My uterus is floating...and other baby news.

Baby Thomas used to like to chill right between my hips - probably because it was safe there. Hips are hard you know. It was cool to feel him growing and taking over more and more of my belly as he grew up above my belly button and headed toward the ribs. But this week it seems like something has gone wrong.

If my uterus were a helium balloon, whoever was standing on the string to keep it down between my hips where it used to live, has accidentally let the balloon go and it has floated up to the ceiling inside me....which is apparently made of my lungs and ribs.

It's not that Baby Thomas grew that big that fast, I can still feel the same small parts of his tiny bone-y self and the lower part of my abdomen has gone back to it's squishy nature, it's just that he's taken my balloon-uterus and relocated. He left the safety and security of my pelvic bones to set up camp in my ribs. Yesterday afternoon he punched straight through my lungs to the inside of my ribcage. Seriously.

If Josh were reading this (which is about the only thing I can guarantee he's NOT doing right now...or ever) he'd be dying laughing over my lack of knowledge about my own insides. "Ha ha ha." he'd laugh "you really think your uterus isn't connected to anything but a ribbon like a balloon? That it can float around your abdominal cavity at will? Do you even KNOW how many guts are in there? There's no room for floating!" he'd lecture. He'd probably get out his anatomy book and remind me of all the guts we saw at Body World so I could remember there's no room for floating.

Then he'd get started on my outlandish claim that my 14" baby can punch through my lungs to the insides of my ribcage in some crazy attempt to jump out of my chest.

Listen Josh. All I know is that I could feel him down there and now I can feel him up here. So any reasonable rational human being would conclude that he has moved from down to up. If that ain't floating, I don't know what is.

In other news his (Baby Thomas') hearing is strengthening which means that when Josh and I try to discuss if he really needs ALL THAT STUFF that Target (and every other store) thinks he needs, he can hear us. I think we'd better start spelling the words we don't want him to hear. "I bet he'll be just fine without a T-O-Y at least until he's 3...don't you think?" "I think we're ready for B-E-D but don't say it out loud or my bladder will immediately shrink."

Maybe I'm giving the kid too much credit. I doubt he's really swimming around in there like a kid trapped in a bubble choosing where he wants to set up camp for the next few days. I also doubt he has enough control over my bladder to make it shrink only at nighttime. And I bet he doesn't really breathe fire up my throat every time I lie down.

Even though these things never EVER happened until he lived in me, and even though I'm sure they'll stop when he's living out of me, and EVEN THOUGH any logical person would certainly link the strange things happening to the "parasite" growing inside me.....I'm willing to give the kid the benefit of the doubt. That's how  you know I'll be a good mom.

BUT you'd better believe that he and I are going to have a nice talk once he's coherent and capable of explaining himself. Because secretly I think he's doing at least some of this on purpose.

Mother Nature & I are like "this"

You know how summer is here and we've officially had the longest day of the year and now each day progressively gets shorter and shorter, until that blessed time of the year where snow covers the ground and one could (easily) go days without seeing the sun because it's dark when you go to work and dark when you get home?

Well, my days are getting shorter too. I would've slept until 9 this morning had I be allowed.
I would've gone to bed at 7:30 tonight had I been home.

That, my friends, sounds like a very long 13.5 hour day to me. I think I'm gonna beat Mother Nature to the blessed winter season marked by being awake only long enough to eat happy winter foods and attend a couple of parties.

Side note:

You should know that not one person in my ward has ever displayed fangs, tails, horns, OR pitchforks. It has only to do with me and my insecure self.

Or maybe they do and they just haven't shown them to me......

Anxiety

It's that time of the month. No. Not that time of them month. The time of the month when I know I'm teaching Relief Society tomorrow.

It's not like I've ever given a horrible lesson that resulted in anybody leaving the church (I hope...) or me getting excommunicated or anything. And mostly people give the lesson for me because my ward is really great like that. But none of that matters. I'm still nervous and uncomfortable.

The worst part? This feeling won't go away until I'm too distracted tomorrow afternoon to think of all the things I couldda shouldda wouldda said. Instead this feeling will get stronger and my body will only get shakier.

I read the lesson a few weeks ago. It's great. It's about temples.

I've been thinking about the lesson (and temples) for 3+ weeks.

But this week the panic has slowly been setting in. Sunday I listened to Elise teach her lesson and loved it (of course, I always do). That's when the anxiety started to descend and settle.

It starts with the comparison of me and Elise. I won't bore you with the details, but she's beautiful, and eloquent, and spiritually advanced. I'm me.

The next phase is realizing that I can't just stand there and read the lesson out of the book because that's boring. Which leads to me speaking. Outloud. In public. To public who will see me again. Soon.

Then I realize that I'm going to have to come up with something to say while I stand there in front of the class looking like....well, me.

At this point my heart starts to beat harder and my palms start to sweat and I picture everybody in my ward with vampire fangs, devil horns, and fire behind their pitchfork-holding perfect little bodies. I just know they're all waiting for me to say something stupid so they can attack me. They're waiting for me to trip over my own (trembling) feet. They're waiting for me to walk up to the front of the class with my skirt tucked into my underwear.

Starting this morning, my mind will not rest until I know I have 40 minutes of worthwhile things to say even though I've never said more than 10 minutes worth of anything....

My brain won't stop reviewing all of the embarrassing things I could tell the whole ward about me and Josh. That's a long list and it comes to me all day long.

It's Egbert's Law. Hand me a microphone and I will embarrass myself.

So, one Saturday of every month is spent locked up in my room, reading, researching and trying to write. Taking deep breathes and heavy sighs. Trying to come up with something, ANYTHING that will make this lesson worthwhile.

Tomorrow it only gets worse. I can usually sit through Sacrament Meeting OK, but Sunday School triggers the shaking, trembling, sweating, and nervous laughter. I can't carry on a normal conversation, or sit still, and by the time we're through the announcements at the beginning of Relief Society it's a good thing I have to stand at the front because if I sit in that chair one second longer, I know I will give a very educational display of spontaneous combustion.

So, farewell sane, unanxious world. Farewell to the non-crazies. I'll see you again tomorrow, but for now I join the land of the slightly psychotic and very nervous public speakers.

25 weeks

This morning I was standing in the bathroom doing my hair (just because it doesn't look done doesn't mean I didn't do ANYTHING to it this morning....I tried....sortof.) and Josh looked at me and smiled real big. “Hey! You’re pregnant!” he said. “Hey! You too!” I said. Then he stuck out his “gut” as far as he could and walked around “like a pregnant lady*”. I laughed.

Then he informed me “you’re gettin’ a tummy.” And I laughed harder because I’ve had a tummy for a good long time. Just not one with a baby in it. “You’re gettin’ one too!” I teased. Then he stuck out his “gut” as far as he could and walked around “like a pregnant lady” some more while I laughed some more.

Baby Thomas is starting to move more often – and on Sunday while I was laying on the couch staring at my belly I saw him punch.  I actually saw my stomach stick out where there was a tiny little fist punching through all those layers just to prove to me that he’s in there. It looked like something from a sci-fi movie and I guarantee Josh could have felt it if he was with me. But he wasn’t, and he still hasn’t felt him move.

The thing about 25 weeks is that it’s a really big deal. 40 minus 25 is 15. 15 is significantly less than 25, even if you subtract the first 5 weeks when you didn’t know you were pregnant. The point? You’re way past halfway. You’re downhill. And usually when you start going down a hill the closer you get to the bottom the faster you start to move.  Simple laws of physics tell me then that this baby is gonna be here before I know it.

Also, at this point if you count calendar months, we’re down to just 3 left (August, September, October). That’s only 6 paychecks. 3 Fast Sundays. 3 “don’t come back for 5-7 days!”’s. Probably 3 trips to the grocery store (Yes. I am that bad. Don’t judge me.)  3 more paymentnet deadlines, mortgage payments, and rounds of all the bills.

This week his hair has texture and color. I wonder what color it is? Will he have lots of dark hair? Will he be bald?  He’s getting fatter instead of longer now which adds to the “baby” look instead of the “freaky alien child” look. I wonder if he’ll look as creepy as the internet says he will. Or if he’ll be as cute as my nephews always are.

One thing is for sure - the farther along we get in this pregnancy the more excited I get to meet the little guy. 

Today I started to realize that I'm actually having a baby. With such a long wait, and with so many failed attempts, I still have a hard time recognizing that this is real. That in 3 short months I'll be holding this beautiful tiny baby in my arms. Feeling him move around in there makes it more real, and so does the fact that I look like and walk like a pregnant lady.

*I’m pretty sure it’s a bad thing that Josh’s imitation of “walking around like a pregnant lady” looks so much like a waddle already….but it does. I bought maternity clothes and immediately started to waddle. I can’t help it, walking normal would probably take WAY too much effort, but I wouldn’t know, I haven’t tried…. 

Vain repetitions

On Saturday night I prayed that as I prepared for Sunday I could have my mind and heart open to the things I needed to do in my life to receive further inspiration.

Pete Green bore his testimony about temples and how important they are. He talked about how blessed we are to have them so close and how much power is there in that building. He reminded me that it’s been entirely too long since I did a session there and that I belong there.

In Relief Society we talked about setting goals and “creating something beautiful”. I remembered (again) about going to the temple and how I can and should do it much more often. Then I set a goal to go 4 times this month and not to let little excuses stop me. I even wrote it on my yellow note-card AND my planner so I couldn’t weasel out of it. (Then I remembered that SL Temple is closed for 2 weeks….bah! Little excuses don’t count.)

After church I was reading next week’s lesson in RS (only because I’m teaching…don’t get all impressed with my ability to keep up with the lessons, I’m not that cool) all about temples and read again about the power there and how "we need a temple more than anything".

Mid-nap I remembered my cousin’s commentary on the “where to live” decision she was making in her life:

“Last week we made lists of pros and cons of both places to live. Monday we made the decision and went to the temple to think about it. We felt good about it and on Tuesday looked for apartments. Wednesday we signed the lease. Thursday we packed up the moving truck and Friday we moved.”

Bottom line? Although “keep my mind and heart open so I can understand the things I need to do” is a standard line in my prayers and I didn’t particularly think about it that night (that’s pretty much the textbook definitely of vain repetitions right?), he heard and answered me anyway.

For that I am truly thankful.

The nose.

I'm not sure why I thought I'd even come close to approaching the end of the list of things to worry about with Baby Thomas's arrival, but for some reason I did. I thought I'd exhausted my ability to be concerned for his well being and I thought I'd worried about every horrible thing that could possibly happen to my child.

Fortunately my mom is around to remind me of the things I've forgotten about.

This weekend while sitting around talking, she started wondering outloud about what Baby Thomas and Baby Taege, (spelling on that guys?) my brother's baby, will look like. It was all fun and games until she started to wonder "whose nose he will get?" 

I looked at Josh, and looked at me (in my head...) and started to panic. 

You know I'm all about the compromise but if he gets the round of my nose, on the tip of the point of Josh's nose....well that's worse than lose-lose.

Allow me to illustrate.

This is what Josh & I look like - please note the very different nose shapes.

I'm just a little concerned that our baby might turn out like this:

My mom said they'd love him anyway - plus it would be easy to name him.....

Secretly I hope the internet is smarter than my mom on this one (pffftttt....like that is even possible). Because this isn't nearly as bad.

Plus Thomas is a much cuter name than Cyrano, don't you think?

Fireworks?

Honestly Josh and I have never "been to" the fireworks together. It seems like we're always driving home from somewhere and see some from the freeway as we drive but we never get to see a whole show, or be close enough to feel the "boom".

This year was gonna be better.

This year we'd spending the evening staring up at the beautiful sky smelling the fire, feeling the "boom" from being close by, and oohing and awwwing and guessing which color the next one would be.

Eh, it was a nice thought anyway....

Friday night there were fireworks going on all over the place. We were home. We had no plans. We could have gone. BUT after spending the day Redboxing, driving to Heber, cleaning, more driving, more Redboxing, and shopping for maternity clothes, we were both wiped out. When we walked in the door at 6:00 and felt the AC blowing, Josh walked straight to the bed to lay down.

By the time I asked "do you wanna....." 30 seconds later, he was dead asleep. Not fast asleep (which you can wake up from) but DEAD asleep. I couldn't get a response from him for anything. I probably could have screamed that the house was on fire and he wouldn't have moved. So, it's a good thing the house wasn't on fire, or we would've been in trouble.

Finally (after about 10 minutes....what can I say? I don't give up easy.) I joined him and neither of us even moved until 4am.

We headed to Logan to spend the 4th with my mom's family, we tossed a frisbee around, ate good food, and my mom even performed the Wide Mouthed Frog.

This picture is posted for 1 reason only. This is my "maternity outfit" debut. I've been wearing maternity shirts, but not pants, until this weekend.
All I can say is: I'm converted. It might be worth being pregnant every other year for eternity if it means I get to wear maternity pants more often than not....

Nate & Wendy humored us with a few games of Hand & Foot before we headed back home for more Redboxing.

We just had to run by the McDonald's in Fort Union for a quick fix of a machine. We'd only be there for about 5 minutes, which would leave us time to hit the grocery store and a fireworks stand on our way home and light some stuff in the street when we got there. We were excited that it was only 8:30 as we pulled into the McDonald's.

3 1/2 hours later as we pulled away from the McDonald's we were less excited.

Turns out "5 minute fix" turned into a dead motor, an incompetent phone technician/programmer and poor Josh who couldn't get rid of either one. It just happened to be 1 of the 2 parts he'd never replaced before and the technician walking him through it on the phone wouldn't admit that she had no clue either. She wouldn't let him hang up, and she tried to talk him through the programming part of the process until midnight.

He had done his part, but just didn't know which setting the machine needed and couldn't finish the job without her.

So, another 4th of July has come and gone and we have yet to watch a real fireworks show or light our own together.

Honestly it's not my favorite holiday anyway, so I'm not feeling so bad about it. Except Josh was so excited to blow stuff up, and now...well it'll have to wait 20 more days at least. We'll see how that holiday weekend goes.

One thing I love about Heber

One thing I love about Heber is Granny's.

Iceberg doesn't even compare to Granny's thick shakes.

Things that grow

Someone once told us that "rich people invest their time/money in things that grow even after hours and during holidays". Then he talked about putting your money where you can earn interest instead of paying it even on Holidays, planting a garden, and raising kids. Josh desperately wants to be rich, so he listened to that guy. We have a CD, a money market account, a growing baby, and this year a bucket-garden.

Last year we were garden-less and even though we gladly mooched from our parents, this year we decided to be grown ups and plant out own garden.

Only we don't have a yard.

So we are experimenting with a "bucket garden".

This is a beautiful piece of our squash bucket. I love it when vegetables flower!

This is the squash-bucket in all it's glory. Yes there are some sad droopy leaves....but overall I think it's doing pretty well...what do you think?

And our champion tomato plant (which is now threatening to take over my pretty little strawberry basket....)

I just love what plants looks like as they're starting new sprouts. I love how bright green the new parts are, and how they're all tiny and squished up waiting for the right moment to lay out their beautiful leaves.

Here's hoping we get some good fruit from our labors (I love fresh tomatoes and yes mom even zucchini). Not that we've put a lot of work into the bucket-garden, but we do water them daily (because they get burned if we don't) and we try to take good care of them. Fortunately bucket-gardens don't come with many weeds - this enhances the gardening experience ten-fold if you ask me. 

Memories: Book It!

While we were in Montana we ate at Pizza Hut for lunch one day and as we walked up I could smell Elementary School.

Before you get all excited that my Elementary School served Pizza Hut for lunch you should know that it had nothing to do with school and everything to do with my BookIt button. Also you should know that only the Pizza Hut building has that smell – it’s not the same if the pizza just shows up at your door.

I don’t remember the details of the program, just that if we read a certain amount (minutes? Books? Pages?) we earned a hardcore plastic sticker. Which was made out of the same stuff as stick-on earrings…..not that I used my BookIt stickers as earrings or anything….geez, just how big a dork do you think I am? We could put the sticker on our super-sweet BookIt button and wear it around so people knew how cool we were. Not that I wore my BookIt button on my backpack every single year because I thought it was cool….just how big a dork do you think I am?  And once we earned enough stickers we got a Free Personal Pan Pizza from Pizza Hut! Say “personal pan pizza from pizza hut” 10 times fast.

You should know that it was really free. Not “Free*”

My mom faithfully took us to get our Free (not “free*”) pizzas every single time we earned them.  She is cool like that.

Usually the 15 minute drive to the nearest Pizza Hut (WAY down by Macey’s in Orem) also included a trip to the small pet store that was part of the same strip mall. I hate the smell of that pet store. I hate it with a firey passion.  I hate the birds (and vaguely remember a story of a kid that was eaten bitten by some horribly large bird) because they are often loose in the store and that freaks me out. A lot.

I think my little brother liked the pet store and always wanted to stay there longer than I did.  I still hate Pet Stores because of the smell.

BookIt gave me every single one of my “store-bought-pizza” experiences until I was like 17 at which point my friends FORCED me to pick up the phone and order pizza for the first time in my life. I was fairly certain the cops were going to come and take me to jail because I thought you had to be at least 18 to order pizza over the phone.

I didn’t do it again until my roommate worked at Papa John’s and assured me it was legal for me to order pizza and stuck the phone up to my ear again forcing me to overcome my fear of ordering pizza.

I honestly think I didn’t know people really ordered pizza from those places until I became “people” and went through my “Friday is pizza night!” phase with Josh.  My empty bank account taught me the same thing my mom did when I was young.

Pizza tastes better homemade.

Still a Pizza Hut building smells like books to me.

and then I cried......again

Remember when Jamie & Cameron moved? Remember how we did everything together? Baby blessings. Baby births. Pumpkin carving. Cards and games. Barbecues. Camping. And a million other things I never bothered to blog.

There aren't really words to express exactly how I feel about Jamie. When they moved I was fairly certain my life was over because I'd never successfully lived as a grown-up without her. What if I was only capable of it because she was right there with me in every big step? What if she left and I shriveled up and died? What if I never left my house and became unsocial crazy plant lady - wait....that might have happened......

I knew it was going to be a good evening when I stopped at the mailbox (with my ginormous slurpee in hand) and saw this beauty sitting there.

That's when I started to cry - because I miss Jamie. I miss her handwriting on my whiteboard. I miss doing things with her, I miss calling on a Sunday and saying "we have extra potatoes, wanna come over?" and her saying "heck yes I do!". I miss her knowing everything there is to know. I miss her helping me want to be a better person. I miss doing mom things with her because I don't have a baby of my own. I miss Cameron and Josh taking turns doing flips onto the love sac. I miss making cute things and beautiful food. I miss having that friend who is exactly where I am (even though she isn't...), and who understands my every thought. I miss her music, her laugh, and our parties. I just miss Jamie.

Then we got home and I opened the package which contained...

These beautiful scrapbook layout pages.

This soft and smooky blanket (with no creepy faces), and one of my favorite children's books.

...and then I cried again.

This is the essence of Jamie. I'm not good at scrapbooking, but I desperately wish I was.  She is good at all things crafty and beautifying anything. I love that about her. She always helped me be more creative and didn't make fun when I wasn't good at it. Since she isn't here to help me make something beautiful for my baby, she just did all the hard work so all I have to do is stick the pictures on it! There couldn't be a better gift for someone like me. Truly.

It breaks my heart that they live so far away, but I know that no matter how far apart we live and no matter how long it's been since we've seen each other Jamie and I will always be the very best of friends. That's because I am just that lucky.

smells delicious

I'm a sucker for a really great smell.....the basics you know?

Fresh baked bread.
Josh's cologne.
Water.
Rain.
Homemade cookies.
My Daddy.
The mountains.
Stale campfire smoke.

I could go on all day really, but I won't. Because this is a story about Garret. But I am interested, what are your favorite smells?

My 9 year old nephew was sitting on Josh's lap wrestling today. After a particularly rough game of I can hold your hands longer/tighter/tougher than you can hold mine he let go and said "oh great, now my hands smell like sweat" to which I replied, "yummy! Josh-sweat, now you smell like my husband!"

Garret's voice was thick with sarcasm. "Oh yeah. great. Josh-sweat." then he paused to think about it and informed me, "actually he smells great because he wears deodorant!" and attempted to bury his nose in Josh's armpits.

Little boys are awesome.

Thank you Montana

Dad Reilley has been planning a trip to hike Kings Peak with the boys in his ward for about 3 or 4 months. He invited Josh to go and Josh was thrilled about the trip.

He couldn't wait to get out and rough it with the boys and he couldn't wait to do a real hike that would be hard and fun and I'm sure he couldn't wait to walk up the side of a mountain without hearing "stay away from the edge please! My baby needs a daddy!" (It's a wonder this man is still married to me.....)

Then Montana happened.

Since we thought Josh would probably be interviewing with corporate sometime this week and we would probably be using his vacation time to move to Motana - he bailed on the Kings Peak trip as of last week.

If nothing else comes of this Montana business, at least it kept him from going on the hike, having a major asthma attack with no supplies, no Dr., and no concerned wife to notice he wasn't breathing (heaven forbid he mention it to a man.....) leaving him stranded on the top of a mountain somewhere not breathing.

It could have (and would have) been so much worse.

So, even if nothing comes of this Montana business, at least it kept my husband at home where I could take care of him and he could have the medication and machines that he needs in order to keep him alive. Because my baby needs a daddy with air in his lungs.

Asthma Attacks

Josh has asthma. He's always had asthma. His mom tells me horrible stories about terrifying "my baby isn't breathing" experiences.

Also Josh is a Reilley at heart. Technically he's an Egbert, but he was raised 99% Reilley and is more like his Reilley-Dad than anybody else (I tell him all the time that "it must be genetic" when he does something exactly like Frank does it. He used to get confused and remind me that he has none of his Dad's genes. Now he just smiles and laughs because we both know that he has inherited pretty much everything he knows/does from his Reilley-Dad.) That means he works hard and plays harder. He doesn't believe in getting sick or tired and if the sun is up, he can't think of 1 good reason not to go do something.

Saturday was one of these "work hard and play harder" days. We'd been up since about 5:30, went Redboxing on our way to Lindon, where he dropped me off to prepare for the shower then went to my sister's house with the rest of the men in the family to help them get yardwork done.

By the time I saw him at 3:00 I could tell it wasn't pretty. Everybody was tired and sunburned, but Josh had kinda lost his color and I could hear him breathing wheezing over the noise of the kids from the next room.

I asked if he was OK, he said he'd taken his inhaler a lot, but now that he wasn't out in the weeds and pollen anymore he was sure he'd be fine. Note: Josh always thinks he's fine. I always think he's not. Sometimes he's right, and sometimes I'm right. I'm still not sure how to tell who is right which times. But this time I knew I was.

Somehow the boys won the movie discussion and Clint, Randy, Nate, Josh & I went to see Transformers. I left in the middle of the movie to go get Josh's inhaler since he (still) wasn't breathing and those oversized robot cars were (still) just fighting in the desert.

Immediately after the movie we raced home and discussed what we were going to do if we didn't have any Albuterol left over from the last time he was this bad.  Which brings me to my story:

The first year we were married I planned a big fat trip for New Years/Josh's birthday that Josh didn't know about. I talked to his boss and got him the time off work, I bought the tickets and booked the hotel, I even contacted a family from his mission to see if we could visit while we were in Portland. I hid all of the money on my credit card (which we never used) so he wouldn't notice the chunk of funds missing. I smuggled $50/paycheck into an account to pay off the credit card. And I didn't even spill the beans during the Sunday School lesson about things we should not use credit cards for (and Josh's first answer was vacations). I did a really great job planning this enormous surprise.

Even the details were taken care of. I was going to pack everything we'd need and the morning our flight left I would just tell him I didn't feel like going to work and we should go on vacation instead. He'd be so excited when I told him we were going back to Portland and that the whole thing was booked and taken care of. He was going to know I was the world's greatest wife (and never forget it).

Instead the week started with a major asthma attack. After trying to get it under control with just an inhaler, and after talking to Mom-Reilley we finally just went to the ER. He couldn't figure out why I wasn't willing to wait another day or 2 to see if he just got better. I couldn't decide whether or not to tell him we were leaving the state in a day or 2 and I needed him to be breathing in order to get through airport security.

When we got there they tested his oxygen levels in the waiting room to see how serious it was. He was not as low as he could've been (remember though that we were in the ER.....of course it wasn't as bad as it could've been he was still in one piece and he arrived in his own vehicle!) and we were in a room within 20 minutes. Which seemed fast.....considering how "not that big a deal" it was.

They started him on a breathing treatment and told him if he was gonna do this again he should really just buy a Nebulizer because it's cheaper (and faster) than a visit to the ER. He told the Dr. he had one, he just hadn't had to use it in a long time and had no medicine to put in it. The Dr. wrote the prescription for the drugs and they kept him for a few more hours....just to keep an eye on him.

I watched a lot of animal planet because as he would come in and out of sleep he'd change the channel to "something interesting" instead of whatever I would have watched.

One of the times the Dr. came in he told us "Just so you know, if you hear us talking about the SOB in room 9 that's you." Then he paused to laugh at his joke....and filled us in "SOB stands for Shortness Of Breath though....so don't be offended."  We all laughed.

Josh asked if he could take home the peace pipe he used on their machine to use on his Nebulizer - they gave us strict instructions to get the medication for it right away and to clean it properly between each use. Then they told us to talk to our regular Dr. (who didn't exist) about a more permanent solution if he was using it regularly.

After our vacation (which we still went on.....while both of us had a horrible stomach flu....we got the next day) we found a Dr. who prescribed more inhalers and told him not to do things that made it so he couldn't breath. Thank you Dr. Lady for sharing your brilliance with us.

That was the last time he went to any kind of Dr. for anything.

Since we were both so sick during our big vacation, all of our pictures look like this:

and we spent New Years Eve somewhere between the bed and the bathroom in our hotel. We woke up at 1:30 and kissed Happy New Year and fell back asleep.

I know you don't get the flu from an asthma attack, but I still lump the horrible sickness on that vacation with the trip to the ER that started our week.

Fortunately this time we had the leftover medication, but we (again) have no Dr. (we've moved and it's been 2.5 years since we saw her anyway) and are really hoping that someone will see him this week to give him more drugs.

I understand why it's necessary, but really hate that they hold you hostage for your medication.  Josh doesn't actually need a Dr. to tell him to "not do things that make it so you can't breathe" (he has a wife for that) before giving him an inhaler that he's been using since before he can remember.  I didn't need a Dr. to examine my pelvic area and tell me that I could get STDs if I had sex before renewing my prescription for birth control.....but for some reason these Dr.'s needed to say these words to us before handing either of us the valuable slip of paper.

Anybody know a great Dr. in the area? Good = one with a prescription pad....

One thing I love about 9am church....

Is that I'm getting ready to crawl back into bed (for the 3rd time today) while some of you are longing to sing your rest hymn right now.

Ha ha....suckers!

Clark Planetarium and Rainbows

Friday night we went out with Josh's old mission companion and his girlfriend. We went to see a 3D movie at Clark Planetarium. 

It was about bugs.

The kind with a lot of legs.

The kind that eat each other (praying mantises are MEAN!)

The kind that squirm and crawl and give you the heebie jeebies.

The kind that mate.

What kind of person thought "hey, let's make a movie about creepy-crawlies and then make it 3D so everyone can feel the bugs crawling on them for the rest of the night? Then we'll call it educational so everybody brings their kids to it!" I don't know who it was, but that dude is RICH.

(I had to take a picture of the bug glasses - partly to offer proof to Josh that "we do too do things!")

That movie was so freakin' awesome. Only one totally disturbing view of a praying mantis eating a fly....close up.....in his face....and a couple of mating scenes which were really not disturbing at all. Did I mention that it was 3D? No? It was.

Somehow nobody really screamed - and no babies cried, and nobody walked out early. So probably the kids weren't as disturbed as I was. In fact, I can see the boys in the audience thinking that was really cool....blood and guts and all.

After the movie (and playing with all the cool toys for a LONG time) we had dinner, and came home.  During dinner was this incredible rainstorm. The sky was beautiful, the air smelled good, the thunder rumbled clear from my toes to my shoulders, the lightening lit up the whole sky, and the raindrops were HUGE.

I've never seen a photo of a rainbow look even CLOSE to as cool as the rainbow in real life.....so don't knock the lack of photography skills....

The rainbow that followed was huge and you could see the entire thing. It arched over the whole sky, was THICK and had a shadow rainbow friend following it.

I love rain, I love rainbows. It was a great Friday night.

I can't believe I missed that!

Dear Aundrea,

Going into the weekend I knew it would be busy. I had a lot of stuff planned and a lot of obligations. But only 2 things I really wanted to do.

1. Baby shower.
2. Biggest graduation party of the century.

Wanna know what happened instead?

Mission companion bondage - check.
Redboxing - check.
Baby shower - check.
Transformers with all the guys in the family - check.
Josh's major asthma attack and threatened trip to the ER - wait, that wasn't on my list.

We raced from Utah County, waved at West Jordan as we flew past on the freeway (90-what in a construction zone?) so he could start his breathing treatment......and hopefully avoid a trip to the ER. We'll see how it goes in the morning.....

So, please don't think we didn't want to come (we did) or that I made up a big excuse to avoid social interaction (I didn't, although it sounds like me) or that I don't care that Spencer & Bri graduated (I do).

I hope that the party was ENORMOUS, and cool and fun and stress-free and that you somehow get an opportunity to nap tomorrow. I can't wait to hear about the great time I missed out on.

Please forgive me?

Love,
Amy

Montana.....or not?

I'm bad at making decisions. Really bad at it. I stress, I panic, I can't function or focus or concentrate. I avoid all intellectually stimulating conversations, projects, and situations because I'm afraid if I think my brain will explode.

Once the decision is made, I'm fine. But until that happens I'm freaking out.

We had decided.

We were going to Montana.

Then Regional Manager started singing a whole different song.

"Please come to Montana and love it so you can stay forever because I need you here." turned into "Glad you enjoyed your time there. Feel free to apply for the position and we'll see who HR and Corporate like best."

So suddenly instead of aching and crying, praying and thinking, stressing and weighing our options; it has nothing to do with us or what we think, we're totally out of control and at the mercy of Corporate.

Josh has officially applied for the position and I guess now we just wait and see what happens.

As I was telling a co-worker we're wherever is before "square 1" in the decision process. "Ground zero?" she offered.  Yes Tahnee. Ground zero is precisely where we are. And it's not a happy place.

23 weeks

Tuesday was my 23 week mark.

Wanna know what that means?

Baby can hear loud noises like the vacuum cleaner or dog barking which is good because he'll get used to them and they won’t faze him later.  That means nothing to me because I don't vacuum and don't have a dog. Josh and I made a deal before we got married. He doesn't do vomit. I don't do floors. I thought it was a good deal at the time because floors because normally floors happen more often than vomit.......not lately.


There is a whole pound (and almost a foot) of baby swimming around in there all day every day! I only feel him every once in a while, but hopefully that's about to change.....In the meantime I'm assuming that he's growing, learning, and becoming everything he should be. 

The weekly update pictures makes him look like a tiny little old man - in a creepy way. I keep feeling some body part sticking out of my belly. I keep poking it hard to feel the whole outline of it - how hard is his skull right now? I'm not going to do any permanent damage poking around am I?

Meanwhile, I’m swelling (farewell beautiful wedding ring), retaining water, wearing my carpal tunnel braces, dealing with constant heartburn, the inability to sleep, and yes. still puking…..pregnancy is an amazing gift.

Kicking vs. swimming

I know you’re not supposed to compare, and I know that just because I’m not exactly the same as the people around me who are pregnant (and due within a week or 2 of me) doesn’t mean my baby is broken, and it doesn’t mean that something’s wrong, but I’m still comparing and feeling behind in this whole pregnancy process.

While Nancy is being beat up by her sweet fetus, and Ashley’s husband can feel the baby all the time, and the other Ashley has the cutest pregnant tummy I’ve ever seen. On the other hand, I get excited if I feel the flutter once a week. Josh humors me when I tell him to push on the hard lump in my tummy or feel my heartbeat on my stomach instead of my chest but really I don’t know if he can feel anything. He certainly can't feel the baby move. And my tummy still just looks like my tummy and not really pregnant – but my regular pants did start to feel a little tight on this trip. If I’m being honest I’d blame that on the trips to Wendy’s more than the baby, but if I’m being my regular rational Pregnant Lady self (and I am) it’s all about Baby Thomas.

Then suddenly after a nice big slice of my mom’s homemade blueberry pie, out of nowhere this baby grew real limbs. And he figured out how to use them.

The first feelings of a “flutter” are the kind of thing I could clearly feel, but it took a minute to tell if it was an emotion or a physical feeling. Kindof like being nervous, or excited, but clearly something you could feel. This, however, was different. A punch, or kick, or head butt, or knee, or elbow straight from the inside out. It was short, and fast, and all alone. No flurry of kicking or bouncing. Not even a series of “flutters” followed, but it was probably the coolest thing I’ve ever felt.

I couldn’t take my hand off my tummy because if he did it again I wanted to try to feel it from the outside. He didn’t. And still hasn’t. It’s been almost 2 full days and I’ve felt nothing like it again. Which makes m wonder – was that wishful thinking? Did I make it up? If I did feel it and I haven’t since, is that bad? Does that mean something is wrong? I don’t feel him often, I never have....so I suppose it's normal for me, but not normal for anybody else - and that freaks me out a little.

A lose-lose situation.

Sometimes Josh and I disagree about the things we should do.

For example, the man actually believes that buying a kayak right now (in our current home and situation) would be a good idea. I think there are very few things that would be less practical to purchase given that we are about to have a baby (where exactly does one put a baby while kayaking?), we have nowhere to store a kayak (can we say 1 car garage?), nowhere to use a kayak (we live in the dessert!), and have no extra money (for things like kayas, but plenty of extra money for things like baby clothes).  This happens to be a disagreement that I am currently winning. We'll see how long that lasts.

Perhaps a better example would be my constant NEED desire to eat at Subway and his constant desire to eat at……NOT Subway.

Usually one of us doesn’t really care that much and gives in. But every once in a while (because we’re grownups) we respectfully agree to disagree and compromise (say it with me class “com-pro-mise”). Because…well….that way nobody gets what they want. It’s what we call a “lose-lose situation”.

Instead of choosing between Subway, which sounds good to me, and Taco Bell, which sounds good to Josh, we go to Panda Express, which sounds good to nobody. See how great that works?

The thing is this concept works for everything:

I want to watch a chick flick, he wants an action movie. We watch Paul Blart. Lose-lose.

I want to take a nap, he wants to do laundry. He plays Zelda while I read blogs. That way we’re tired, with no clean clothes. Lose-lose.

He wants to spend less money on baby stuff. I want some nice stuff for Baby. We’ll probably wind up spending a lot of money on un-nice stuff. Lose-lose.

And that my friends, is the secret to a long and happy marriage. A lose-lose situation, also known as compromise.