Wednesday, February 29, 2012

On Infertility: The IVF Process Part VI

While I'm traveling Down Under I thought I'd post some excerpts from my IVF Journal. At this point, you're wondering how many parts are there?! I'm long-winded, you should know that. But we're almost to the good part, I promise. It's been super scary to put these things out in the open, so thank you for allowing me this reflection.
Getting Back to Reality 4/14/2011

The initial shock is beginning to wear off and I'm finally starting to see beyond this little bump in the road. We can never understand why this seems impossible and out of reach, but I know Heavenly Father has a plan for our family. As tough as this reality has been, there have also been moments of understanding and tender mercies the last few days. Brad and I are really leaning on one another and this will ultimately bring us closer together. I've been promised in a blessing that this will open doors that otherwise may not have opened. So there is hope still! In the meantime I'm letting it go, learning to accept, and looking forward to the next time. Because I am not done fighting for this.

Reeling 4/15/2011

I feel sick in my stomach. Like there is a strong pain right where my babies are supposed to be. My body can feel that something is missing. My mind is holding on to something that was never there. My heart is still breaking. Again and again. Over and over. And all I want to do is throw up.
Close your eyes / Clear your heart / Let it go

 

Monday, February 27, 2012

On Infertility: The IVF Process Part V

While traveling Down Under I thought I'd post some excerpts from my IVF Journal. Spoiler: this is the Womp Womp part. Note: I reference my therapist several times in this post. I feel very fortunate to have had access to the world's best therapist (imo) during this and other challenges and find this method of dealing with life highly successful for me.
D-Day 4/12/2011

I woke up at 3:30 am and couldn’t fall back asleep. I’m actually surprised I made it that far into the night. Recently I’ve found myself laying awake at night and wishing for all the things in my heart while Brad snoozes next to me. Today we would find out the results of a blood draw pregnancy test. I’ve resisted using a home pregnancy test because I don’t want to have mixed results. We’ve been counting down this day by the number of sleeps we have left. Three sleeps, 2 sleeps, now none. Today is the day. Finally my alarm went off and Brad started to stir. He made us breakfast, eggs in toast, while I blow-dried my hair with shaky hands. In the elevator he asked me if I thought I was pregnant. I said, YES! He answered, ME TOO. He thinks it’s awesome to kiss in the elevator and I’m always panicked we’ll get caught. This morning I didn’t mind at all. 

The blood draw was really quick. The phlebotomist came in, pricked my arm, and we were done in 2 minutes tops. He said someone from the clinic would call in a few hours after the results come back. After all this, we still have to wait?! Brad dropped me off at my office and I stared at my phone until he picked me up again at lunch time. We were on our way to meet with my therapist when the nurse finally called with the bad news. 

My heart shattered into a million pieces. We sat in the parking lot for several minutes letting it sink in. This is not at all how I practiced this moment in my head. We were not prepared for this. We were prepared for anything but this.

Today I could hardly find words to express my feelings. I wanted to call the clinic back and make sure they had called the right person. I didn’t know how to act or what to say. I could only cry. I didn’t know how to comfort Brad. I didn’t want to go back to work or have to tell anyone bad news. I didn’t want to face this. I wanted to disappear and pretend that it never happened, that we were never that excited, that we were never that vulnerable. I wanted to wake up from this bad dream and be on the elevator again this morning in love with the idea of a baby. I wanted to actually be pregnant.

On our way home Brad stopped at the grocery store to pick up Cadbury Mini Eggs. He came out with 5 giant bags and I let out a little smile. I know this man would do anything to make this better for me. We pulled through the drive-through at Wendy’s, and I thought, maybe I’ll get food poisoning and die from spicy chicken nuggets. That would be better than this. Brad crawled in bed with me and together we cried. I could hardly look at his face. He was just as hurt as I was, and I felt helpless in consoling him. The bruises on my hips from the progesterone shots now felt bigger and more painful than ever before. Now that they aren’t there for a purpose, they are just there to hurt me. They amplified the pain I was feeling all over my body.

So many thoughts spun through my head like a whirlwind of anger, disbelief, shock, grief, all of it shredding the peace I had carried with me for so many months. I started tallying a list of questions that did not even make sense to me, and that no one would ever be able to answer. I knew it was a fruitless waste of energy but I could do nothing but continue to ask why. Self-doubt crept into my bloodstream and forced my racing heart to pound harder. I’m fighting feelings of inadequacy. I prayed for the Spirit not to abandon me even though I felt that it should. 

I dreaded having to tell people. Brad kindly called Kim and asked her to call my few friends in the ward with our news. It broke my heart to hear him crying on the phone in the other room but I was thankful he would do this for me. I knew people were waiting to hear. People had been fasting and praying for us. People had been expecting a happy phone call today. I didn’t feel much like talking to anyone. Let alone bringing anyone into my world of heartbreak and misery. I watched the clock on my bedroom wall and gave myself phony deadlines. In 20 minutes I’ll get up and do something. At 5:15 I’ll get over this and move on. At 6:00 I’ll call my therapist. The time passed and I drifted in and out of sleepy cries.  I am m i s e r a b l e. 
Eventually I came out to the living room and watched Pride and Prejudice which had been saved on my DVR since the weekend. It was a great distraction. Tom called and for some reason I answered it. He was sorry for us and had been fully ready and expecting to be an uncle again! He asked me “so is that money just…gone?” Yes. Yes it is all the way gone. I made a joke about it and how our kids are coming into this world with a pretty hefty tab to pay off.  All of a sudden I felt the financial burden and all the miracles that had transpired to allow us to do this. It all felt wasted. Tom made a joke that next time he and Todd will not pray for us, because obviously their prayers were not working. I didn’t even know he prayed!!

I got in touch with my therapist and needed to talk more. I said a lot of things, some of which I could tell didn’t make any sense coming out of my mouth. Nevertheless she made me feel understood, calm, and loved. She encouraged me to get a blessing and even though I was a complete mess I knew it would help me sleep. I was thankful that Chris would get out of bed late at night and help Brad minister to me. Brad’s blessing must have been wonderful. I don’t remember anything he said though. I just remember feeling some amount of peace return to my body. I went to bed and tried to imagine myself sitting on Heavenly Father’s lap with his arms around me. I need to just keep looking up.

4.12.2011 Just before our pregnancy test, we look so hopeful (and clueless!)

On Infertility: The IVF Process Part IV

While I'm traveling Down Under I thought I'd post some excerpts from my IVF Journal. Even at this early stage, it was irresistible not to think I was already experiencing every pregnancy symptom know to woman. Isn't it funny how that happens? I remember those two weeks being every so excruciating. It's like waiting for Christmas, only 1 million times worse. You know what I mean ;). The results either way would change me forever. 

The Waiting Game 4/7/11
  
Our pregnancy test is scheduled for Tuesday, which is still 5 days from now. It feels like torture. It might as well be 10 light years away. I’m at work and I can see the projects piling up on my desk like little evil minions pulling me in every other direction. But my mind is somewhere else completely. My mind is daydreaming. Nothing seems more important. We are so close. I try very hard to not let my mind wander to worrying places. 

“Worrying doesn’t delete tomorrow of its challenges, it only drains today of its strength.” 

I say, I don’t have time for you, worries; I have much better things to think about. Like whether or not I’ll get morning sickness or be able to see my toes soon or how long I am able to hide a baby bump from coworkers. It’s rainy today and every so often the thunder booms and I turn around in my chair to peer outside my big office window. I have a beautiful view from my office. But I’m hoping for a new one that can blink back at me. I have a song in my heart today, it has no words, but I’m tapping my foot and humming right along.

Saturday, February 25, 2012

On Infertility: The IVF Process Part III

While I'm traveling Down Under I thought I'd post some excerpts from my IVF Journal. For such an impersonal, clinical process IVF can be from start to finish, I was completely taken back at how personal and spiritual the embryo transfer would be. Believe me when I say it was so cool. I cannot read this without feeling loved.
Embryo Transfer 3/31/11 Continued...

Except, that we were not alone in that room. I felt surrounded by love in every direction. Brad kissed me softly and told me he loved me more than anything in this world. Tears soaked our faces and since Brad couldn’t find a tissue he used the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe the puddles from my eyes. I felt an intense love for him, the angels that surrounded us, my God, and of course for our babies. I want them both so badly. The desire to be a mother has never been stronger than in that moment. I’ve always said that I wanted one child at a time. But after seeing both of our real live embryos, I want nothing more than to have both of them right now. I knew I would do anything possible so that both of those embryos could realize their full potential and gain a body. I wasn’t expecting such a beautiful spiritual experience that day, but that’s exactly what it turned out to be. I felt unbelievably blessed to have made it this far. 

I’m not even joking; an acoustic version of Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” came on over the speakers and played softly in the background. We couldn’t help but giggle through our sobs.

During those 30 minutes Brad snuggled his face right close to mine. We talked and gushed and sang praises about our little embryos, convincing them to come to our family. We’ll pay for your college! We’ll take you to Disneyland! Once a year you can even have marshmallow cereal! Unintentionally we started listing back and forth all of the things we wanted to show and teach our children, such as rainbows, and roly polys, park swings, zoo animals, science experiments, camping in Yellowstone and even how to ride a bike, read picture books, tie their big kid shoes, pray every day, bake cookies, and cakes and muffins too.  These thoughts made our hopeful hearts eager to become parents.
Eventually the nurse came back in and gave us some instructions. We are to come back in 12 days for a pregnancy test. I should act as though I’m pregnant, avoiding foods and activities that I would avoid during pregnancy. Continue with the progesterone shots daily (ouch!). I got dressed, but because the Valium had really kicked in, I required a bit of assistance with those tricky pant legs. The nurse wheeled me out to the car and Brad and I were home in no time. Again, I rested for many hours in a deep peaceful sleep (Valium is a yummy happy drug!). My heart must have been exhausted from simply feeling that abundant love. 

For the first time during our whole infertility process I was grateful for all of it. I was grateful for these moments that I might never have had. I was grateful for the chance to see and feel and experience everything I had that day. It has changed me in ways I don’t even know yet. Without question, I would do it all over again.

I carried that little picture of our two embryos around with me to every room in the house for days. It gives me strength and hope for whatever is ahead. 


Our first glimpse at the surviving embryos; cutest embryos we had ever hoped to see! I was so proud they were mine.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

On Infertility: The IVF Process Part II

While I'm traveling Down Under I thought I'd post some excerpts from my IVF Journal. It's a little surreal, even for me, to look back and re-read some of my thoughts and feelings from this time. I remember being incredibly scared and vulnerable during this process and it's comforting to know now that with each life experience we can come out of it a better, more empathetic human. 
Embryo Transfer 3/31/11

I’ve been anxious for this day. Sweaty palms, racing heart excited.  It’s been 5 days since the retrieval and I’m so hopeful that this will work. We haven’t been updated about our embryos since Monday. I still don’t exactly know what to expect physically, but I’ve scheduled to take Thursday and Friday off work as the Doctor strongly suggested lying low. It’s also Conference Weekend, which is a perfect excuse to not do much at all. Our transfer appointment was scheduled for 10:00 am Thursday morning. Brad gave me a blessing just before we left which helped to calm my worrying soul. Tom and Todd are here staying with us this week and gave us big hugs and good lucks as we left. 

The clinic is becoming so familiar these days; the stairs, the smells, the weary smile of the receptionist. We were taken immediately to the Transfer Room and the nurse gave us some brief instructions. I followed them, undressed, and got situated on the chair to wait. Dr. P didn’t come in for what seemed like a really long time. It was making me more nervous and Brad tried his best to keep my mind from wandering too far. We talked and he held my hand. 

When the Dr. finally came in, he was bright and smiley which put me at ease. He knows this is a big day for us. He handed me a small black folder with a black and white picture of two round masses of cells on the inside. “Here are your babies!” he exclaimed. I choked up immediately. He then further explained the status of our 6 fertilized eggs. Ultimately we had only 2 high quality embryos to work with. He summarized our options and left the room for us to have a family counsel and make a decision. As he left we both welled up with tears over the picture of our two embryos. I was surprisingly awe-struck to see them! I was looking at the very beginnings of what could become actual human life, my children, my future. All of the hope and stress of the past 6 years seemed to well up in that moment. Immediately I recognized the feeling. I loved them. Our decision came quickly, we wanted to transfer both strong embryos. We felt it was the best thing to do. I was filled with so much joy and couldn’t stop staring at that little black and white picture with our two babies on it. My heart aches to know them.

When Dr. P came back we told him our decision and he agreed that it was the best way forward. With his support we were all ready to move ahead. The excitement was literally boiling over in my body. I tried to act calm. The Dr. gave me some Valium, not for any pain he said, but because he wants to be absolutely certain that I stay down today. No driving, no cleaning, no working, no nothing. Calmness was on the way. The nurse came in and together they continued to prep the room for the transfer, eventually opening the door to the lab where our babies were being safely kept. The Dr. used an ultrasound machine to find my uterus, which according to him was standing perfectly straight up and right where he wanted it. I resisted the urge to pat my stomach and congratulate my uterus; GOOD UTERUS! With the ultrasound paddle the nurse kept hold of the position on my uterus while the Dr. readied a path for the embryos. The Dr. said something funny and I belly laughed which caused the nurse to lose my uterus on the screen. Ok, no more laughing. I tried to be good and still. I tried to focus only on the sweet spirit that filled the room.

The embryologist gave the Dr. some pink liquid called media to wash my cervix and uterus. The media contains a simple sugar that the embryos will need to survive. Please put lots in! Next we were ready for the embryo transfer. The Dr. told us to watch the screen on the back wall. From the other room the embryologist placed a dish under a lens so we could see the embryos. Then he used a tiny pipette to gently suck them in the transfer tube. A few seconds later he was back in the room handing our babies to the Dr. who then placed them directly inside my uterus. It was amazing! Tears unexpectedly flowed down my cheeks. We were done. The Dr. congratulated us, we are “technically” pregnant and conception has taken place he said. After removing all the “gear” from inside me the Dr. shook our hands and said that he would be praying for our success. It’s out of our hands now. The nurse helped me lay flat, positioned some pillows under me and wrapped my body in warm white blankets. They turned down the lights and left us alone to relax in the room for about 30 minutes.

...to be continued... 

3.31.2011 Transfer day; We were both a ball of nerves...

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

On Infertility: The IVF Process Part I

Have you ever known anyone who has gone through IVF? In late 2010 when we made a decision with our doctor to move forward with IVF as our next best infertility treatment, I was largely unaware of what to expect. While I'm traveling Down Under I thought I'd post some excerpts from my IVF Journal. The process was nothing like what we thought, but ultimately we achieved our goal and are beyond grateful for this experience. 
Egg Retrieval 3/26/2011 
After weeks of hormone injections and ultrasounds my eggs were finally ready to be “harvested.” It’s funny, the words you will use relating the infertility process. Words like Hamster Egg Penetration. Hungry? Anyway, we are hoping the Easter Bunny comes early this year. The egg retrieval was scheduled for Saturday March 26th at 7:30 am. Brad and I were very much excited. Seems we’ve talked about nothing else for weeks. Brad has been giving my ovaries little pep talks every night before bed. Sometimes they make me laugh, and sometimes they make me a bit weepy. He has been very sweet to give me lots of hugs, lots of kisses, lots of love. (And also lots of patience; bless his sweetheart soul). We’ve grown closer together in indescribable ways. Very few people knew we were at this stage of IVF. We chose to keep it quiet and somewhat private. 
A potential pregnancy was becoming more of a reality than ever before. Strangely, I was completely at peace. I felt ready and calm. But mostly just ready for the next phase of life. Brad gave me a blessing the night before which was tender and reassuring. I knew it was in the Lord’s hands and that we were being guided ever so gently. Everything felt right. Saturday morning at the house felt like Christmas morning, only better, and we were giddy as could be. LET’S GO MAKE A BABY! I could hardly stand it. I couldn’t believe we had made it this far. We are so close. At the clinic I undressed as instructed and Brad helped me into a hospital gown. A cool sensation flooded my left arm as the nurse started an IV. She needed to remind me to keep breathing, big deep breaths. The Dr. came in and poured over my chart once again, gave us an opportunity to ask questions and then sign something, who even knows what at this point. Probably along the lines of if I die today, it’s not his fault.
We moved to the retrieval room and the nurse situated me in a giant chair with stirrups. I’ve seen so many stirrups these past 5 years. I am the Stirrup Queen. Brad kissed me good luck and was whisked away to do his part. It does take two to make a baby, you know. It’s easy to forget that because all the focus so far has been on me and my body. The nurse said I would start to feel woozy, and I did. I remember hearing Dr. H’s voice and feeling some strong, uncomfortable pressure down below, but really, nothing else. In what seemed like 10 seconds, Brad was hovering over me attempting to awaken his sleeping beauty. I was having none of that and continued to doze for nearly an hour. Although I do remember hearing him say “you did so good, hun.”
When I finally began to stir Brad was there with smiles and apple juice. I could barely find the muscle strength to put my lips around the straw let alone suck and swallow. Apparently I was a bit delirious. I told the nurse that I loooooove the stirrrrrrrrrups, asked her if I had to go to church on Sunday, and thanked her repeatedly for being so so so so nice. I got the giggles - bad - while Brad was helping me get dressed. Everything was extraordinarily funny. My socks? Hilarious. Standing up? Hilarious. Anything Brad said? Super. Duper. Funny. Dare I say I thoroughly enjoyed that medicinal cocktail? 
We were at home by 9:30 am and Brad tucked me straight into bed where I was dead to the world for another 4 hours. Truly, that was the best sleep I’ve ever had. When I woke up I called for Brad and he helped me to the bathroom and then the living room couch, because I wanted to be near him. I was ready to be awake and I could actually think clearly to answer text messages coherently. I felt sore, swollen and crampy but the intense joy within me overshadowed all of that. It was a perfect weekend to lay low and watch 80’s classics such as Top Gun, Back to the Future, and Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Brad always gets teary during Top Gun and has to get up and walk around so I don’t notice. I love him. I want to have a baby with him.
Forty-eight hours later on Monday morning I received an update from the IVF lab that 13 eggs in total were retrieved, 6 were mature, and all 6 had fertilized. That was the best news! I couldn’t wait to email Brad. He was, of course, thrilled as well. After that I had a very hard time concentrating at work and couldn’t think of anything else. We are so close. Not only that, but we have 6 babies! Brad said, “That’s way more than any of our friends have!”

Not that anyone is counting ;)
10.20.2010 Our first of *many* trips to the IVF Clinic
My counter was littered with drug paraphernalia for months!

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Turning Thirty: Becoming the Real Me

I'm turning 30 this weekend. I know, right? My mom is having a private meltdown somewhere because if I'm 30, that means she is...
Thirty is a milestone year, and I think it deserves a bit of attention on this here bloggie. I have a great deal in my life to be thankful for and so much more to look forward to. Pretty much, I love being 30 already. Allow me this soliloquy...

I entered this world at a respectable 8 lbs 12 oz (thanks mom!). Shortly thereafter I intuitively learned to walk and feed myself and manipulate cookies out of older siblings. I was eventually brave enough to peel away from my mother's knee and begin kindergarten. I navigated the playground semi-successfully; got knocked down, got back up again, peed my pants during Heads-up 7-up, hated dodge ball, but secretly loved rainy days when we had to stay inside from recess and read. These are building blocks.
One endless summer I pretend-married my childhood best friend in a tree-house with a cracker jacks prize ring. I buried top secret treasures in my mother's garden intended to be found by future archeologists. I fought and played and fought with my brother. I ate endless quantities of my grandmother's tapioca pudding without guilt. I played outside everyday. Mostly barefoot. These are memories.
Somehow, some way, I survived Jr. High School. Although I did not emerge without scars. My eldest brother tolerated me enough to take me with him to Southeast Asia. It was terrifying, but that experience saved me. By my later teenage years I had started to turn into a somewhat respectable human being. Responsible. Studious (albeit not smart, per se). I gained a testimony of my Savior. I kissed a boy. I pierced my ears. I made real friends all before jumping out of the house and into University where being responsible, studious and popular only made you less than average. These are realities.
I had roommates way out of my league, a lucky good job, and drove an unfortunate old baby blue Mazda ironically named the bullet. I learned to cook on a cattle ranch. I traveled to Europe. Along the way I wrote a missionary and eventually he came home. For reasons I could not understand he was in love with me too and for once in my life I followed my heart instead of my head and said, yes. These are tender mercies. 
We were poor, but it didn't matter. Still doesn't. I finished my studies and went right to work. My first job was a complete set back, but things eventually got better and doors opened that I didn't know existed. We moved away, but not that far. He went school. Plus more school. And now works for his dad :). We fought hard to save those things in marriage worth saving, and got rid of a few others that needed letting go. Along the way a few miracles happened and soon I will become a mom to a little girl who has stolen my heart completely. This is my future.       
I'm entering a whole new decade of my life, the one that I envision will be the most difficult and yet the most rewarding. I'm 30 after all, and I fully intend to act like it. I've been thinking a lot about what it means to age gracefully and I'm fighting back the pressure to look and feel the same as I did a decade ago. Truthfully, I'm not all that sad to see my 20's go. Sure, we had good times, but I'm more than ready to move on. I've given up many things that used to pressure me, including the need to be a super cute super young superhero mom. Rather, I've embraced the notion of simply being a mom to young kids. It's a small change, but has made a big difference. So you see, the older I become, the more I realize I am becoming the real me.

 

Friday, February 17, 2012

Super long flights?

Never really ever been m'thang ;)



Wednesday, February 15, 2012

A Letter to Baby Bee: 26 weeks and growing


Dear Baby Bee,
Well, look at us now! When people ask me how far along I am in this pregnancy, I have to catch my breath before I broadcast the words six and a half months and pretend like it's no big deal. There is no question these days about whether I'm expecting: my rounding belly is clearly an indication that a little one is on the way. I've started to receive smiles and even an occasional wink from strangers at the grocery store who all seem to be saying "you go girl!" As I was standing in a waiting room lobby the other day, a very nice man piped up and asked me when I was due. In May, I beamed, rubbing one hand on my belly (because honestly what else are my hands supposed to do?). He congratulated me several times and talked wistfully of his own 5 kids, his baby now 12 years old. It goes by so fast, he said, and those years are hard but you'll find you won't trade them for anything. You know, I think he's right.

The added attention you bring sometimes makes me feel silly, sure, but all the same it's just one more indication that carrying a baby is a real honor. I feel genuinely supported about bringing you into the world from family, friends, co-workers, ward members, and even strangers no less. But none more-so than your sweet dad. In my opinion he's already won an Oscar for Best Actor in a Supporting Role. I'm prematurely nominating him for Father of the Year. You'll see.

But while we're on the topic, you and him had a special moment the other morning as he was laying his face on my belly and you seemed to be responding on queue. He would say, can you have a good day Little Bee? and you would kick! Then he would say, take care of your momma for me, and you would kick!! Then he would laugh and say, don't kick me in the face! only to get a huge round-house kick to the face :). Your timing was perfect and you filled his day with joy.

Believe it or not, we are gearing up for a big trip to Australia in just a few days, which seems to have taken precedence over painting your nursery. But don't worry, that will get done soon enough. And if your dad doesn't do it, your Aunt Jen surely will. We figure this will be the last stamp in our passports for a good long while. I'm very much looking forward to meeting long-time colleagues in the Brisbane office, but I'm more so looking forward to spending time away with your father. After this trip, our next family vacation will be with you. And it might be as exciting as driving 40 miles south to visit grandma and grandpa. But still, we will be a family of three before long. And that alone is going to be the adventure of a lifetime we've been waiting for.

Also this week, your momma is turning 30! I must say that the very best thing, by far, about turning 30 is knowing that you'll come into my life this very same year. Thirty all of a sudden doesn't seem so old and scary. I'll be experiencing many "firsts" this year, which will reset the needle for basically everything I know about life. Thirty is now this magical number that I'll always associate with this beautiful time of life when I became your mother. Which is exactly what I've always meant to be.

Love,
Momma

A Valentine's Day Post


Oh boy. How can February possibly be half way over? Between trying to keep up with the demands of a full time job and preparing for baby, I can hardly find time to think about painting my toes. That is, if my toes are still there. With this belly in the way I don't see much of those piggies these days. I'm slowly and stubbornly coming to terms that being 6.5 months pregnant does create some limitations on what I am able to accomplish. Go. Figure.
I'm constantly reminding myself that the important things will get done. Just maybe not how I'm used to. Still, everything is going to be alright. If I don't send out handmade Valentine's to all my family and friends, they will forgive me, or not even notice. And if I need to allow myself a few extra minutes of sleep in the morning and maybe pick up donuts for the office on the way into work, that's ok too. I'm finding it hard to let those things go. I'm also surprised that the nursery wasn't done 3 months ago and is nowhere near being done today. What has happened to me? Haha, sigh.
We've been working feverishly the last few Saturday's trying to fit in a trillion little errands in preparation for a business trip/vacation. I've been doing a pretty good job at over-planning, over-analyzing, and over-worrying about it. Ah, that's the me I recognize! I had ordered BD some new sneakers but low and behold they wouldn't arrive in time for Valentine's Day. Wifey fail.
Luckily, BD was all over Valentine's Day this year. I came waddling home from work yesterday, about an hour late of course, to a house smelling deliciously of garlic and cilantro and found him chopping vegetables for fajitas. Table set with fancy glasses and everything. He had found his own recipe online and was determined to make them just right. I fell in love with him just a little bit more when he asked how to chop an onion the "fajita" way. Honestly, that man. Dinner would have been more than enough, but he had big surprises for me all night. One of them being this whole blog printed into 3 volumes of books! I loved being able to flip through the pages of the last 6+ years of our life together. Plus, a new set of cooking pans that are almost too pretty to cook with. Momma and baby felt spoiled to the very core. Sometimes, he just nails it.
*We had a good chuckle about how this is our last Valentine's Day before we'll need a babysitter. And yet, we decided to stay home and cook dinner ourselves anyway ;). It's so much better that way. After dinner and clean up I gave BD a back rub and all of a sudden realized he was asleep at 9:30 pm. ASLEEP! Boy needs himself a vacation.

Thursday, February 02, 2012

Happiness is

Being told you waddle, and learning to embrace it!   ;)
(6 month bump)