Get over it

2014 has been the year of surprises.

And if I was being honest - they were pretty crappy surprises. Mostly due to my reaction to them.

I loved staying home and when Harris' was miserable at his job and being treated poorly I didn't hesitate taking up the opportunity to provide for our family.

But I was so bummed out that what I thought I'd received as inspiration while he and I were still dating (a very specific financial goal I thought I knew would come to fruition) was happening in reverse. Not only that but the way I was helping my family was doing the opposite of what a mother was "supposed" to do. I wasn't even mad at Harris, I was just confused by the direction God was taking with our lives.

I'm still not sure why things happened that way and why I thought I'd received "undeniable" inspiration that isn't happening.

The next big thing was a surprise I found out a week before my 28th birthday.

I was pregnant.

WHAT?!

No.

I didn't want to be pregnant.

My filter should stop me from saying that but this is my blog and I say what I want!

Every person who had asked me (multiple in the month before I found out since my sister just had a baby and everyone assumed it must be making me baby hungry). I told them I didn't want a baby for at least another year because I still remember how sick I got with Mia and I wasn't mentally/emotionally/physically prepared to go through that again. That and I needed some maternity leave benefits to kick in at work that wouldn't be in effect until I was back for 2 years.

They seemed like legit reasons when I reasoned with myself. 

Mental health

Physical health

Taking care of my family as the sole breadwinner

It took us 11 months to get pregnant with Mia so preparing for a baby wasn't necessary.

We used birth control, I have some health issues that usually make getting pregnant harder for me (endometriosis) so while everyone else getting pregnant around me I was content with my two beautiful girls. I loved being their mother, I loved seeing them with their daddy and they were everything we needed.

I was sick for a few weeks before I even found out I was pregnant. My period has been coming like clock work for about 2 years (every 4 weeks + 1 day) and every 6 months or so it would come like a week and a half late. I figured this was one of those moments. I took a pregnancy test 4 days after I was supposed to get my period and the line was too faint to tell if it was negative or positive and I figured that meant it was negative. Both times I've been pregnant before I took a pregnancy test less than a week after I missed my period and it showed positive immediately.

When I'd reached a week and still didn't have my period I bought another pregnancy test and figured I wouldn't need it. I woke up early that Sunday morning before anyone else and needed to pee so I figured I'd get the test out of the way and get a for sure negative then just wait for my period. I was impatient so I just stared at my pregnancy test and it showed positive immediately.

WHAT?

No.

I threw the test away, walked out of the bathroom and went back to bed. A couple of hours later I woke up again, remembered what I'd done and casually told Harris. Who was SO EXCITED!

Since then I've lost at least 18 lbs (I was already 25 lbs heavier than where I usually start my pregnancies so I could stand to lose weight) and experienced extreme sickness (aka Hyperemesis Gravidarum). I've had IV treatments 3 times in the 5 weeks I've known I was pregnant and because I wait so long before going in for them the Dr is going to set me up to do them in-home. I'm meeting with her for the third time this pregnancy (and I'm only 10 1/2 weeks!) so she can measure our baby to verify everything is okay in there. I have a low hematocrit (red blood cell count) which is no surprise as I've had anemia since I was 15 and it gets low every pregnancy. I throw up most nights at least once if I move and sleep on the couch 90% of the time because being in our bed makes me sick. I've taken 3 types of prescribed medication (zofran, phenergen, diclegis), almost 4 different types of ways (through IV's, in pill form, in cream form and was offered to have one inserted in my butt) to see if they stop me from throwing up. None have worked.

I've tried natural remedies - oils, teas, vitamin B6, ginger everything, frequent snacking, sea bands, pretty much anything you can think of I've tried and it doesn't work.

I've thrown up in my car at least 5 times while I'm driving and I've got it down to a science where I can throw up in my can without swerving, slowing or taking my eyes off the road.

I've prayed, cried, begged, received blessings, counsel and yet here I stay confined to my couch where I spend all hours I'm home.

My poor girls. I hate that they have to see me like this. 

My thoughtful husband who does everything he can to take care of me.

My crushed spirit that, despite how hard I want to give up, still keeps going.

I've read and listened to more messages from apostles and prophets than I can count and none offer the hope that it will be over because I've asked for it to be - they all have the same message of there being joy in the journey and strength from enduring.

Man that message sucks when you just want reprieve from the suffering.

But I don't see myself getting relief right now so I need all the prayers I can to prop me up and set me back on the steep climb uphill. 

And really, I just need to get over myself and harden up you know?

Broken

It’s official. I’m broken.

Not emotionally (although that could be true some days) but physically.

Harris and I would like to have a baby. We’re not “trying” (mostly cause I hate that word and its implications) but we’re not really preventing. Since I was 16 I’ve had endometriosis and it’s been more of a painful nuisance than anything else. We got pregnant 6 months after we were married so the fertility issues Dr’s had told me about went in one ear and out the other. Now for the last 9 months or so it seems that they weren’t as off base as I thought. With Kiona nearing her 2^nd birthday we decided she could do with a sibling and we would love another baby, however, it’s taking a little longer than we hoped. But honestly, I’m not that upset about it. I’m currently of the mentality that if it’s meant to happen it will and I guess right now it’s not.

Something my sister and I have a random habit of doing is buying and taking pregnancy tests. She does it to make sure she’s not pregnant. I do it to make sure this doesn’t happen to me. I take a pregnancy test at least every other month. Of the last 5 pregnancy tests (all different brands) not one has shown up positive. None have shown up negative either. The display screen never showed anything on every single test I took. I bought multiple brands at different stores but that didn’t change anything. Today I bought a test that said the words “Pregnant” and “Not Pregnant” depending on the results and you know what it said when I peed on it?

“See Leaflet”.

Sick Baby Getting Better and Better

Barely past midnight and I'm chillin with my baby girl while Miranda's asleep. Kiona's had it rough the past couple of nights. She has something called the Hands, Foot, and Mouth disease, not to be mistaken with Hoof-and-Mouth. It's a common disease amongst infants and children and its symptoms are a fever, sore throat, poor appetite, sores on her hands and feet, and in her mouth. She can't find a comfortable way to sleep so she cries often in the middle of the night. She can't find a comfortable way to just be, so she cries at all times of the day, too. We suspect that her unhealthy habit of sucking her curious, trash-can-loving, nose-picking, crotch-grabbing (from watching Michael Jackson's "This is It" a million times) fingers is how she contracted her illness.

I took Tuesday off from work and school and Miranda took Wednesday off. I try to keep Kiona calm by having Bruno Mars jam sessions with her (she plays the ukulele, while I play the guitar and our favorite song to sing is Bruno Mars "Count on Me"),

and giving her a manicure and pedicure. I have no idea what a mani/pedi entail so I just cut her finger and toe nails. I'll be taking care of Kiona the first half of Thursday until my class starts at 2:00pm, and Miranda will be going in to work at 4:00am so she can be back by the time I have to leave. She recently got a promotion so her hours are a little more flexible, thankfully. Honestly, Kiona is a pain, but there are those moments in between her crying when she smiles and dances that make me forget why I got so frustrated with her in the first place. Here are a couple of pictures of her trying to go to bed after midnight (she's not trying that hard):

Miranda is my sugar mommy and is the bread-winner for our family while I'm at school. She hates her job. She tells me everyday how much she hates it that I hate it, even. She's a trooper and a hard worker and I love her for it. Fortunately, I'll graduate at the end of this year and should be able to find a good job that will help me take back my rightful role as the provider and I'll spend the rest of my life spoiling her.

When we were dating, I really talked myself up. I probably told her that I was the man on campus in high school, lied about how much I bench pressed, and inflated my ACT score. In talking myself up, I promised her the world, but instead of telling fibs like I did about my past life, I have every intention of keeping my promise. She saw right through me when I was trying to spit game and saw potential in me that I never could. Save my parents and my mission president, no one has made me feel so good about myself like Miranda does. A couple years ago while taking calculus, a prerequisite to get into the Marriott School, I came home from class extremely overwhelmed. This had been my fourth attempt at taking the class and I was real tempted to withdraw from the class like I had each time before, but now that I was married, everything had became more time sensitive. I remember going into my room, and my wife could tell by the look on my face that I was beaten and deflated. She found me in bed crying because I could not see myself getting the grade that I needed to get accepted into the Marriott School. She held me for a few minutes to let me sob, and after a while she said, "Babe, I believe in you. You can do it." Extremely simple, yet so profound. She didn't try to help me find an easy way out and look for an alternative major, nor did she encourage my threats of quitting school. Her words picked me up and proved prophetic as I got the grade I needed. I'm currently in the Marriott School, and the end is very near

Life since we've been married has gotten better each year. We both got better at cooking so naturally, I'm better at gaining weight. School is better and I'm loving my classes, except ethics, because it's just like another Sunday school class, but with homework. We're better at reading our scriptures. Work for Miranda is better with her new position, but she still hates work, but it's better than her previous position. We communicate with each other better. We argue better (I don't know what this means, but for all intents and purposes, it's just better). And, the "watching TV" keeps getting better, if you know what I mean (ladies, don't act like you guys never talk about "watching TV " during your GNO). My love for her, overall, just gets better and better with each year of marriage, and I hope the way I show it to her gets better and better.

Prayers for my little princess that she gets better and better and back to her non-crying self. Fingers crossed that our chances of getting another baby are better and better.

I love you babe! Happy St. Patricks Day!