Stephanie's At The End Of Her Rope

So, as lots of you know, my dad's back in the Huntsman Cancer Institute.

When he had his larynx removed, he also had the lymphnodes in his neck removed, which now causes fluid to become trapped in his face/head. This is likely the cause of a series of severe nosebleeds he had at home which became bad enough, which, along with the swelling preventing him from breathing through his stoma, caused him to be air flighted to the hospital here.

He's stable right now, and communicates by writing the things he wants to say. When I visited him tonight, he was cracking jokes like his normal self.

I think that right now, I need to vent and to cry a little bit. I need to draw on the strength and support of others because emotionally and physically, I am exhausted.

Due to road conditions being so dangerous right now, my mom is in Winnemucca still. I'm totally fine with that, and actually encourage her to be there so she stays safe. However, this causes my little family to be the only ones who are close to the hospital and can take care of my dad while he's there. Don't get me wrong, I love spending time with him, and I'm glad were here to take care of him. I feel torn, though, since Anya needs me and can't stay at the hospital for too long before getting fussy and needing to go home to take a nap. I mean, she's 4 months old! She's now aware of the world and would rather cry for hours on end than take a nap during the day. Unfortuantely, this doesn't work for me at the hospital. (Heck, I want to rip my hair out at home when she decides to scream in order to stay awake.) Her Grandpa LOVES seeing her, and thouroughly enjoys the company when we visit, but I always feel our visits are too short. I feel that he needs more. So tonight, I left Anya with Daniel and went to the hospital by myself. I felt good at being able to stay for a few hours, but when I got home, I felt horrible for not being there with/for Anya and Daniel. Now here I am, unable to sleep, becuase I feel so bad for not holding my baby before she went to sleep, not having any time with my husband today, and for not being able to be with my dad for longer periods.

To make matters worse, I keep thinking about the fact that, as exhausted as I am, Anya is going to be awake wanting to eat in 4-5 hours. Then I think of how tired I'll be tomorrow, then I think of my poor dad in the hospital again and of how sick he has gotten in the past year or so, and I just...kind of worry about how to fix what's making the guilt I have happen. So this is where I need some help. Right now, I just really need some love and support and praise for what I'm trying to do for my childhood family and my grown-up family. Please, I really need some help right now.

4 Months!

Mine beebee is 4 months old! CRAZY!

She's hitting developmental milestones beautifully, rolling all over the place, and putting EVERYTHING in her mouth! Also, she has discovered her feet and loves to talk to them!

Still puny as ever, she weighs 10 lb 3 oz, is 26 inches long, and has a head. (I seem to never remember the head circumference...) She's in the 0 percentime for her weight, 25th for length, and 10th for head circumference.

A Bit On Motherhood

After Daniel put Anya to bed (since I'm having more seperation anxiety than the baby about this whole sleeping in the crib thing) I had a few thoughts that I'd like to share.

When I think about my first pregnancy, I'm not hurt like I was before. In fact, I'm not hurt at all. Based on the knowledge I have about the Plan of Salvation, I know that my child is out there somewhere serving our Father in Heaven. The child is still mine no matter what, and I know that someday we'll be reunited as a family. I'm actually pretty excited to get to know this person. Before Anya was even a prospect to us, thinking about the miscarriage hurt me so deeply that I almost couldn't function.

Now that I have Anya, I'm so appriciative for her in my life. Her very life is a miracle. For me to concieve without any kind of fertility treatment was supposed to be almost impossible. Since I was also on the pill, there is no reason why I should have become pregnant in the first place. I also have a pretty high chance for miscarriage with any pregnancy. Without the medication I had been on, there was about a 30% chance of keeping her. With the medication, that went up to about a 60% chance. Anya overcame so much before she was even born! Then, when I was in labor, we very well could have lost her. Had it not been for the attentive nurses and the miracle of C-Sections, my sweet baby may very well have been strangled to death before even taking her first breath.

Her amazing, wonderful spirit is helping me to keep going. I wouldn't say she helps me to overcome my depression since it's a constant battle that will never truly be "overcome." She does give me greater motivation to get up and stay busy. She's like Daniel, in that she can make me smile and laugh no matter how badly I'm feeling. It's in no way her responsibility to take care of me and make sure I'm mentally healthy, but looking into those beautiful, observant blue eyes fills me with something that I normally lack. I'm not quite sure what that which I lack is exactly, but Anya has it and can share it.

Anya is everything I had ever wanted in a child. She's spunky, smart, strong, beautiful, patient (most of the time), forgiving, and as a child, teaches me how to live in a way that I've forgotten. From her, I'm rediscovering the magic of feet, the absolute pleasure of seeing someone new, and what a hero her daddy is to both of us. Her love for life is completely contagious! I must admit that I'm slowly becoming an optomist.

Thank you, my sweet little one, for teaching me how to see life and all its magic and wonders again.

This Keeps Happening

I'm not really sure how she manages this based on how I swaddle her to begin with.

Three Months Old!

This week, our little cutie is three months old! (12 weeks old, technically) Since we still lack a camera, I don't have any cute three month old pictures of her (sad!) but I'll describe some of her development.

Anya can roll over! This isn't necessarily the best thing in the world, since now she likes sleeping on her side. If I don't swaddle her to prevent any kind of movement except breathing, she'll roll to her side or tummy. When I adjust her to lie on her back, she immediately goes back to her side.

She's understanding that there has to be a way to move from point A to point B while on her tummy, and can succeed in sticking her bottom up in the air with her face planted on the floor and her arms flailing around. She's learning how her little graspers work, and practices using them by holding my hands when I feed her. She'll pick up her binky when it's close to her and she wants it, but usually ends up throwing it rather than getting it in her mouth. When it's in her mouth, she'll hold it in place either with her palms, or by grabbing her blanket and holding it over the bink. (Normally, it's with the blanket. I'm not sure why she thinks that works better than by using her hands.)

She discovered the use of her tongue, and licks EVERYTHING that comes in close poximity to her mouth, which is usually my arms, my hands, or her arms. She thinks it's funny when she watches us eat spaghetti, and laughs her head off when the noodles wiggle around. She gets jealous when we eat anything else in front of her, and glares at us since we don't share. This lead to Daniel and I letting her taste the bread of the sandwiches we were eating the other day. She didn't like bread. I let her taste a cookie. She liked the cookie. I even went as far as putting a little chocolate ice cream on my finger when she was fussy last night and let her taste it to gether to be quiet. Well, she's definitely her father's daughter, in that she made a disgusted face and SCREAMED when she processed the flavor! Someday we'll have a kid who likes the things I like...(except likely not, since my body has issues with the whole conception thing.)

Her new noises include, "Eh Bah!" When she wants attention, "Ummuh..." when she's hungry, something that resembles, "yeah" when we talk to her and ask questions, and has started a tantrum cry...yay for us...

She's a social butterfly, and loves interacting with anyone who will look at her. If no one is looking at her, she'll make her cute, "I love you, pick me up!" noises. If no one listens, it makes her sad and she starts to cry. (Which is generally why we have to take her out of Sacrament meeting on Sundays.)

Well, the little cute just woke up from her nap, and is making happy noises in her crib, so it's time to play with Mommy!

Blessed

As of late, my posts have been mostly angsty, complainy, or severely opinionated. To show that I'm not completely pessimistic, (though I am a pessimist) argumentative, (therefore at times easy to manipulate) and opinionated, (sometimes) I want to talk about some of the things I'm thankful for. Just so all of you faithful readers know, I'm on day three of an intense migraine that refuses to go away in spite of all the excedrine I've been taking. This makes my cognitive abilities turn to mush, so excuse the spelling and gramatical errors.

I'm thankful to live close to the Huntsman Cancer Hospital. While my dad has been there recovering from his surgery, we've been able to take little Anya to visit him, which totally melts his heart. She loves her Grandpas, and it's so nice to have her and my dad spend time together. I'm also thankful for the hospital and doctos who have been working with him. In the very least, they've given him hope for the future. If everything goes as expected, he'll be able to eat as well as speak again. As far as I know, his tumor was benign. I'm thankful to have my dad in my family's life.

I'm thankful for baby Anya. She is such a light in our lives. I'm also thankful that she is demanding her space today since Daniel got me sick. This allows me to lie down and rest while she plays/sleeps in her own bed.

I'm so thankful for my Daniel. He works so hard to take care of me and Anya. Aside from working to support our financial needs, he is always quick to take Anya when I'm completely overwhelmed. He never complains, even if it's 2 am and he has work in the morning. He's a wonderful husband who is attentive to me and my emotional needs. He's a tender, compassionate man, and I have no idea how I ever managed without him. He's an incredible father. He's talented at getting Anya to calm down when she's fussy, and loves spending time with her. She absolutely adores her father, and I adore him as well.

I love my in-laws, and how supportive they are of all of their children and children-in-law. I'm thankful my mother-in-law came to help us out right after Anya was born. I'm also thankful for Havie, who reached out to me so much right after my miscarriage. I'm thankful for my four cute nieces. I can't wait to see the girls and young women they grow into. Actually, I can, since I think all of these little girls should stay little forever.

Anyway, I needed to talk about the good things going on in my life. Now I think I'll take a nap while Anya is happy/asleep in her bed. She REALLY doesn't want anyone to talk to her today, and gets mad if she sees me in her room.

More On Spanking

Yep, I'm still pretty riled up about this subject. Below is an article published in TIME on May 10, 2010 about the long-term effects of spanking children.



The Long-Term Effects of Spanking

By Alice Park

As many parents can attest, few disciplinary measures stop a child from misbehaving as quickly as a swift smack or two on the bottom.


But in a new study published in Pediatrics, researchers at Tulane University provide the strongest evidence yet that children's short-term response to spanking may make them act out more in the long run. Of the nearly 2,500 youngsters in the study, those who were spanked more frequently at age 3 were much more likely to be aggressive by age 5.

The study, led by community-health-sciences professor Catherine Taylor, was the first to control for a host of issues affecting the mother, such as depression, alcohol and drug use, spousal abuse and even whether she considered abortion while pregnant with the child. After controlling for all these factors — each of which can contribute to a child's aggression — spanking remained a strong predictor of violent behavior. "The odds of a child being more aggressive at age 5 increased by 50% if he had been spanked more than twice in the month before the study began," says Taylor.


The association remained even after her team accounted for varying levels of natural aggression in children, suggesting, she says, that "it's not just that children who are more aggressive are more likely to be spanked."


Among mothers surveyed in 20 cities when their children were both 3 and 5 years old, nearly half (45.6%) reported not spanking their 3-year-olds in the previous month, 27.9% reported spanking once or twice that month, and 26.5% reported spanking more than twice. As 5-year-olds, the children who had been spanked were more likely than the nonspanked to be defiant, demand immediate satisfaction of their wants and needs, become frustrated easily, have temper tantrums and lash out physically against other people or animals.


The reason for this may be that spanking sets up a loop of bad behavior. Corporal punishment instills fear rather than understanding. Even if children stop tantrums when spanked, that doesn't mean they get why they shouldn't have been acting up in the first place. What's more, spanking sets a bad example, teaching children that aggressive behavior is a solution to their parents' problems.
"There is now some nice hard data that can back up clinicians when they share their caution with parents against using corporal punishment," says Dr. Jayne Singer, clinical director of the child and parent program at Children's Hospital Boston, who was not involved with the Tulane study.


The American Academy of Pediatrics (AAP) does not endorse spanking under any circumstance. It's a form of punishment that becomes less effective with repeated use, according to the AAP; it also makes discipline more difficult as the child outgrows it.


Instead of spanking, the AAP recommends time-outs, which typically involve denying the child any interaction, positive or negative, for a specified period of time. These quiet moments force children to calm down and think about their emotions rather than acting on them reflexively. After all, the goal of punishment is to get children to understand not just that they did something wrong but also what motivated them to do it.

Conversation At Denny's/We Have A Social Butterfly

Daniel and I had dinner at Denny's tonight, and I overheard a conversation of the people in the booth next to us. They were talking about methods of discipline, and said that there is no better way to discipline a child than by spanking. In fact, one individual stated that if one doesn't spank their children, they spoil their children.

Yeah, I'm totally NOT okay with that. In fact, I am firmly against spanking as a form of discipline. No matter how you look at it, if you spank, your hand is still forcibly coming in contact with a child's body. That's still hitting. This is just me talking, but spanking is still hitting, the word is just sugar-coated a little. By having the need to hit a child, it shows that a caregiver is not in control of him/herself, and is using bullying as a method of maintaining control over a situation.

Spanking could also be seen as a double-standard. As parents, we generally teach our children it's not acceptable to hit others. If we allow ourselves to spank/hit them, it teaches them that 1) it's okay to hit if you want someone to do what you want them to do, and 2) we're not consistent in our teachings.

This is probably one of the few things that I both get heated up about as well as am outspoken about. If I offend anyone with this, please know that I'm sorry you may feel upset, but I don't apologize for how I feel on this one. In my experience with children, even the most mis-behaved children will respond to other forms of discipline, and I've never needed or wanted to hit a child to get him/her to behave.



Alright, now that the serious stuff is all done, I want to share some funny Anya moments!

• When we were at the WIC office, Anya started talking to ANYONE she saw! She jabbered and had staring contests with babies, smiled and giggled at grown-ups, and even went as far as yelling to get people to look at her.
• When we take her to visit my dad in the hospital, she gets mad if we pay more attention to him than her. She also doesn't understand why Grandpa doesn't hold her, and when she's interested in looking at him, does EVERYTHING she can to charm him into picking her up.
• Has just learned how to splash water completely out of the baby bathtub. She thinks this is hilarious, and will laugh her head off while splashing in the water.

Amazing...

Have you ever, while trying to make an illigal U-turn and causing a traffic jam in the process, flipped off EVERY person who looked at you/may have glanced your way? No? Neither have I, but when we were about to get on the freeway today, we saw a crazed psycho do just that.

We were trying to get into the left turn lane to get from State Street to 7200 south, and some van driver was totally stopped in it. We went around them, I looked at the driver like, "seriously? Moron," and she flipped us off! Then, as she floored it and nearly ran another driver off the road in her psychotic rage of a U-turn, she sticks her hand out the window and flips off the driver she nearly killed!

So, driver of the van, apparently using the little holes in the wall to do your hair into a ball of friz not only succeeds in making you look like crap. It also gives you poor people skills and driving abilities. I hate you. The end.

2 Month Stats

Anya weighed in at 8 lb 10 oz (slightly bigger than Anna when Anna was born lol) putting her in the 5th percentile for her weight

She is a whopping 22 inches long, and in the 50th percentile for her length

Her head circumferance is...something? I can't remember the number, but she's in the 5th percentile for her head circumference.

Overall, she's like a little grown-up porportionally, and quite unporportioned for a baby her age.

The poor girl got her shots today! She was chatting with the nurse, and WHAM! She stuck Anya with a needle! Poor little banana screamed! Thankfully, once the shots were over, Daniel gave her the binky, and I cuddled her, and she quieted down to a wimper. It wasn't nearly as bad for us as her parents as I thought it would be, and she felt happier when we got home, fed her, and changed her diaper. She even played with Daniel while on the changing table for a bit before fussing again!

I Yelled At The Computer Guy

So, it turns out that there aren't many Mac repair shops ANYWHERE! I found 2 in the Salt Lake Area, and neither were of any help to me.

As a consumer who hopes people read her blog, I want to tell how one company is ridiculously expensive and how the other caused me to yell at some poor salesman and made me cry.

Today, I went to SimplyMac, hoping to get my MacBook fixed. The backlight on my monitor is having issues, and I REALLY need it fixed. The tech I spoke with treated me like an idiot. (Which, when it comes to computers, I'm not as smart as he his, most likely. He didn't have to treat me like a preschooler for Pete's sake!) After going in circles, he told me that unless we have AppleCare (which we don't...) it would be $75 to just LOOK at the computer to see what's wrong! What kind of crap is that?? So I took the computer and had to go home and ask Daniel about AppleCare, since I wasn't sure if we had it.

I refused to pay $75 just for them to tell me my computer doesn't work. (Morons...) This lead me to find a different store, ExperCom. I called them, and the guy I spoke with told me what he thought was wrong, quoted me a price to fix it (without a stupid $75 charge to tell me it's broken) and told me I could bring it in today and they would take a look at it. Confident in the system again, I hurried myself and my MacBook to South Jordan (when I COULD have stayed home to comfort my fussy baby) where the guy WASN"T EVEN THERE! Some idiot sales rep told me they couldn't even LOOK at it until Monday since they wouldn't order the part until Monday. Um...seriously? I told him that I just wanted to know exactly what is wrong with the computer, since it could be potentially up to $800 to fix it. He told me there was no way ANYONE could look at it until Monday since they didn't have the parts.

I'll admit, I freaked out a little at this point. My baby had been crying all day, Daniel starts work on Monday and will take the car so I have absolutely no way of getting it to a repair shop, I'd gone to South Jordan for what was now no reason, and this punk had obviously no idea what he was doing and was unsuccessfully BSing his way through his workday. (The guy who was in line in front of me was having issues with the jerk as well.)

I told him I was frustrated that I had come there and wasted my time just to be told they can't help me. He then looked up the parts, quoted me the exact same thing as the guy on the phone, and thought he'd done a good job. Instead of causing a HUGE scence and ripping the guy a new one when the guy I spoke on the phone with deserved to be yelled at as well, I took my computer, got in the car, and called Daniel to complain to him about this horrible company. My computer is still not fixed, and it seems like, even in an economic recession, no one wants my money to fix it.

So, my rating for Expercom: well, there's no number low enough to emphasize my point, so lets say if a giant foot from the sky starts stomping on South Jordan, I hope it finds ExperCom and only ExperCom. Then I would laugh and have an unrighteous sense of gratification.

My rating for SimplyMac: -3. You. Suck.

Now, since I have no idea what else to do, if anyone out there reading this knows of some kind of Mac Repair place, PLEASE let me know.


Oh, and one last note, for those who saw my Facebook status offering free dinner to the first person who gets my baby to nap at least 60 minutes, I'm upping the reward to free dinner and two pans of fudge.

Guess Who's Almost Sleeping Through The Night

Anya!

Last night, she only woke up twice to eat, and quickly fell back to sleep right after eating. The night before, she let me sleep 6 hours straight without waking me up to feed her. My baby rocks!

Everyone In The World Is Stupid Except Me...

Alright, so that isn't true by any means, but it sure felt good to say.

So, my loyal readers, time to hear me rant for a moment or two.

Guess who pretty much lost another commission thanks to events and individuals completely out of his hands? Guess what that means for us?

1.  We have no money, and no prospects for money for a while.
2.  This means that my maternal instincts are causing me to want to tear someone's (anyone's) eyes out since our  financial situation only allows us to pay for rent, gas, some food, and utilities. Oh, and diapers. Our house would smell bad without diapers. I am thankful Anya is too little for baby food and has lots of clothing given to us for when she gets bigger. Since I breastfeed, we don't buy formula. On a side note, right after I talked about my house smelling bad without diapers, a smelly diaper smell wafted over to me. Oh the irony that makes up my life...
3. This also means that I am forced to watch my husband struggle emotionally without being able to do a single thing to make it better for him. This is probably the hardest thing about all of this. I strive to be supportive, but he, as a man, needs to be able to provide for his family. When I say this, I don't mean that I refuse to work because a man should take care of me. (If I thought that, I'd loathe me.) This attitude of needing to provide is part of Daniel's character. He has been looking for another job, but hasn't been able to land one yet. This is so hard on him as well. Watching the man I love struggle so much is very much tearing me apart.

Alright, rant's over. I am very thankful for the things we do have. We don't have any debt. We have a decent place to live and the rent isn't outrageous. Anya's smiles can lift our spirits no matter how low we feel.

Aww, speaking of whom, just woke up with the cutest, saddest little face at realizing she needs a new diaper. Poor diaper baby.

I Will Believe

I know that my Redeemer lives. I know that he loves me and desires me to be with Him.

I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and I believe this to be the most true and most right church. It is spearheaded by the living Christ, who is as real and as tangible as I am. He loves us unconditionally, but doesn't always have to approve of our choices and actions. As a parent to my sweet little daughter, my love for her will never diminish, but there will be times when she makes choices that I will not like or approve of. These choices may hurt me and others around her. As I may chastise her in these instances, that doesn't change the love I have for my child. The same goes for the Lord. As we make decisions that he may not like or approve of, he will chastise us to teach us correct principles. If I discipline my daughter as she gets older, it is because I love her and want to teach her correct principles.

As the Lord lives, I have made covenants, or promises, to follow Him. I have been baptized into the church by the authority of the Priesthood which was given to men from the literal hands of the Lord. I prepared and was able to go to the temple, where I made further covenants to keep the commandments. I made the commitment to become married, and, with my husband, was married and sealed by the same Priesthood to the man of my dreams. Because of this, my marriage will not end at the grave, but continue on for all eternity. Because of the Plan of Salvation, the child that we lost will still be our child, and we the child's parents, for all eternity.

This isn't meant to cause contention. I wholeheartedly respect every person's right to believe what they wish. If I share what I believe, I will listen to others' beliefs. However, if a person wishes to argue about how my beliefs are wrong and refuse to listen to my opinions on the matter, I must respectfully decline to discuss the matter with those individuals. I work to try to understand others' opinions and have a calm, intellegent conversation with others, trying to find common ground and, at times, agreeing to disagree. Please allow me the same courtesy with my beliefs and opinions.

Anya Loves...

Besides food, pooping, and her Mommy and Daddy, there are three things Anya loves.

1. Jammies!

Anya LOVES her pajamas! She can fall asleep happily without being swaddled or cuddled when she is wearing her jammies. 

2. The pink bouncer

She doesn't like the bassinet since she can't look around when she's in it. She doesn't like the crib since it's still too big for her, but she sleeps peacefully for up to 4 hours in her bouncer. 

3. The pink bink

For whatever reason, she will spit out every other bink she has and scream until we give her the pink bink. She takes it when she thinks she's hungry, (but spit up half of what she ate since she ate too much...) when she's sleepy, when she has a tummy ache, and even when she's happy. The pink bink keeps Daniel and I from going crazy, and if they ever get lost, we may cry as much as she does. 

On the topic of Anya sleeping, she's the noisiest sleeper I know! She frequently will squeak like a puppy, then stretch and go back to sleep. Is this normal or is my child a more eccentric sleeper than most babies? Either way, she sure keeps us entertained!

Running of The Bulls Man

Coming soon to Stephanie's blog...

Nighttime With Anya

Nighttime with Anya is a blessing and a curse, we've realized.

She is AMAZING at falling asleep between 9-10 p.m., waking up around midnight to eat, then quickly going back to sleep until 2-3 a.m. She's such a wonderful sleeper during this time!

Unfortunately, once she wakes up for her a.m. feedings, she either wants to stay up to play or stay up to cry. Usually I'm so tired by this point that I fall asleep while standing up that Daniel will take her for a while. My sweet little girl will stay awake (with short naps, as in 30 minutes at a time) until about 10 a.m., when she demands to be nursed and will go to sleep until noon. After eating at noon, she goes back to her routine of waking up every two to three hours to eat.

Someday we'll get this sleep-wake routine down. :)

Emotional Manipulation

Anya has evidently discovered the fine art of using our love for her to our disadvantage.

The other morning, Daniel had Anya, and I was asleep in the bedroom. I woke up to her crying, and heard her distinctly yelling at Daniel! He brought her to me so she could eat, and the whole time she ate, she looked at me with the saddest eyes, wimpering, telling me how mean Daddy had been in not feeding her.

Then, earlier this evening, she was wide awake and pretty interactive. Her doctor said that when she's awake like that, we can give her tummy time. I laid a blanket out on the floor, set her on it, and laid next to her to watch her play. Evidently this was NOT what she wanted AT ALL! After working her neck muscles a little, she SCREAMED! I picked her up, she continued screaming, so I handed her to Daniel for a minute. The SECOND she was placed in her Daddy's arms, she calmed right down, and started making happy faces at him.

She's 16 days old. I thought I wouldn't have this happen until a few months from now. Heaven help us.

2 Week Checkup

Anya went to the doctor for her first post-hospital checkup today!

She weighed in at 6 lb 5 oz, which is a lot compared to her birth weight of 5 lb 9 oz!

She's 19 inches long, compared to 16.75 inches

Her head circumference is 33 cm, and since I have no idea what her birth circumference was, hooray for Anya having a head!

She's in the 15th percentile for her weight, length, and head circumference. She's still iddy bitty, but catching up quickly!

Anya Marie

I probably should talk about my sweet girl's entrance into the world. I went into labor around 1 p.m. on the 19th, when my water broke all by itself! (About 90% of the time, the membranes don't rupture before labor begins. Usually, they rupture long after the intense labor contractions have started.)

When I told Daniel my water had broken, he surprised me by causally saying, "no it didn't."

Umm...wow? Seriously? No freak out? And hey! I DID NOT pee myself!

After convincing him my water HAD broken, and after calling the doctor to make sure we needed to go to the hospital now, he agreed that we needed to go. I grabbed my overnight bag, made a few last minute checks to make sure I had everything, and Daniel decided to make some calls for work before we left. I sat down, laughing at my weird husband, waiting for him to get done. (If he took more than 5 minutes, I seriously would have driven to the hospital without him.) On a bit of a side note, when he was talking to his boss about one of the loans he is working on, he mentioned, "My wife thinks she's in labor." Peter responded, "Why does she think that?" Daniel answered, "Oh, her water broke." Then Peter said, "Um...yeah. That means she's in labor..."

We left for the hospital, and they checked me out. I was 90% effaced and 3 cm dilated. They confirmed that my membranes has ruptured, and then my contractions hit. Let me say that as much as I admire women going all natural, yeah, that so wasn't going to happen for me. When I asked for the epidural an hour later, I was at a 3.5. There was no way I was going to keep going without pain relief.

I kicked Daniel out of the room on an errand to get batteries for our camera while the epidural was being placed. He got back just in time for everything to go crazy.

About 20 minutes after the epidural was placed, Anya's heart rate dropped to 70 from 150 where it had been. All of a sudden, there were several nurses moving me, trying to move her head to get her heart rate up, and none of it worked. Something was very wrong with my baby. Before I knew it, they were literally RUNNING my bed to the O.R. I asked if Daniel was going to be in there for the C-Section, and they said he might get there in time. Needless to say, I was very afraid. I wasn't opposed to a C-section at all, but the fact that my baby was in distress and my husband may not have been able to be there for her birth made me want to cry.

As they rushed me into the O.R., all I could think to do was pray. I couldn't fathom losing my baby now, right when it was almost time to meet her. I begged the Lord that my baby would be okay. I had no idea what was wrong.

Thankfully, Anya's heart rate went up to 120 once we got to the O.R. With every contraction, it would go dangerously low, then pick up to 120 when the contractions would ease up. The surgeon discussed with me that her heart rate was picking up, and while they didn't need to operate right away, it would probably be in Anya's best interest if we did a C-section. They were able to get Daniel into the room, and felt confident enough about waiting for my doctor to get there that I didn't go under the knife right away.  He did give us the option of trying for a vaginal delivery, explaining that the same thing could happen again, and they may not be able to get her in time. Without hesitation, we chose to do a C-section.

With all of the pain meds they had given me, and with how terrified I was at this point, I don't really remember much about the actual C-section. At some point, my doctor must have gotten there, since  I remember her assisting with the C-section, but I don't remember her getting there. I remember hearing Anya cry, but thinking it was one of the machines in the room. They told me her umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck, and each time a contraction happened, it was choking her. No matter what, we would have needed a C-section in order to have her born safely. Then I remember being sewn up, and taken back to my room.

Daniel stayed with Anya in the nursery while I tried to sleep. Every now and then, he came to check on me. Each time he came in, he told me how well she was doing. Her sucking reflex was strong. According to the nurses, she was EXTREMELY active compared to other newborns. She was small, but completely healthy. About an hour and a half after she was born, I finally got to meet her and hold her for the first time.

Anya is 10 days old now, and the 10 days she's been here have been the best of my life. She's growing like crazy! She eats SO much for a 5 and a half pound little girl. I love being up at night with her, and love the way she looks at me after she eats. I'm so thankful that we had such good doctors and nurses to help keep my baby safe.

One last thing before I go. Thanks to having a C-section, we found out that I have a heart shaped uterus, which isn't dangerous to me in any way, but means that I will NEVER go past 38 weeks with any subsequent pregnancies. The doctors determined that the reason why my water broke by itself was because when I had a braxton-hicks contraction before my water broke,  it put uneven pressure on the amniotic sac, which caused it to rupture. There's a small chance for preterm labor with subsequent pregnancies, but at least I never have to go the full 40 weeks.

Ant Wars Episode I: The Bedroom Menace

For the first time that I can remember, my house has ants! ARGH!

I'm not as much grossed out by them as I am deeply annoyed by them. Especially since I found most of them conspiring UNDER MY BED! That is a NO GO zone! So, for the next few posts, I will be chronicling what will hereto for be known as, "Ant Wars."

We had seen a few in the living room this morning, carrying some cracker crumbs. Not wanting them to tell the other ants where a stash was located, I had them meet Mr. Vacuum. I figured they were coming from the foundation or something, and thought we'd see more in the living room.

Then, to my insult, I moved a pillow in our bedroom from off the floor, AND THERE WERE LIKE 40 ANTS UNDER IT! By this point, Daniel had taken the car to work, so there was no chance of me getting ant traps or poison for them. Again, I decided they should meet Mr. Vacuum. Mr. Vacuum has proven a precious ally in this saga so far.

Since we had clothes on the bedroom floor (yeah, yeah. I have clothing on the bedroom floor. I'm a horrible wife and mother...it's not like none of you have folded laundry lying around that hasn't been put away yet.) I picked them ALL up, put them ALL back in the hamper, and have like 4 loads of laundry to do instead of 1. (Curse you ant scum!) As I picked up the clothes, I found a HUGE congregation around a piece of food that was lying next to the trash bucket. Again, I called upon Mr. Vacuum for help. However, these ants were smarter than their fallen brethren. They had covered a chain of paper clips, and as Mr. Vacuum feasted on the ants and crumbs, he sucked up a chain of paper clips, which got stuck around the bristles of my vacuum.

For now, many ants have gone free. However, little do they know that I have located one of their bases under the bed and possibly in the wall.  Also, as they celebrate their assumed victory, they don't know that I was able to save Mr. Vacuum from an untimely death, and now it's personal. No one gets away with hurting my vacuum!

Into My Brain

I thought of a decent way to describe what it feels like going from stable and happy to depressed. Mostly I'm pretty proud of myself for thinking this up.

Normally, a person's brain works like a railroad track. The track allows trains to transport things from one place to another. Taking that imagery to apply to the mind, the train symbolizes the chemicals interacting with one another to keep one's emotions stable. Sometimes we feel angry, scared, or sad, but these chemicals travel from point A in the brain to point B, helping us sort through and get through these emotions. A normal, non-depressed person's brain would look something like this in our imagery:

The chemicals can travel smoothly along their "track," so to speak.

Sometimes, my brain can resemble this. Everything is held together, and the chemicals can travel and interact with different parts of the brain easily. However, sometimes, something slips. A railroad spike comes loose, or a rail gets warped. Eventually, my brain looks more like this:

With no track to go on, the chemicals get "lost." They don't interact with the parts of the brain they need to, and it's like a train wreck happens in my mind. Once the damage has been done, the only thing I can do is try to fix it. As I take care of myself and do what I need to do, take proper types and dosages of my anti-depressants, slowly, my train track gets fixed. Sometimes I need help from friends and family to fix it. Sometimes I need the help of psychologists to help sort out the mess and rebuild my train track.

I thought this was pretty good.

On another note, I've been feeling much better than I was before. Having the support of friends and family has helped more than I can express, and I'd like to express my gratitude at all those who reached out to me when I wasn't feeling well. That's not to say I won't become depressed again later on, but for now, I'm pretty stable. I even got excited about having a cute little girl, so I made a cute little headband and a cute little hat! Needless to say, my daughter is going to be the absolute cutest thing ever.

Diaper Dillema

Alright ladies who have babies, I have a question for you:

I've been contemplating the use of cloth diapers. I've heard both good and bad things about them, and my dilemma lies in cost. Looking at our finances, we need to cut corners about everywhere. Cloth diapers could save us a TON of money. My question is, how many people have used cloth diapers, which ones are best, and how long do they last? Help me, please!

Cinnamon Pancakes, Yard Sale Goodies

This post is going in a completely different direction than where I have been going lately. I just wanted to say that I had a craving for pancakes this morning, and put some cinnamon in the batter. In a nutshell, I make a delicious pancake.

Also, we found an ad on KSL for free baby clothes! This family who lives a few blocks away from us had a yard sale, and were giving away the leftover stuff. We scored BIG on baby clothes. (Anya will look like a boy sometimes, but she won't have much of a say in the matter.) Daniel also found the CUTEST stuffed bunnies! It's a plush Mommy bunny holding a baby bunny. We both squealed for the cuteness factor. (Note: by "squeal," I mean Daniel said, "Oh, how cute," in a very manly way.)

Too Hot To Sleep

I feel stable today. I'm not better from this downswing yet, but I am feeling pretty stable. I'm able to feel, which is a huge difference from numbing myself from all feeling whatsoever.

I've been thinking about this pregnancy quite a bit. I haven't really told anyone these thoughts except Daniel. He's so trustworthy when it comes to my feelings. He never looks at me with a stunned or horrified expression when I tell him things. He never laughs, unless I'm trying to be funny, of course. He has been my anchor, and I love him very much for that.

When I first found out about the pregnancy, you'd think that I'd be jumping for joy and going crazy, right? I mean, we'd been trying for a while, told I would be incapable of conceiving without the help of fertility treatments, and had pretty much given up for the time being. I felt very uncomfortable with the idea of fertility treatments since there is no guarentee that they will work. We couldn't afford them yet anyway, but I really didn't like the idea of forcing my body to done something it seems unwilling to do. I had graciously accepted that pregnancy would probably never be part of my life. We had talked about having kids, and together decided that adoption was a miracle and wonderful option for us when we were more stable financially. Getting pregnant seemed like the answer to our prayers.

In reality, I took two pregnancy tests, and didn't believe the results of either. A third pregnancy test confirmed Anya's existence to me. While Daniel beamed with happiness, lavishing me with love and attention in excitement for having a child, I retreated into myself. I didn't smile for the first couple of weeks. Part of me didn't want a baby right now. A bigger part of me knew the pain of losing a baby, and I knew that my body had a good chance of rejecting the pregnancy. I kept thinking, "Why be happy for something that's either already dead or will be in a week or so?"

It's not that I didn't want her at all. I found out a few days before the Spring Semester started, and was worried that I'd have to withdraw if I miscarried or, if by some miracle kept the baby through the first trimester, was too sick to go to school. Mostly, I didn't want to have to put my life on hiatus because of some depression-triggering, traumatic event.

Every time I went to the bathroom, I expected to see blood. Every time I went to the bathroom, though, there wasn't any. Then I went in for a 7-week ultrasound. I knew they would find something wrong, give me the sympathetic look, and tell me, "I'm sorry..." However, something else happened. I saw Anya's heartbeat. It was strong and healthy. I didn't want to let myself feel any relief, but there she was, seemingly happy in her water-balloon of a home.

Three weeks later, the doctor told us she was perfectly healthy at 10 weeks. Her heartbeat was strong, and she was growing at a very normal rate. I didn't want to tell anyone until our 20 week ultrasound, just to make sure everything was still fine at that time, but Daniel was bursting at the seams with excitement, and told friends and family the second his persistence at wearing me down on that one paid off.

I didn't feel anything toward her besides a respect for her life, and a worry that I would do something to jeopardize that life. I wasn't excited, though. I didn't really look at baby items and squeal for some time. I didn't really talk to her or have Daniel feel my belly unless he wanted to. I went to school, did my homework, threw up a lot, and tried not to think about the future. I didn't talk to anyone about my fears and doubts concerning pregnancy, since I was afraid of being scrutinized by the only people I had to talk to. If I imagined talking about this, I saw them saying, "Why would you not want a baby? You should feel ______" I didn't want my feelings brushed aside. I wanted someone to hold me and say, "I understand how you feel. I'll help you as much as I can."

I felt guilty and sad about the pregnancy. I felt guilty because of how almost indifferent I felt toward my child. I felt sad because I felt as if I had once again lost control of my life.

Today, my mind keeps circling around the beginning of my pregnancy. I feel better about the pregnancy itself now, and actually just want to hold my little lady, count her fingers and toes, stroke her soft skin, and fall in love with that fact that she's mine. Before, I didn't feel good. Maybe I feel guilty for not being excited for her. My reasoning makes sense, and if someone else were in my shoes, I'd probably say that the feelings they had are normal, and that it's okay to feel that way, knowing how viable the pregnancy could be. I don't think I have a need to forgive myself since, honestly, I don't feel that I've done anything wrong.

Maybe my fear and sadness now lie in the fact that I feel the need to have others forgive me. This seems totally ridiculous now that I'm saying it, but it may very well be the thing plaguing my mind right now. I love being LDS, but sometimes LDS culture can seem very closed-minded. I'm afraid that my LDS friends and relatives will think I committed some "great sin." Whether or not they think that doesn't really matter in the long run. I don't go to church just to see friends. I go to church because I feel it inspires me to come closer to the Lord. I guess I just don't want to deal with the looks that people may or may not be giving me. (I say that since I know the looks can be completely in my head.) I guess I want to be accepted for who I am, no strings attached. I'm afraid of people, but maybe that's why I feel I'm not accepted. Maybe I assume they will reject me, so I reject them before they reject me. I am who I am, and I know that Jesus loves me. I know that my husband loves me for who I am, everything about me inclusive.

I think that's why I wanted to blog tonight. I wanted to lay a piece of me out on the table as it is, and let people think what they want about me. I wanted to say, "screw it to feeling scared about what other people think." I don't like having skeletons in the closet. They take up too much space.

Depression. Serious Post.

Today, it's okay to admit that I have been struggling pretty deeply with depression lately. Today, it's okay to admit to the world that I don't feel well, and just want to lie back down and go to sleep until this is over. I'm not suicidal today. I haven't been for about three years. I'm thankful for that.

I know that I'm depressed, and there is no hiding from it. If I try, I'll totally sink under it. I don't want to sink. I'm going to use this blog for a little while as a way to stay connected with reality. If someone outside me can read what I feel, then what I feel is real.


This started before we went to Nevada, and therefore before my Dad was in the hospital. The events which took place in Nevada served as a distraction from my own feelings. Then when I wasn't needed anymore and came home, my depression slipped back in. It never truly goes away. I have good days, but depression itself is something I will struggle with probably for the rest of my life. Through the miracle of anti-depressants, my good days last longer and are more productive. However, if I forget to take them regularly or once I build up a tolerance to the medication I'm currently on, they lose their effect, and I'm very likely to become depressed again.

I'm not angry about any of this. I'm not saddened, either. Depression is part of my life. It's something that comes and we deal with. It's something that can be treated and maintained, but not cured in this life. I understand the power of the atonement, but I also know the will of the Lord concerning this through personal revelation.


For now, I feel isolated and alone. I can't remember how to communicate properly with others. If someone reaches out to me, it's almost impossible to feel their love, although I do crave the love others show. When I think of others, I see them looking down on me and scrutinizing my every action. I'm very afraid of the ones I need to help me get better.

Now that I've said that, I feel less antsy. I'm afraid of the people who love me, which prevents me from getting help, which further encourages my depression.

When I feel like writing again, I will. I need to know that I'm not alone right now.

Anya's Personality

We've noticed a few distinct things about our little girl so far, which include:

1. Severe stubbornness. When she finds a comfortable place to be, there is NO moving her. Poking her, singing to her, talking to her, making loud noises to try to scare her, and pushing her feet away are all futile. Yesterday, I even tried getting up to go to the bathroom while she was in her comfy place, and she threw herself into the ab muscles I was using, causing me to fall back to where I was.
2. Fascination with her feet and the things they touch. She seems to love squirming around and touching things with her cute little feet. Daddy's hands and arms are particular favorites
3. A strong appriciation for spicy food. Since being pregnant, it doesn't really give me heartburn or indigestion. Once it hits Anya, she makes her happy movements. She is SO my father's grandchild.

We Went To Get A Dryer Vent Hose And...

We ended up at the thrift store down the street. We found a pretty nice reclining chair which Daniel was sure he could carry home. We then discovered it comes apart, and we could actually fit it in the car! This is what our car looked like with a full sized chair in the back:

We decided to go back inside to look at baby clothing, and got a little excited. At least Anya is going to look cute! And since our little lady is a bit unavailable to model for us, my belly and Daddy got suckered in to showing off her new clothes.

An explanation on this one: Daniel's hand is Anya's head, and his finger is Anya smiling since she has a cute hat.












This is what our new chair looks like now that it's all set up:

Oh, and Daniel's new tie matches the chair.

All in all, we spent about $20. We rock!

4d Ultrasound

We're WAY too poor to have this done, but this picture is too stinking adorable!

This is similar to what our little cutie probably looks like right now! Now that she has everyone hooked around her little finger, she'd like me to inform our readers that they should all check out our baby registry, and that she would LOVE any presents, new or used, set up and ready for her when she gets here. Don't make me post a sad-looking picture next time!

http://www.toysrus.com/registry/search/index.jsp?_flowExecutionKey=_cE1FE1309-6C41-8D8B-4F1F-37105404C886_k81124790-9D66-ADE9-6812-911EF5A4A537&overrideStore=TRUS

Now that we have that covered, let me share some updates on Anya. She enjoys sleeping in a stretched-out horizontal position with her head and feet on my ribs, gets excited when I eat salsa, and is very unpatriotic. This came as a surprise to us since during the world cup we encouraged the phrase, "USA! USA!" Then Daniel started singing the national anthem to my belly, and she BOLTED away from him! As a test, he has periodically started singing it to my belly, and EVERY time, she moves as FAR away from him as possible. On the other hand, if anyone sings, "Follow the Prophet," she goes nuts trying to break out to play with them.  She also enjoys mooning Mommy, which is another issue we'll need to work on when she's actually here. When she wants me to lie down, lots of movement happens in my back, and there is a large mass protruding from my belly. We therefore have to come to the conclusion that she sticks her butt out and beats up my kidneys.

One thing I have to be thankful for is the fact that I'm having a girl. Normally, I wouldn't have a preference, but we were watching AFV, and a little boy went into detail about how he peed in his own eye. That's definitely one thing I'm thankful we won't have to deal with with our daughter.

Pregnancy Brain/Extreme Hormone Moments

1. The other day, I had the car, so I picked up Daniel from work. The whole time I was driving to Midvale, I was thinking of this HUGELY important thing I needed to tell him, (which, with my pregnancy hormones as crazy as they are, could've been something as simple as seeing a seagull in a parking lot...) and when he got in the car, I said, "Daniel! Oh my gosh! I have something to tell you!" after a 56 second pause, he asked, "what did you need to tell me?" to which I replied, "I have no idea. Something about a moving truck, maybe?" I honestly still can't remember what it was. 
2. I've started talking in my sleep. I made Daniel laugh the other morning as he got ready for work. He came into the bedroom, I sat bold upright, looked at him and said, "Aww! Honey! Thank you for not being a troll!" I then laid back down and went back to sleep. I do remember a dream about trolls, anyway...
3. I'll get the fixings for sandwiches out, put peanut butter on a slice of bread, and then go watch T.V. A little while later, I'll start looking for my sandwich, wondering where I put it and why I haven't eaten it yet. When I find the half-done sandwich in the kitchen, I finish making it, grab a glass of milk, and take the milk with me back to the couch, leaving the sandwich by itself on the counter. Eventually, I do get the sandwich.
4. Earlier tonight, I was talking to Daniel about how I feel lonely sometimes, so he made up a story about a blue blade of grass who wanted friends, just to realized that all of the green blades of grass had been his friends all along. When he mentioned the blue blade of grass, I started to cry. I told Daniel I wanted to befriend the poor blue blade and hug the blue blade. Yes, I realized this was a fictional piece of grass. Yes, I still wanted to be its friend.

Baby Name Part 2

After some discussion, we realized that "Anya" has been our daughter's name since before she was even conceived. In fact, it has been her name since before we found out I'm not supposed to be able to have children. Thinking about possibly having a daughter named Anya helped me heal through a very painful time in my life It's also partially a tribute to a wonderful Russian individual who deeply touched my life as a child. Daniel's input on her name is that her name is Anya. He doesn't analyze "why" like I do, but it's important to him to have her name be Anya. While Sofia is a wonderful name, our Anya has always been Anya, and to change her name would be silly of us.

We'd like to see the results of the poll for fun, so feel free to keep up with it!

Baby Name!

We were pretty much set on the name "Anya," but then one of us mentioned the name "Sofia." Now we don't know what to call our little sweetie. Therefore, we are doing a poll to see which one gets more results.

Lost

Can someone explain the series finale to me? I'm so confused!!

Never Want To Be Pregnant Again.

Alright, so the title to this is mostly just me complaining, but I seriously feel bulky, splotchy, in a constant state of hunger, and my child has decided that sleep is for losers. Of course, that means Mommy has to be cool too, so whenever I lie down to sleep, she freaks out until I either sit up or roll into this not-so-comfortable position in which I'm pretty much sleeping on top of Daniel. If he moves, I wake up and a cute little lady remembers that it's uncool to sleep, so we start this cycle all over again. We have discovered that if Daniel rests his arm/hand on my belly and talks, she calms right down. If he doesn't talk, she gets excited and tries to show Daddy her cool tricks. (Side note: if I rest my hand on her, she proceeds to throw herself into my bladder until my hand goes away and I go to the bathroom. She is therefore affectionately called my "little punk.")

At least I can take comfort in knowing that as uncomfortable as I am becoming, Yanni seems totally happy in her water bed. Her growth and development isn't about average; it's right on average. At our 18 week ultrasound, the doctor and ultrasound technician were surprised when Yanni's growth was EXACTLY the average numbers for a baby her age. Her heartbeat is pretty stable at 150 bpm (seeing as how she NEVER stops moving...the only time the doctor has measured her heart rate while she wasn't moving, her heart rate was 130 bpm, which the doctor said is within the normal range. Then Anya again remembered her no-sleep rule, as my internal organs found out, and her heart rate went back up.)

On a less me-trying-to-be-funny-so-people-like-me note, I'd like to share an experience we had today. During Sacrament meeting, I started feeling all crampy and yucky. I knew I needed to go home, but I wanted to finish Sacrament Meeting and get with the Primary President to tell her I was headed home since I was supposed to conduct Primary today. All of a sudden, I got extremely dizzy, and realized that I was blacking out. I don't remember much about this part, except telling Daniel that I couldn't see and asking him to take me home. He later told me that as he held my hand, I started shaking and seemed to involuntarily be clenching and unclenching his hand. I remember pretty much falling into his chest and not being able to pick myself up for a moment or two. After he was confident that I could walk by myself, we got up and proceeded to leave. I almost fell while leaving the chapel, so he half-carried me out of the building and to the car. The fresh air helped quite a bit, and I was soon able to see clearly and walk by myself.

When we got home, we called the Dr's office from the car. The urgent-care person paged the on call doctor for the clinic, so we waited for him to call back. We didn't feel the need to zoom to the ER right then, so we went inside and Daniel made me all sorts of protein-packed foods and had me drink lots of fluids. I knew I should have been worried, but I really wasn't. Anya was busy playing like crazy, so I figured she was just fine. I asked Daniel to give me a blessing, and I'm so thankful that he is always ready and willing to exercise the priesthood. The blessing he gave offered me comfort, and promised that Anya would be carried to term, as long as I am taking care of my basic physical needs. The spirit also encouraged him to address other concerns I've been having about being a mother, but wasn't even thinking about right then.

Later on, the doctor called back, and since I hadn't had another episode like that since church, and since I didn't hit my head or belly when I blacked out, he said that I should lie low for a while, drink fluids, blah blah blah, and if I started feeling worse, to go to the ER.  Aside from feeling exhausted, I haven't felt dizzy or crampy like I did, so I've been taking it easy for the day.

Here's a chance for me to be vain and honest. I am gorgeous, so I scored well with appearances with my body, but health-wise, I've never really been above par. I'm like a shiny car with a crappy engine. As I think about Yanni's very existence, I have no doubt in my mind that the Spirit is keeping my body strong enough to endure this pregnancy and do the things required of me. My first trimester, I lost so much weight from being so sick, yet somehow I always had enough energy to go to my classes. That's not to say it was easy, but somehow possible. When I wasn't in classes, I was so sick that I could hardly take care of myself. As my pregnancy has progressed, I've gotten over morning sickness, but have struggled with how small my stomach has become. In not being able to eat as much as I want, I've been totally exhausted. I tried going off of my anti-depressants, but I got to a point where I was so depressed that I literally could not eat or sleep. My doctor is fine with the prescription I'm on, and said that in her experience, babies whose moms took anti-depressants (specifically, the one I'm on) during pregnancy were more fussy, but overall as healthy as any other baby.

Contrary to how all of this may sound, I'm not trying to complain. I want to express how the  Lord really has strengthened my body in order to keep Anya safe and healthy. Anya shouldn't exist in the first place, and there was a good chance that my body would have rejected her early on in the pregnancy. I've read that women with PCOS have a 40% chance of NOT miscarrying babies. With a certain medication I was on, the chance of miscarriage was lessened by 30%. There was still a 30% chance my body wouldn't have responded well to her, and would have not continued with the pregnancy at all. I believe that without the Lord's influence and protection, I wouldn't be writing this right now. I'd be writing about my bitterness of soul instead.

I'm thankful that I have Daniel who is so sweet and understanding. Since I've been feeling continuously exhausted and just not well, my house is a mess. He has NEVER made me feel like it's my fault. He has NEVER made me feel lazy or incompetent because of the mess. When I apologize for not doing anything, he'll sweetly rub my belly and say that I am doing something. He'll do the dishes in the morning before I wake up, and totally takes over the laundry even without being asked. He's quick to get me whatever I need when I'm not feeling well, and never complains about any of it. (except for the stupid pan that refuses to be clean, but I frequently complain about that as well.) I'm also thankful for my doctor who also has fertility issues, and is so amazing and understanding as to how I feel. I'm also thankful for my ward members, who when they saw me leave today so sick, were quick to call me after church to make sure I was okay. (Everyone saw me stumble out. So embarassing...but at least I feel loved.)

I started feeling woozy half-way through this, so I hope I got my main message across. If all of this is relentless babble, I apologize, and will try to re-post this in non-Stephanie-babble.