little brother is enough of a man to make up for the fact that he's the only boy out of five kids, and that he's willing to put up with the rest of our girly ways.

I love that we're such comedians. I think we inherited it from my dad... actually I'm positive. He's hilarious, and I love it. I don't think we had more than one or two conversations over Christmas break that didn't end with me crying from laughter. I love laughing, and I love being happy, and I'm so grateful for my family's ability to help me stay that way.

I love that we have so many common interests, and also so many different ones. For example, we've all played soccer, all of the girls have taken dance classes, and we all sing or play an instrument. Cameron is a PRO beatboxer. He and my sister Sarah frequently do spontaneous dubstep arrangements, and it's awesome. It drives Mary crazy, who much prefers her classical piano and flute (she's a prodigy--absolutely amazing at everything she tries), and Lizzie just goes crazy dancing and singing to any music being made or played on the computer.

My parents are wonderful. They are such hard workers, and so kind and generous to others. My dad is such an amazing example of patience and love. I've rarely seen a man look at a woman with so much love as I see on my dad's face when he comes home. I want to marry someone who looks at me that way.

Besides always being there for me to talk to, and offer advice, I love how good of a cook my mom is, and how she's taught me her magical ways in the art of perfect baking. Not only does everything that comes out of her kitchen taste good, but it looks amazing as well! She's a wizard. No lie.

I'm so grateful for the examples ALL of the members of my family set for me, and that even though I'm 2,000 miles away, I can stay in contact with them and have the promise of being with them forever.

money, money, money, money

I am so, so very grateful for my parents and my family and that they take care of me. I'm kind of a black hole for money at the moment, what with going to school, living out of state, and not having a job, and my wonderful parents are currently paying for pretty much everything. In my defense, I did give them almost all of the money I made over the summer, but that was just about enough to cover the independent study courses I enrolled in.

I'm so grateful for the sacrifices my family makes for me, especially my parents. No matter how little we had growing up, they always made sure that we had enough, and never let us know how little there really was. They always made me feel that a roof over my head and food on the table would be a constant thing and, despite wearing hand-me-downs and rarely going out to eat, I never felt as if I was at a disadvantage.

I'm grateful that even in our time of greatest need my father still showed compassion to those who had less than us, and gave all he could to anyone he met in real need. He is such a good and kind man, and has the biggest heart.

Owl City

On my birthday my mom took Sarah, Cameron, and me to Owl City's concert in Detroit and it was AWESOME!!!!! I love the fact that Adam Young writes ALL of his songs, and they're all so sweet and innocent. They're mostly electronic and upbeat, but when he performed live, he made them more like alternative rock, with more electric guitar than keyboard. It was pretty hype :) He also has quite a few songs Christiany songs that are super fun to listen to, and also really spiritual.

Adam's blog is also awesome. Its really funny most of the time, and the rest of the time its just really pleasant to read. He talks a lot about how much he loves nature and the Lord, so I think we'd get along pretty well. In a nutshell, I love Adam Young! As an artist. I obviously don't actually know him, but I think we could be good friends if I did.

Thank you for the wonderful birthday present Mommy :)

And happy 4th of July! :)

D&C 98:8 I, the Lord God, make you free, therefore ye are free indeed; and the law also maketh you free.

My Mother

Today I am especially grateful for my mom. I can be a pain in the butt sometimes, especially when she wants me to wake up relatively early even though we stayed up until 1:30 the night before and I have a gift for sleeping until my body says its not tired anymore. Or the fact I have a tendency to procrastinate and get distracted by anything sparkly or fluffy and thereby give my mom a heart attack because I cut my deadlines too close. No matter how many times I do all of this dumb stuff, she is always there for me with a hug and a smile, and whatever comfort I happen to need at the time.

My mom is incredibly smart and can read me like an open book, even more so than others can. She can always tell when I need to "refocus" on spiritual things because I am getting to caught up in the little things that don't make any difference in the long run. Last week I was stewing over something that I really couldn't control, which was in turn affecting my productivity. Because my mom is a super hero and always knows what to do, she took me over to the piano and handed me a hymn book and opened it to page 124: Be Still My Soul. It is one of my favorite hymns and says basically that we don't need to worry about what happens to us, or what the future holds, because the LORD will take care of us. It really helped me to put this tiny trial in perspective and remember to turn to the one person who knows what I am going through and has the power and the knowledge to guide me through it.

I love my mom so much and I am so grateful to her for all she does for me.