Day 20: Attitude of Gratitude

The Unfortunate Caramel Case
by: Hillary Calaway

Daddy asks if you with the rest of the kids would like to make a special trip to the candy shop. "OH YES!" you squeal with glee, jumping up and down at the prospect. You've never been to the candy shop but you've heard so much about it and you desperately want to experience it for yourself.

You pile in the family car and Dad pulls out of the driveway smiling to himself as he stares in the rear view mirror at his kiddos busily discussing all of the possibilities this day holds.

Finally you arrive and try not to hyperventilate while your younger brother struggles out of his seat belt and opens the door to get out. You skip to the glass window outside the shop, pressing your face against it, "Ooohhing" and "Aaahhing" at what you see.

Row upon row of shelves are lined with shiny glass jars bursting with every candy ever made. Candy-bars and chocolates, caramels and cookies, licorice and lollipops. Every color, combination and concoction imaginable.

You hear a throaty chuckle and turn to see Dad holding the door open and smiling as if to say "Come along then."

Upon entering, Dad instructs you to choose wisely.

You're off like a shot--but what to pick, which to choose? There's so much, and it is all interesting.

Before you know it Dad's calling your name and you look around and realize that everyone else has made their selection and gone out to the car. You trot off in the direction of his voice.

You stretch on your tip-toes to carefully place your goodies before the cashier, who raises her eyebrows than shrugs as if to say, "It's your stomach."

Dad gives the box of caramels you've chosen a once-over, then turns to ask you, "Honey, are you sure this is what you want?"

"Oh yes Daddy" you plead. "I really want to try these."

"All right", he says and he pulls out his wallet to pay the bill.

You say thanks then run to join the rest of the gang in the car, all of which are pouring over their selections and comparing one with another.

Back at home you can't wait to show Mommy what you've gotten. She grins at your enthusiasm but says no when you ask to have just one of the caramels.

"It's bedtime" she says, "and besides, you can take it with you to Aunt Gertie's."

Shucks. That's right. Tomorrow Daddy and Mommy are dropping you off to stay with Aunt Gertie for a week, who by the way smells funny and has that wiener dog that yelps at you all the time.

Three days at Aunt Gertie's and you've had it. The rules are different at her house. No playing cowboys and indians, no using the sofa cushions to make forts, and NO candy until after supper.

And about those caramels you had to have. You realize that they have nuts--you hate nuts. The treat you thought was going to be so great has ended up being a complete wreck. You hate caramels and you hate Aunt Gertie's house. It's just not fair.

You call Daddy that night to tell him you miss him and that you don't like staying here. "I know sweetheart" he says, "but it's only a few more days. You'll be home and back in my arms before you know it."

You sniffle as you tell him about your caramels. "I hate it Daddy. It isn't what I wanted. I thought it would be different. Tell Jane to share her gummy worms or make Johnny trade his gobstoppers with me. Aunt Gertie says I have to eat all of those yucky caramels-I can't Daddy. It's just too hard. Oh why did you buy them for me?"

Daddy reminds you that you chose the caramels and asks you to hand the phone to your oldest brother.

You sulk off to the bedroom and plop yourself face down on the bed.

A few minutes later your oldest brother comes in and sits beside you. He gives you a pat on the back and asks what is wrong. You tell him about it all...

"Tell you what" he says. "You do what you can to make the best of the rest of your days here and I'll help you finish off all of those caramels okay."

"Really" you say as you lift your head, a tear rolling down your dirty cheek.

"Really."
________________________

I don't know if we had any input in the trials and afflictions we face here. If we did, I'd imagine we were a little wide-eyed and innocent about it all.

I am most grateful today for an older brother to help us finish eating the nutty caramels life hands us.

(Sorry if you like nutty caramels. . .adapt it to your disliking.)

Day 19: Attitude of Gratitude

Blaine came to visit last night and to go with me to my ultrasound this morning. Details to come...

Come to think of it, last night was our first date we've ever spent alone--hmm, wouldn't have pictured it in a hospital with me on bed rest. Oh well, it was memorable.

Aside from gazing into each others eyes like two love-sick teenagers, we came to a decision.

We're naming our baby--now.

This was prompted in part by the fact that I constantly refer to this baby as 'they' or 'them' and it confuses people, and we just felt like it is time.

I wouldn't say that we consider this our miracle child. Every child is a miracle.

But this baby is definitely a gift, and we've named him/her accordingly (ah hah--that's right, we are still waiting to find out if this is a girl/boy)

The name is

Shiloh
[Hebrew for "His Gift"]

We got some good/sobering news today about our little Shiloh. The good news is that Shiloh is growing like a champ and developmentally seems to be just fine. The less fantastic news is that we don't know how long this will continue to be the case.

Somehow when I filled out the order form for this pregnancy I accidentally checked the 'ripped placenta' box. Whoops. My mistake.

From all of the data, we think that there was a tear or slight detachment early on which compromised the amniotic sac causing it to rupture. This in turn resulted in my uterus shrinking, further exacerbating the placenta and causing increased bleeding.

Thankfully, the placenta is still working because Shiloh is growing, and as long as the bleeding doesn't get worse we're in good shape. The consequences of increased bleeding are not fun to think about (further placenta tearing or abruption-i.e. me hemorrhaging, Shiloh losing access to oxygen, blah,blah,blah, really boring stuff)

So we are in a race against time: my placenta's health against Shiloh's development.

And we are staying upbeat--because I'm an endurance kinda gal.

Let me say this much. I know more than ever today that Heavenly Father is very much aware of our situation and has ordered things for our good. The trail of tender mercies is long. We aren't going to look back, and we're not going to try and get ahead of ourselves.

Slow and steady wins the race. And our Savior has offered to carry us when it gets too hard.

Joshua 1: 5, 9
"I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee. Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee withersoever thou goest."

Day 18: Attitude of Gratitude

(Word of Warning--LONG post! Enter at own peril. I think I am supposed to share this though)

I feel like I just climbed out of the ring from a 9 round Knock Out with Mike Tyson. Whew!

No worries--I still have both of my ears.

The following is from a letter sent to some family members recounting an experience I had my first weekend on bed rest:

You know, I used to consider myself a pretty spiritual person—someone that tries to stay close to the Spirit, reads her scriptures and studies them intently, says her daily prayers, goes to church, pays tithing, on and on. Then I had this happen.

Do you remember the story of Peter walking on water? So the Savior has concluded teaching a multitude and tells his disciples to go ahead of him and set sail to reach the other side of the body of water they are by in a boat while he finishes up, which they do. That night, they see what appears to be a ghost walking upon the water, realizing as it draws nearer that it is the Savior himself approaching. Peter calls out to the Lord and leaves the boat in an act of faith to draw closer to the Lord. He’s walking on water (he’s who I thought I was—a good person with great faith and testimony trying to get back to the Savior) when a slight wind comes up. His confidence is shaken, his faith wavers and he begins to sink. He calls out to the Savior, “Save me” to which our wise Older Brother replies, “Oh ye of little faith.”

Peter’s faith falters at the slightest wind. How is this so? I now understand and will see Peter very differently—because there was a life on the line. Because in Peter’s eyes it was desperate peril, he was about to be overtaken by the storm and the waves raging around him. When he started to sink, I would bet you money he took his eyes off of the Savior and looked down—and the thought of what he might lose terrified him.

HE TOOK HIS EYES OFF OF THE SAVIOR!

I did the same thing this week. I had been up and down emotionally all weekend—high, low, high, low. One minute I was fine, the next I was in despair. Then one night I went to the bathroom, saw more leaking and bleeding (no more than usual), but it was enough to act as that wind for Peter. I looked down, saw what I could lose, and took my eyes off the Savior. I laid back down and plead through the night with God and this story of Peter I shared came to mind. As I read the account I heard the Lord saying to me, “Oh ye of little faith.” And I thought, I really am of little faith. In a moment of weakness I forgot the countless tender mercies He has shown me these past few weeks . . . my whole life really. My eyes are SO used to seeing in terms of this world.

Okay, so that was a month ago.

I really thought I had gotten my sea legs, was even going to blog about it and then last night happened. Pretty much same scenario. I start bleeding a lot and it gets to me.

Granted this go around I know that I have to keep my focus on the Savior-okay.

So for 5 of the longest, hardest hours of my life, I spiritually tread water barely keeping my nose above the deep that threatens to overtake me. This isn't just in my head--I am fighting something real and it is taking everything I've got to keep it at bay.

By 4 a.m. I am crying and I've hit my wall. I tell Heavenly Father I can't swim much longer-I am beaten up with a bloody nose (literally, ha ha--my nose is bleeding all over).

By 5 a.m. I am sleeping.

By 8 a.m. I am in my bathroom almost crying when I see the bleeding has stopped.

You know, Peter’s life was never really in danger—neither is mine or my baby’s. No one is going to be lost here. Yes, it is true that my baby might not survive and be with me during my sojourn here but this child has never for one moment been lost. I am in my life-boat making my way across this life, and the Savior is beckoning for me to come to him—do I let the wind of this storm overcome me and stop me from reaching Him? Do I let the fear screaming in my ears drowned out the faith I know I have? I can’t—there’s no choice. I have to keep going.

and so do you.

Day 17: Attitude of Gratitude

Every few hours, one of the wonderful nurses here will come check vitals. This includes my temperature, my blood pressure, and a doppler to check little one's heart rate.

Yesterday during one of these routine checks, my nurse was searching for our baby's heart rate and having a hard time finding it (no panicking people, I was feeling kicks--this baby just has an independent streak--probably from me).

Anyway, she finally started picking up some noise and said, "Oh, there it is. Wait no that's your heart. Ohh-no that's the baby's heart too."

For a few seconds I listened to my heart and my baby's beating at the same time. The slow and steady thump of mine weaved together with the strong hurried pace of my baby's. A beautiful harmony.

A scripture from Mosiah came to mind:

". . .their hearts knit together in unity and in love one towards another."

Each of us has a signature heart beat all our own. Families, I think tend to run on the same frequency, but there are slight variations amongst the members. These subtle differences can combine to form a beautiful symphony when we are unified in love one towards another; yet, when pride and frustration color the tones of our hearts it produces a harsh, discordant sound. The dissonance has us competing for first chair, rather than blending our unique harmonies to form a more congruent whole.

This amazing experience we are on has increased the love and unity our immediate and extended family feels, one for another. What an amazing change one tiny little heart has produced.

Truly, from small and simple things are great things brought to pass.

Thank you for opening your hearts to us. We're loving the sound.

Day 16: Attitude of Gratitude

It's 4 a.m. I can't sleep--so I have wrote (more like adapted) you all a song concerning the difficulties of my predicament right now.

See, my dietitian informs me that I need to gain weight (I won't tell you how little I've gained this pregnancy--you mothers would cringe and cover your eyes), and I realized that this might be the only chance I get to make you all jealous.

Ha, ha, ha--(evil laugh)

(To the tune of It's the Hard Knock Life from the musical Annie-and a one, and a two, and a. . .)

It's the hard-knock life for me!
It's the hard-knock life for me!

'Steada apples,
I get cake,
'Steada bananas
Chocolate milkshakes

It's the hard-knock life!

Got no fat to speak of, so,
Eat all I want to grow!

Bagels 'n' smeare
'Steada toast
Bacon 'n' sausage
Sunday pot roast

It's the hard-knock life!

Can you hear my stomach a growl'n?
Guess I'll take another bite!

Better eat that flaky pastry
It's so wrong it can't be right!

Dietitian's there when your plates all clean!
Only cares if you grow. . .or if you shrink!
One more bite and I swear I'll turn green!
After all this eatin' and she wants me to have an Ensure drink!

Ohhhh!!!!!!!!!!
Full belly life!
Always eatin' life!
Full of heartburn life!
More tomorrow life!

Exercise I never see
Jillian Michaels, what's that?
Who's she?

Piece a cheesecake? Just a smidge
Save the rest for later in the fridge!

It's the hard-knock life for me
It's the hard-knock life for me
Chocolate brownie? One more piece.
Calorie consumption must increase

IT'S A HARD-KNOCK LIFE!
____________________

Hate me yet? Ok, it honestly isn't this bad--thinking of food actually makes me want to throw up but we might as well appreciate the irony of the situation right?

(Also, my dietician is amazing--I love her, but today she got to play the bad guy. So Sorry!)

Day 15: Attitude of Gratitude

Parting is such sweet sorrow. . .

Sorry for my two followers checking the blog wondering if we went into crisis mode--all is well.

I got to see my family today. I'm pretty sure that is what heaven will be like (maybe with the ability to sit up and walk as well).

My two year old and I got to play pretend monsters for an hour while my husband and mother-in-law toured the NICU. Colton used his harmonica to scare off the 'monstees' whenever they came.

It was like I got to cross this day off without ever going through it. Week 25 here we come.
That is something worth being grateful about.

Day 14: Attitude of Gratitude

Once in a blue moon, back in the furthest corner of my mind I'll catch myself wondering if I am to blame for what's happening right now--then I slap myself, order a milkshake and go back to my cross-word puzzle or book.

We live in a 'point the finger' society where the blame game is more popular than Monday Night Football. At the root of every failed venture, policy, program and career a face and a name are assigned responsiblility and branded 'blame-worthy'.

It's my teacher's fault I got that grade.

I wasn't raised to know better.

If so and so hadn't done that, I wouldn't have done this and that.

I'm a bad person, I'm a bad parent, I'm a bad employee, bad, bad, bad.

Yes, even we can become our own worst accusers. Maybe it is our nature to want an explanation, or an intrinsic desire for justice--I don't really know. But I am realizing today how poisonous this mindset of ascribing blame can be and that it has us pouring salt in each others wounds (and in our own for that matter) rather than following the Savior's example to forgive. I have been guilty of this--just ask those closest to me. I hope to be less so in the future.

I am so grateful Heavenly Father opened my eyes today and helped me see this. I hope that through this trial I can follow the example of a pupil who took a Master Class on not seeking blame-Job.

Day 13: Attitude of Gratitude

I have zero profound thoughts to offer up today.

Today has been so. . .uneventful. I love it.

Baby's kicking, family is good, I feel great--

I love boring days

boring is good. so good.

Can I have one month more full of days like today? Please?

I hope you are having a boring, simple, 'nothin' out of the ordinary kind of day too.

Aren't they so nice?

Day 12: Attitude of Gratitude

The Upside to being Down on Bedrest
commentary on the benefits of being a couch potato

Apparently when you lay around 24-7 your body gets confused. You start losing muscle mass (I knew those two steroid shots in my hind quarters were a blessing!), you pretty much lose your appetite with little to no energy being expended, you are a sure-fire candidate for heartburn, inevitable plumbing department issues (we'll leave it at that. hello? anyone still reading?), and of course the lack of movement turns you into a zombie.

The last one is a huge blessing and I'll tell you why. . .

When you don't need as much sleep, and you wake up in the middle of the night there isn't a whole lot to do besides count the ceiling tiles (22 whole pieces, 33 partial tiles in my room FYI), and read your scriptures. I prefer the later.

Multiple nights I'll wake up and a long-forgotten story from the scriptures will pop into my head.

These stories have been tender mercies.

Monday was a long day full of reality checks. Meeting with the anesthesiologist to discuss emergency procedures during labor, learning that this little one still only has a 30% chance of intact survival, getting shots and IV's ready for emergency delivery, talking to the doctors about all the complications at this point in the game, really fun stuff.

By nighttime I was spent, but rest eluded me. By 2 a.m. I was up and reading from Mark's account about the Daughter of Jairus. Quick recap.

Jairus, a leader of the synagogue has a daughter at the point of death. In haste, he seeks out the Savior who has been teaching nearby and pleads that He come quickly to attend to his dying child. During their interaction, leaders of the synagogue rush to Jairus's side, informing him that his beloved daughter is gone and there is no point in troubling the Master with it.

Immediately, the Savior turns to Jairus and says, "Be not afraid, only believe."

Jairus has a choice. He can listen to these men telling him the facts--your daughter is dead, it's too late, there is no hope, nothing can be done. Or. . .he can listen to this Jesus of Nazareth telling him, "Don't be scared--hold on to that faith that brought you this far."

We know what Jairus chooses: faith. And in that moment I knew what my choice was too.

I know the facts. I know the odds.

But Heavenly Father has brought us this far and it is not in His program to forsake His children. He has seen me through every other trial--He is not going to fail me now. And He isn't going to fail you. It doesn't matter how big or small your problems are, He is aware of them and the pain of your suffering is graven on the palms of His Son's hands. But sometimes waiting is hard. I found a lot of comfort from the following, given by Sister Ann M. Dibb in Conference:

"As we wait, we may begin to believe that we have been forsaken or that our prayers were not heard or that possibly we are not worthy to have them answered. This is not true. I love King David’s comforting words: “I waited patiently for the Lord; and he inclined unto me, and heard my cry” (Psalm 40:1)."

So I will wait.

Day 11: Attitude of Gratitude

"The only way to get through life is to laugh your way through it. You either have to laugh or cry. I prefer to laugh. Crying gives me a headache."
-Marjorie Pay Hinckley

Things I find funny about my current situation:
(don't worry, nothing crude, maybe slightly embarrassing though)

1. My idea of getting all 'gussied' up is to take a shower (every other day if I am lucky) where I actually wash my hair and attempt to shave.

2. My frequent trips to the doctor are turning my son into a slight hypochondriac.
A frequent conversation he has using his foot as a phone (prefers right leg for emergency calls apparently):

"Heh-woe Gock-er. My name my Coe-ton--my stumb es boe-kun. Okay, Bye-bye."
(Translation: Hello Doctor, My name is Colton. My thumb is broken. Okay. Bye-Bye)

3. Me, former fitness girl now consider rolling my ankles, flexing my calves and lifting my laptop or meal tray a full-body workout. Ha, ha!

4. My hospital room is stationed in the Bermuda Triangle of cell phone service. Solitary confinement for this one.

5. How the phrase 'past due date' went from sounding like a dirty joke to the most wonderful thing in the world.

6. My parents can tell people that their daughter is involved with some heavy drug use--and they couldn't be more thrilled about it.

7. That I've gone from chasing a toddler and cooking three meals a day to laying around on the job and ordering all of my meals on a phone. (Don't get the mac & cheese if you stay here--I hear it's a no-go)

8. That my husband who was obsessed with McDonald's as a child will be staying at a Ronald McDonald House whenever he visits me--three cheers for all those Happy Meals!

9. The irrate look on my son's face when he realized I was using his diapers to help prevent having to change the sheets three times a day.

"I wount Coe-ton's guy-per" (We are trying to figure out why he refers to himself in 3rd person)

10. And finally, how many people I throw off when I refer to the baby as 'they' or 'them' since we don't know if this little one is a boy or girl. "There's more than one?!"
I'm working on it--my goal is not to do it once today.

Laughter is good medicine. I'll go through this either way--might as well be happy.

I'm grateful for humor. . .and for everyone of YOU. Have a laugh today--it will do ya good!

Day 10: Attitude of Gratitude

Have you ever heard the term 'metacognition'? It's a nice word--one to add to the vocab. list when you want to sound like you know what you are talking about. Anyway, metacognition is defined as "cognition about c0gnition"or more simply put "thinking about thinking". Have you ever thought about that--that you can think about the way you think. More importantly, that because of this ability to think outside the box that is your brain, you can change the way you think--manipulate it.

That, to me--is intelligence. It's like pulling your car off on the side of the road, turning down the radio and pulling out the map to make sure you are headed in the right direction. We all do it whether we are conscious of it or not--pretty powerful stuff.

That is what I thought about as I stared at my bedroom walls this morning wondering when the next time would be I would sleep in my own bed. And when I kissed my son goodbye amidst his crying and clinging to my neck sobbing 'Mama'. When I saw the ground for the first time in a week as my husband drove the hour and a half distance to the hospital and again when they wheeled me into my hospital room and gave me blood-work, an IV, my first round of steroids, and paperwork. And finally when I saw the torn look on my sweetheart's face as he walked out of my room and back into the real world.

Yup, I thought about metacognition. And I think that it isn't so much about going through an experience as it is about letting the experience go through us.

To win the prize of this race we call life you have to be a finisher and I want to be like the apostle Paul and say that in terms of this leg of the journey I 'fought the good fight'.

So as we round the corner after our first lap, let me just say thank you. We've made it this far in large part because of you: our cheering section. And more importantly because God has willed it so--for that, I am truly grateful today.

Have a wonderful Monday!

Day 9: Attitude of Gratitude

Being a Mom is the greatest blessing in my life.

I've taken it for granted for a long time.

Somewhere along the way I got down in the trenches of mommy-hood and forgot to peek my head out of the foxhole. I was so wrapped up in my world of spit-up, schedules and sleeplessness that I started losing ground. Maybe you can relate.

I saw myself getting more impatient with my husband and toddler, and then feeling guilt for that impatience, and then asking the Lord to help me be more patient and blindly wondering why I couldn't seem to scale the mole-hills in my life. So I tucked my head further down in the foxhole and tried harder. And sometimes it worked. There would be days where I'd get everything I wanted to done, take care of my family, never get upset at my child--it was wonderful. But then bad days would surface and I was back at square one.

And then something happened. . .

Two weeks ago my doctor told me that the baby inside of me, the one I'd planned on wasn't going to live.

I realized that I wasn't going to get to hold this infant in my arms, sing them to sleep, watch them roll over, kiss their velvet skin, take them to the park, and a million other things. How sacred and special every kiss, and cuddle, and moment I had been blessed with my two year old to have appeared now. All those things I'd taken for granted--how trivial and stupid things like spit-up, schedules, and sleeplessness became.

I don't know why it took something like this to wake me up, but I am so grateful Heavenly Father allowed this to happen. Mother's Day will never be the same. The way I mother will never be the same. I see my husband and child so differently now--it's like I've been given new eyes.

Happy Mother's Day.

Day 8: Attitude of Gratitude

Happy Mother's Day weekend! It's all about Moms around here so we'll make this a two-part series in honor of.

(quick apology on the random pics. i am using my laptop that has misc. pictures--working with what I've got here. sorry!)

“The love of a true mother comes nearer [to] being like the love of God than any other kind of love” (“The Love of Mother,” Improvement Era, Jan. 1910, 278)

I think that there are several women in my life who have exemplified this kind of love, so to me motherhood encompasses many--most importantly, there is the woman who gives life to you, selflessly raises you and is your constant well-wisher. There is the mother-in-law who fans her wings out a little further to shield you from the storms of life and considers you her own.

There are the Aunts waiting quietly on the sidelines, ever ready to help, encourage, and support. There are those magical Grandmothers who embody wisdom and kindness--who are biased in seeing only your good points and from whom you rarely ever hear criticism or receive reprimand.

And then there are those special ones--be they a teacher, a ward member or a woman in the community who in whatever capacity, and for whatever length of time provides that nurturing and guiding influence we are initially exposed to in the arms of our Mother.

So thank heaven for Moms. Thank heaven for mine.

Day 7: Attitude of Gratitude

While I Said My Prayers

by Hillary Calaway

My heart beats perfectly over 100,000 times a day,

2 million working parts in my eye coordinate without delay

200 muscles are employed for every step I gain

By nerves 170 mph pulses travel to my brain

Did any of this occur to me

while I said my morning prayers?

Or was I more concerned about

sharing with the Lord my cares.

Everyday my body produces 300 billion cells

And my nose alone recalls 50,000 different smells

The thigh bones that I use to walk are stronger than concrete

In 24 hours 23,040 breaths my lungs complete.

But did this enter in my mind

while I said my morning prayers?

Or do I as the hypocrite

Tritely put on airs.

3 bones the size of a penny help me to hear sound

While 43 muscles collaborate to pull off a single frown

10,000 taste buds on my tongue let me savor food

Red blood cells last for 120 days after they debut.

So why did none of this come up

while I said my morning prayers?

Perhaps with God my focus has drifted

from maintenance to repairs.

How fragile are the tabernacles

that house our spirits here

And how quickly I've forgotten

that it all can disappear.

Our days on earth are numbered

and time keeps ebbing on

May I be less guilty of ingratitude

with every passing dawn.

Today I am most thankful for my body and the one that's still growing inside of me. I hope you have a terrific weekend and enjoy the body you've been given regardless of its perceived flaws. I've been reminded that they are a gift, and not a given.

Day 6: Attitude of Gratitude

Hi everyone! We are just 3 days out from hitting our 24 week mark with this pregnancy and breathing our first sigh of relief.

Now before I bring back my scrunchies with my stirrup leggings and break out singing "I LOVE TECHNOLOGY" Napoleon Dynamite style let me share what piece of modern gadgetry has me super grateful today:

This beauty: (modeled by the scandalously clad Two Year Old):

My iTouch . . .

or as referred to by our in-house model 'THE BLUE SQUARE!'

Its powers are great, its capabilities many. I think I'm in love. I think the Two Year Old is in love. Actually, I know he's in love because one of the few ways I can get him to sit still for two minutes so I can kiss him to death are to beckon him to my bedside with App enticements like, "Skee-ball" or "Flick-Fishing". Yeah, I play dirty--you would too if the only other face-time the kid showed ya was to ask for a hand-hold while he bears down and works out his problems in the diaper department. It warms my heart to know that only I fill this need for him. Moms are good for stuff like that. Really, I consider it an honor.

So, in conclusion the iTouch gets 5 stars from this couch potato. I recommend it to all of you and add to that the wise words of my cousin, "Don't knock it 'til you rock it!"

Day 5: Attitude of Gratitude

I'm so grateful for temples. I can't wait to get the chance to go back to the temple once life settles down and I can sit up again.

(skip down a few posts and start reading if that last statement puzzles you)

One of the benefits to moving around a lot (and we've done our fair share) is that you get the chance to go to temples you might not otherwise get to see.

Can you figure out which temple is in each picture?

(Hint: they are all near places where we have lived)

Answers:

1. St. Paul Minnesota

2. Winter Quarters Nebraska

3. Idaho Falls Idaho

4. Columbia River Washington

5. Orlando Florida

Day 4: Attitude of Gratitude

(thank you Megan--these were YUM-O!)

This is a "cake"-walk--I know exactly what I am most grateful for today: FRIENDS

I have the best friends in the whole world--just read back through the comments on my blog. Amazing people who pick you up when life knocks you down, laugh with you in the good times, cry with you through the sad, and always let you know that they are there.

There is no way we could have made it through the last two weeks without all of you. THANK YOU for the manifestation of your friendship be it praying in our behalf, calling, texting, emailing, the thoughtful gifts, all of it.

So this one goes out to all of you. I think this Arabian Proverb says it best:

" A friend is one to whom one may pour out all the contents of one's heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that the gentlest of hands will take and sift it, keep what is worth keeping and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away."

(Thanks Sister Sorge--this lovely gift made my day!)

Day 3: Attitude of Gratitude

It's funny how many things I've taken for granted. Like washing my own clothes, cooking my family's meals, picking up after my two-year old's messes, or just picking up my two-year old for that matter, cleaning my house, going to the grocery store, and like a million other things. Things that require energy--work, essentially.

I guess it didn't fully click until now how much of a blessing it was when the Lord told Adam, "In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread" (Genesis 3:19).

I miss work. I miss that go, go, go 'how am I going to get it done', 'so many things to do' lifestyle I was living a couple of weeks ago. I dream about vacuuming, cooking delicious meals, and playing with Colton all day. (i know, it is crazy--and no, they aren't giving me drugs. . .yet)

I'm sure there are some busy Mommas reading this thinking, 'ha, you come to my house and see how much you miss work'. And you are right, this life is SO much work. It's exhausting--but mixed in with the laundry loads, and the midnight feedings, the running to this event and cleaning up after that one is all the good stuff.

So even though it sounds like heaven to have nothing to do all day but lay around take it from me, it gets old really fast.

All the best as you start another week of work. See you tomorrow!

Day 2: Attitude of Gratitude

Today is the mark for my 23rd week of pregnancy--hooray! Technically, we weren't supposed to last this long so I feel like that in itself is proof that miracles happen.

(If you are lost on what this is all about read the last three posts.)

Today I am most grateful for good music.

D&C 25:12 For my soul delighteth in the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads.

An Attitude of Gratitude

My wise father-in-law observed to me that trials have a way of reminding us where our blessings come from, and increasing our gratitude. When you lay in bed every single day, all day getting up only 4 times a day for 2 minute breaks to use the bathroom you have the opportunity to think. . .a lot! (no clue what I'm talking about? refer to previous posts for update.)

So, at the prompting of a good friend to check in every day online so all of you know we are okay, I am beginning a pregnancy gratitude journal. Every day I will list at least one thing I am truly grateful for. Here it goes:

Today I am most grateful for my wonderful husband Blaine. Did I tell you it is our 6 year anniversary today? It is. Blaine's Mom reminded us of the fact--we must have gotten a little side-tracked somehow. I felt so bad that I'd forgotten--you would think I'd have registered this event by now since I check the calendar five times a day just to make sure time hasn't changed, but was relieved when Blaine came in to the room and admitted he'd spaced it too. So we settled for a heart-felt hand hold, a good laugh and a 'Way to go, we made it!'

He told me he was so sorry I was spending our anniversary like this and I told him I wouldn't spend it any other way given the options. Life is so good. I have him, I have my healthy, beautiful son, and my baby is here with me kicking--what more could you ask for?

So Happy Anniversary Blaine. I love you!

All of you have a great day and give your sweetheart a kiss if you have one. Celebrate for us.

See you tomorrow!

I HATE gravity, I didn't want to go to the Olympics anyway, and Three Cheers for Blaine

(in case you are new to the scene and read this post wondering what in the world is going on-refer to the previous post)

I thought everyone could use an update on our situation, but before I dive into the good stuff (i.e. my potential future drug use and subsequent inability to compete in the Olympics, our new family routine, my prospective vacation at the hospital and more) let me offer our sincerest thanks to all of you for the fasting, praying, texting, calling, commenting and support the past few days. When we got the bad news Thursday, it felt like our life got turned upside down and we were drowning in a sense--but thanks to all of you we were able to resurface and realize that we aren't alone and that there is so much to be thankful for. So thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

We met with a high-risk pregnancy specialist yesterday in a town called Marshfield which is about an hour and a half from our home.

GOOD NEWS/BAD NEWS:

Good news--the baby is developing at the correct rate and looks great. There is just enough amniotic fluid left for those tiny little lungs and kidneys to keep going so that's good. I am healthy and infection free and the fact that I've stayed so for a month is promising. We have an amazing medical team behind us to take care of me and this little one should she/he debut soon. (we are waiting to find out what it is like we did with Colton--don't want this little one thinking they get special treatment right?!)

Bad news--I thought I would hit my 24 week mark this week which is sort of the breaking point for survival of a fetus at this point in pregnancy--not so. I measure closer to 22 weeks which means we've got a two week window to meet. Statistically, nothing is in our favor--we won't talk about the chance of me hitting that two week mark (LOW), delivering a baby that can survive (LOW), and that baby not having serious complications (LOW). I have little to no amniotic fluid and any time I spend vertical exacerbates the situation. Curse you GRAVITY!

THE PLAN:

Make it to my 24 week mark (May 10th) by staying on bed-rest 24-7 and drinking A LOT of fluid. If we meet that mark I will be admitted at 10 a.m. Monday morning to St. Joseph's hospital in Marshfield where I will stay until this little one decides to debut. They will immediately put me on steroids for the baby's lungs to develop at an accelerated rate (there goes my shot at the Olympics--up in flames that dream, but hey) and monitor me constantly so everyone is ready for the delivery. Blaine will go back to work, while our Moms take turns coming out to hold down the fort.

OUR NEW ROUTINE:

We're attempting to retain some semblance of normality here, although some things have changed and will be different for a while. My day goes something like this:

Wake up to baby kick, kick, kicking--study scriptures and thank Heavenly Father for one more day. Take a five minute shower, dress and lay back down to comb my hair, brush my teeth, and wait patiently to hear my son's pitter-patter of feet as he climbs the stairs, grabs an oatmeal packet from the kitchen and comes to my bedside requesting 'duice' and 'ohh-milk' (juice & oatmeal). I refer him to his Father because aside from my shower the only other movement I allow myself is a few bathroom breaks wherein I rotate between bedroom and living room (ya know--to switch things up. gotta keep it fresh). We won't talk about Blaine's day--he's turned into the one-man wonder cleaning, cooking, working, and handling everything he used to plus the half I covered. Que. the music, "What a man, what a man, what a mighty good man". All right--that's enough.

So we're hanging in there. We've got our fingers crossed and we're saying our prayers that we find May 10th at the entrance to St. Joseph's with a little one still in tow. We're not thinking about if we don't meet that two week goal or if we do, what could potentially result from our baby coming early. We will cross those bridges when they come.

And the best part is, we won't cross them alone.

Dialing the Grapevine

I don't know how to say this. I am a bit of an introvert and my personal bubble is more like cement than dish soap some days. So believe me when I tell you this is the hardest thing I've ever done but what is happening to our little family is a bit bigger than my pride and privacy issues.

I need you to pray for us. I need you to pray for us because I am 22 weeks pregnant and it looks like I might not get to experience a 23rd week. I know that this is really late to be announcing that we're expecting our second, but for some unexplainable reason I've held back sharing this good news until now. Call it a sixth sense, whatever you will. I'm truly sorry if this hurts or offends anyone.

So here's the story. (it's long and there are some squeamish pregnancy details so be warned if that bothers you.):

About a month ago while we were visiting family in Washington I started leaking uncontrollably. This happened right before we were set to drive over to Seattle to fly out first thing the next morning, so yeah, not great timing. I laid down for an hour, felt fine and got up with the thought that we'd get over to Seattle and if anything changed, we'd adjust our plans and get to an E.R. as my doctor had suggested. That plan went up in flames when I doubled over with pain on my way to the car and so we went to the local E.R. to check it out. After hours of sitting, a full exam and blood work the doctor concluded that the baby was just fine, I was healthy and well but had managed to do a first rate job of peeing my pants. Awesome.

Apparently this does occur, and with my kidney history (another day, another story) this made sense to me so I flew home without a hitch and thanked my lucky stars that all was well. After a checkup with my local clinic they figured that the doctor's conclusions were right and that I could go forward without concern.

Over the next 3 weeks I had three small incidents similar to those in Washington, always in the night during an especially heavy sleep (usually while I dreamed of running water and bathrooms. why do we not deduce better during unconsciousness?) so I chalked it up to incontinence and empathized a little more with the Depends community at large. Yikes!

Fast forward to this Tuesday when Blaine took off for a 3 day business trip to Madison. I am saying goodbye to my visiting teachers out the door and I feel the gush. I run to the bathroom and realize that this time it's a crimson tide. I fall apart for 2 minutes with the gravity of the situation, then pull on my big girl panties and suck it up. I call the doctor, they recommend I do an out-patient visit to the hospital and so I somehow manage to get a purse full of paraphernalia put together to care for Colton and drive myself to the hospital. More sitting again, more tests, an ultrasound later and they conclude that I am okay except that I am experiencing some irritation and inflammation in the nether-regions. (yes, I just said nether regions on my blog, go puke if needs be) The only red flag they see is that measurements from the ultrasound show that I am producing too little amniotic fluid which long term potentially is not good in lung and kidney development for the baby but they will wait until my scheduled ultra sound the 28th before they make any real judgments.

I call Blaine that night, explain that I'm 2 and 0 in the E.R., and that I feel fine aside from the guilt of amassing yet another hefty hospital bill. I am back to normal until last night around midnight when the gush happens again. I figure that this is just a result from the scarring and irritation but then it happens again at 2. And then 2:30, and then 3. Huh?

I call the after hours doctor (bless her heart--she is amazing!) and she bumps up my appointment to first thing this morning and says she'll see me herself to make sure everything is all right. So I sit on the couch from 3:00 on counting down the hours while trying to keep my mind off of the annoying KoolAid faucet I've become as of late.

By quarter to seven I lose my nerve and break down and call Blaine to give him an update, hoping he'll hop in his truck and drive the three hours to hold my hand and pat my back cause I'm not ready for big girl panties (literally, apparently.) Of course, I play the supportive wife and say, "no, no, I've got this. Colt can come along--I'll manage--just do what you need to do for work. I'll call with updates"

Well, this doesn't work for my Superman and wouldn't you know he was on his way and arrived at the clinic just in time to pick me up and dust me off one minute after the doctor explained my uterus is leaking and that we are going to lose this baby. (man what i wouldn't give right now to just be a pants-pee-er)

So here is where we sit. I am still pregnant and there is a perfectly healthy little boy or girl kicking and developing inside of me right now. I am producing amniotic fluid, my body just isn't keeping it in, and there are three directions this can take:

1. I develop an infection in the nether regions (sorry again) and it's game over. They have no choice but to induce because if I get an intrauterine infection that could mean no more babies-- period-- and maybe worse. This would not be an option for me if it was anything less serious because this means we would be choosing to lose a healthy baby.

2. The baby stops developing and can't hang on because of the lack of amniotic fluid.

3. A miracle. As my lovely doctor said, miracles happen. No sense tossing in the towel before the games over. Science doesn't explain everything.

Let me be realistic for a moment. (cause the tenor of this post has been so upbeat, right.)

What is happening to me VERY RARELY EVER occurs. Nothing I did caused this. It's a freak thing that almost never happens. What's even less likely is that when it does occur, the baby survives. Having said that, we know that most likely I am going to be going through labor soon, but that we won't be enjoying this little spirit during this lifetime.

That is a hard thing. I don't think, "why is this happening or did I do something to deserve this?" It just hurts.

And you know, isn't the real miracle knowing that this life isn't the end? That this is further incentive for Blaine and I to live our lives in such a way so as to be worthy of the presence of all our children. These things happen--this is a part of the bargain. Happiness has its counter. I've realized in the past 24 hours that the miracle isn't when God steps in and stops our personal Gethsemane. The miracle is when he brings us through it and we come out on the other side more like Him. So that we can see in the scars of our life the reflection of our Savior's own suffering.

My sweet Mom and Mother-in-law are spreading the word with our families that a special fast is being held this Sunday. Since we consider any one who reads this a part of our life and our family, we are opening the invitation up to anyone who would like to join in. As a personal request from me, if you do decide to take part, please fast for God's will to be done. I want whatever He wants to have happen. Not saying I understand it--but that's the point--I don't understand everything that He does. He's in charge.

Thank you for taking a few minutes out of your busy lives to read this. We love and appreciate your friendship, support and concern. It means the world to us right now.

Love that Smile

There's nothing worse at our house than a cold, rainy day. The Two Year Old would stay outside 24-7 if we let him. Most mornings the first words out of his mouth are 'wide a BIKE!' or 'chalk-walk' (side-walk chalk). And if you happen to go by our house while he is outside be you a jogger, the mailman, or a neighborhood kid you can bet that the Two Year Old will chase you down on his bike to say hello.

The "Easer Bun-EE"

Bonka & Bonka take us Wacin'!

We were lucky enough to share spring break with Blaine's family in Washington and part of our time was spent in Florence, OR camping and riding ATV's. (By the way, we missed you Bryce & Devin! It wasn't the same without you.)

Over the course of our stay, the Two Year Old added a few words to his vocabulary, namely:

"Daddee a Wacin"

(Translation: Daddy is Racing)

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"Good Yuck"

(Translation: Good Luck)

The Two Year Old with Aunt "Nash" (Janelle-yup, not even close) & Uncle "Deck" (Derek)

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The "Wacer"

(Translation: Polaris RZR or any ATV)

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Dah-win & Da-Shod-ee

(Translation: Dallin & Ashley)

The Two Year Old has been saying Dallin for a while now, but he finally put the right name with the right person. For a while there, Dallin was 'Byce' (Uncle Bryce), Bryce was 'Dah-win', and any other boys in the family were one of the two.

He was quite taken with Dah-win's wife, his Aunt Ashley and decided to give her the more urban chic name, 'Da-Shod-ee'.

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"Bonka & Bonka/Bonk-ee"

(Translation: Grandma & Grandpa)

Sorry, no pic of Grandma and me this trip. I was too busy on this adventure and was a lazy documenter.

Thanks for the wonderful memories and all that went into this trip Bonka & Bonka!

We Love YOU!