I just had time to lick the spoon.

I felt it coming.
I had felt it coming for a long time.
It's sneaky.
Camouflaging itself as guilt.
What's wrong with you?
Suck it up.
You don't have time for that.

I thought I had fought it off.
I let my guard down a few evenings ago, and it went in for the kill.
It's sneaky. I told you.

Changing dirty diapers and feeding hungry bellies occupy a huge part of each day.
In toddler land, both of those things are very touchy subjects.
Wrestling a seal and feeding a cheeseburger to a goldfish might be comparable.
Oh and potty training? Patience. That's all I have to say about that. You don't know patience until you encounter potty training.
In baby land, it's blowouts and boobies/bottles. I would say it's a tad easier, but also more time consuming.
Having to pee while feeding a baby takes incredible skill. Using one wipe instead of 1,000 is equally as skillful.
Teaching rapidly growing and curious brains takes up another good chunk of the day.
Questions, conversations, shapes, colors, ABCs, animals, numbers.
In between changing diapers, filling bellies and teaching brains there is clean up and lovins.
Baths, messes...messes, baths.
With messes, comes laundry; and spot cleaning poop, spaghetti sauce, finger paint, marker and lots of unidentifiable stains out of carpet, rugs and tiny clothes.
Kisses for boo-boos; and then kisses for the elephant, meow-meow, bunny, spider, sheep, dinosaur, and bear...because they have boo-boos, too.
Mommy, hold me please.
Of course I will. I'll hold you as long as you'll let me. Any time, any place. I would cuddle you forever.
Cuddles turn into gymnastics. On my face.
Laughing and enjoying the moment, while also guarding myself from accidental head butts and eye pokes.
Nap time is a mythical creature these days.

When Tyler came home that day, I was excited.
Excited to see him, but also equally excited to use the bathroom in private.
Apparently I didn't look excited, though.
Babe, are you ok?
Of course I'm ok.
Why is he asking me that?

I walked to the bathroom, closed the door and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
Typically, I don't take the time to look at myself during the day.  It had been a typical day.
With that glimpse, I walked up to the mirror and took a good look.
Hair unwashed. Clothes covered in crusty things. Dark circles under my eyes.
My appearance was expressing what I had been trying to ignore.
No wonder Tyler asked me if I was ok, I thought.
My stomach growled. With that growl, I remembered something.
I only had time to lick the spoon.
The spoon I had used to make Adi's PB&J for lunch.
A spoon because all of the knives were in the dishwasher.
I hadn't eaten all day.
It wasn't new, it happens a lot.
But in that moment, alone in the bathroom, I had time to think about it.

I'm sure I am speaking for the majority of moms when I say this,

I love my babies.
I love them with all of my heart and soul.
They are my joy.
My sunshine.
My everything.
I've never laughed so hard, smiled so big or loved so much.
I remember when I heard their heartbeat for the first time. When I felt them flutter inside me for the first time. Looking into their eyes for the first time and forgetting all of the pain my body had endured to get them here.
Their first smile, laugh, roll, crawl, steps.  Watching their little minds think and grow.  Their hugs and kisses. Everything.
My babies make every day, the best day.
I wouldn't trade being their mommy for all of the money in the world.

I'm so thankful; but I'm also tired.
And I realized, when I saw myself in the mirror, that I need to pay a little more attention to myself.
I'm not talking anything crazy, just basic.
Trying to, at least, shower and eat daily. Take a nap when the opportunity arises. Steal a few minutes to paint my nails. Maybe throw on some mascara.
Little things can make the biggest difference.

Being a mommy is the most incredible experience; and it's also the most self-sacrificing.
There's a fine line between sacrifice and neglect.
Let's make a conscious effort to not cross that line.
Our babies deserve the best version of their mommies.

Let's do our best to give them that version.
A mommy who not only takes care of them, but also takes care of herself.

A mommy who does more than lick the spoon...and doesn't feel guilty about it.

I'm a bad friend.

I'm a bad friend.
I used to be a good friend.
The text all day, talk all night, drop everything friend.

You texted, I replied.
You called, I answered.
Want to grab dinner tonight? Sure!

Then something happened.
I got married.
And I felt something change inside of me.
My desire for that kind of friendship, the drop everything kind, it wasn't a desire anymore.
My new desire was to spend (the majority of) my free time with my husband.

At first I thought it was temporary.
I thought it was just the "newness" of married life.
I thought things would eventually go back to normal.
But as time passed, I realized that the desire (to spend my free time with my husband) was my new normal.
I married my best friend.

You texted, I replied 80% of the time.
You called, I answered some...but you usually got my voicemail.
Dinner tonight? How about dinner a week from Saturday.

Then something happened.
I had a baby.
And once again, something changed.
My new desire was to spend (the majority of) my free time with the little family we created.

You texted, I replied 5 hours later.
You called, it went straight to voicemail.
Dinner tonight? How about dinner a week from Saturday...as long as the baby isn't sleeping, or teething, and as long as I wasn't up with her all night. Oh, and as long as I am able to take a shower (haven't had one of those for a few days).

You tried to understand. I know you tried. But I could tell you were frustrated.
You thought I stopped caring about you. You felt like you weren't important.
I cried. A lot.
I cried because I knew that, even though you tried, you didn't understand.  It wasn't your fault. You just couldn't. I didn't understand until I was here.

My heart hurt because I knew you were hurting.
I wanted to apologize.

But the thing is, I'm not sorry.

I'm happy. Happy that I didn't marry just anyone.  I married the love of my life.  My best friend. Someone I want to spend all my days with. All my time with. Someone I would rather watch movies at home (in our pajamas, eating Chinese takeout) with, instead of going out.
Happy that we had a baby, and then another baby. Babies that are, in reality, my tiny best friends.
Babies that unlocked a love that I can't even begin to explain.

We're in different seasons.

I'm me.
I'm the same friend.
I care about you.
I love you.
But I'm not just a friend anymore.
I'm also a wife and a mommy.
I have a husband and two babies who are the loves of my life.
They deserve the majority of my time and attention;
and I can't give you as much of myself as I used to.

I know that, right now, you think I'm a bad friend.
But I pray that, one day, you'll marry your best friend and that you'll have tiny best friends.
I pray that you'll want to spend the majority of your free time with them.
I pray that you'll get to experience this kind of happiness and love.
I pray that you'll understand completely.

That, one day, you'll be a bad friend too.

PS. I already understand.

Dear old self, From my now self.

"ORGANIC!

Everything my baby eats will be organic. 

I've researched. The sparkling baby bullet is sitting in my kitchen. I've decided. 

And after baby food...STILL organic. 

Mac and cheese? Chicken nuggets? Cheese puffs?

GROSS! 

My baby will never eat that POISON."

That was me. Almost 3 years ago. Freshly pregnant with this little lady...

I can't help but laugh when I think about that old self.
My brand, spanking new, pregnancy test still dripping with pee, new-found mommy self.
The one who would laugh in my face if I were to go back in time and show her this picture.

Conversation between my old self and my now self:

"Who is that kid? And WHERE is her mom?"

Where is her mom?

I'm sitting right here.

Watching her eat cheese puffs straight from the bag.
"How did she get that bag of poison?"

I gave it to her.
"What kind of mom are you?!"

Funny story, actually. I'm you. My child is the one who is hanging out inside your uterus right now.

"HAHAHA! You're crazy. You are not me. NO way."

Oh, I promise I am you. 

A you who is 2 years and 1 month into (out of the womb) mommy-hood.  

A you who played hard all morning with her 2 year old.
A you who (spoiler alert!) just danced her 4 month old to sleep. 

A you who is tired. 

A you who realized that allowing her toddler to eat a few cheese puffs, will allow her to sit down and rest for a few minutes.

I know you want what's best for that sweet baby growing in your belly...

You've already heard and read that the only way to provide that is to do organic everything...

but truth is,
you're going to stress yourself out.
You're going to give your baby things that aren't organic.
You're going to feel like you failed,

but you haven't failed.
You've learned.
You've learned that the only person who knows what's best for your baby is YOU.

If organic-everything stresses you out too much,

then it's not what's best for your baby.

And approximately 3 years from the moment you're in right now,

you'll finally realize that you haven't failed...

that you're an awesome mommy...

and that a few cheese puffs won't hurt.

one day

We've all had them.
Days when we feel like we are 2 seconds away from running away.
And by running away, I mean calling someone (husband, mom, friend) and letting them know, in a calm but serious voice, that you will be leaving your house in a few short seconds.
What about the kids?
That's why I called you.
You're not taking them with you?
No. They've been screaming all day. Refused naps. Threw their food.  Drew on the wall.  Peed in the floor.  Hit me in the face. Made me cry. They're the reason I'm running away.
I'll be right over.
Thank you. By the way, the house is a wreck. Dirty laundry, dirty dishes.  The living room, the bathroom. I'm not even going to describe the state of my bedroom. Please hurry. 
Ok, where are you going?
Well, I was going to just get in the car and drive as far as I could.  But I'm too tired for that.  I think I'll just take a nap.  And maybe a shower.  Did I mention that I need you to hurry?

Am I right?

The days we feel like failures.  To our kids.  To motherhood.  To all of mankind.

You know what I think?

I think we are putting too much pressure on ourselves.

The house should be spotless.  Empty laundry baskets, not overflowing with dirty clothes. Spotless sinks, not piled up with dishes from last night's dinner....and maybe the night before that...and also from breakfast and lunch.  Clean floors, not covered in toys, stained with spills and smudged with tiny footprints.

Stop.  Stop putting so much pressure on yourself. Stop letting others put pressure on you.

One time, I read something along the lines of "When I'm frustrated with my kids, don't tell me how fast time passes. Don't tell me how much you wish you could go back to where I am right now."

Why is that not ok?  Why is it not ok for a woman, who has been where you are, to tell you that time passes far too quickly?

As a mommy of a 2 year old and a 4 month old, I'm here to tell you....
Time has never passed so fast.
We wake up in the mornings, and before I know it, the day is over and we're going to bed.
It's like trying to hold water in your hands.
These days are going to be gone before we know it.
The days of hearing little footsteps...the same ones that leave smudges on the floor.
The days of filling up sippy cups...the same ones that spill and leave stains.
One day we'll have time to wash the piles of laundry and the dirty dishes.
One day, our babies won't need our constant attention.
Because they won't be babies anymore.

Let's kick the expectations and pressure to the curb.
Let's give ourselves a little grace.

And if you still feel like running away sometimes?
That's ok.
Call your husband, call your mom, call a friend....
Ask for help.
Take a hot shower and a power nap.
And when you wake up, enjoy every second of your babies, being babies.
You'll have a spotless house one day.

what they say is true, but let me explain.

I think we have all probably heard someone (who is already a parent) say,
Your whole life is about to change
to an expectant mom and dad.
And the tone used is similar to the one used when we whisper Don't go down in the basement or Look behind you, when a character in a suspenseful television show or movie is about to die.
And that's that. They don't elaborate or explain themselves. They say it, half smile, possibly chuckle, and then either change the subject, or walk away.
In their defense, those "already parents"  are probably completely oblivious to the fact that they just left the soon-to-be parents in a mental panic.
What did they mean by that? What did they mean by change? What else changes someone's life? ....TSUNAMIS! Oh my gosh, we're going to die!
Maybe everyone's mental panic is not as dramatic as mine, but you get the picture.
What they say is true, but it's not scary, and it's nowhere close to being a natural disaster.
I'm going to do a little elaborating for them.
They are telling you that, you haven't met your best friend yet...but you're about to. You haven't experienced the true depth of love yet...but you're about to. You haven't met the most beautiful person in the world yet...but you're about to.  You haven't met the smartest person in the world yet...but you're about to. You're about to smile more than you thought possible.  Laugh more than you thought possible.  Pray more than you thought possible. Change more poop-filled diapers than you thought possible ;) You're about to be so incredibly proud of someone, just for being who they are. You're about to care for someone so much, that you will willingly put their needs before your own 24/7. You're about to hug and kiss someone from the time you get up, until the time you go to sleep. Oh and have people told you that you'll never sleep again? They're exaggerating. You won't sleep as much as you used to, but guess what? You won't mind. With every precious smile and every sweet giggle, your heart will explode and melt all at once. You're about to meet your whole world. And you're about to be someone's whole world. In their eyes, no one will ever, ever, ever compare to you. You'll be their hero. 
Yes, you're about to be tired and, most likely, un-bathed; but you are about to experience more love and more joy than you ever knew existed.
Your life is about to change, but you won't remember what it was like before, and you won't want to.

dry shampoo.

Baby girl turned 8 months old yesterday.
EIGHT months old.
That absolutely blows my mind.
She's so big now. And buddy, does she have one sassy personality. Or should I say, attitude?
Either way, she sure keeps me on my toes these days.
She is the most incredible little human I've ever met.
For the life of me, I can't figure out where the time has gone.
I've watched her, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week....and somehow, she grew right before my eyes, without warning.
It feels like she should still only be a few days old....but she is currently STANDING right in front of me with the sweetest bottom toothed grin.

One of the biggest reasons I can't wrap my mind around the fact that she's two thirds of a year old, is because I feel like I am no where close to being a two thirds of a year old mommy.
In 8 months, she's learned to smile, laugh, suck her thumb without poking her eye out, roll over, sit up, pick things up, play with her toys, talk jibberish, say mama and dada, clap, give hugs, point, high five, hug, eat some big girl food, hold the phone up to her ear, say hi, crawl, pull herself up. She's gained 13 pounds, grown 8 inches and has 2 bottom teeth.

And me?
I'm an awesome milk maker, I body shower daily, use dry shampoo frequently, remember to eat 50% of the time, and 9 times out of 10 one of my boobs is flopping in the wind because I forgot to put it away after a nursing session. I have a mountain of laundry that could compete with Everest, and a sink of dishes that could be featured on an episode of Hoarders.  Kick butt diaper changer used to be on that list, but I'm currently having to change my technique because she changed it up about 2 weeks ago, and changing her now is like changing a greased pig....that is log rolling.

If you kept count, you saw that Adi is awesome.

Some days I may feel like I'm failing and doing everything wrong, and I might look like a hobo....
but when my little girl looks at me, she sees a mommy that can do anything. A superwoman. A woman that she is head over heels in love with. And I'm thankful for that, because I'm head over heels in love with her, too.

Unconditional Love

I thought I knew what love was, but then I had a baby.
We've all heard that, or something similar.
I never understood what that meant.
But then I had a baby.
And within the first few minutes of meeting my daughter, I said it.
I've said it every day since then.
For the past 5 months, I've wondered why people say it....why I say it.
I loved my husband before I loved my daughter, right?

I've never heard someone say, I thought I knew what love was, but then I got married.
Why? Do we not (really) love our spouses? Of course we do!
The love between spouses is wonderful. You better one another, encourage one another, look past one another's imperfections...you CHOOSE to love one another, every day.
Imagine what married life would be like if one spouse woke up one day and decided they weren't going to choose love? The whole day would be filled with being angry, unforgiving, and seeing every single imperfection their spouse had. That's how divorce happens.

After 41 weeks, I finally met my beautiful baby girl. I held her for the first time, looked into her eyes for the first time, kissed her for the first time, and I felt an overwhelming emotion that I had never felt before. I knew the emotion was love, so I said it,
"I thought I knew what love was."

I finally understand why parents say it. Why I say it.
It wasn't just a baby that grew inside me. Unconditional love also grew.
Unconditional love. That's what's different. It's not a love you choose, it's a love that's birthed.
It can't be defined. Every time I try to define it, tears fill my eyes. It's incredible and terrifying. Incredible because I had no idea I was capable of feeling a love like this. Terrifying because my heart is now outside of my body. It's a love that is completely overwhelming.
No matter what she does or who she becomes...my love will be constant.
Even when she's 40 years old, I will see her as the tiny baby who is sleeping in my arms, right now.
And just when I think there is no way this love could be more overwhelming....I remember,
this is how God feels about us- His children....His babies.


"Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
you formed me in my mother's womb.
I thank you, High God-
you're breathtaking!
Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
I worship in adoration- what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared before I'd even lived one day."
Psalm 139:13-16 (MSG)
 

you are umbrella?

On this lovely winter day,
I have decided to talk about one of my pet peeves:
when people don't know how to use "a" verses "an".....or "your" verses "you're."
I'm not going to lie.
If I am browsing through my Facebook or Instagram, and I see someone say something like,
(example 1) "I took my kids to the zoo and they got to pet a elephant."
or
(example 2) "Your awesome."....
that person immediately loses all of the 100 intelligence points that I subconsciously give everyone.
I assume everyone is intelligent until proven otherwise.
It just really annoys my inner English nerd.
Don't worry. If you use those words incorrectly, or you know someone who uses them incorrectly, I have 2 simple rules that are sure to clear up any confusion.

a vs. an
If a word begins with vowel, use "an"....if it doesn't start with a vowel, use "a".
And you're gold.
...an apple...
...an egg...
...an igloo...
...an octopus...
...an umbrella...
The only word I can think of that doesn't go by this rule is: uterus. It's a uterus...not an uterus. Weird.

your vs. you're
Rule? I don't know.Your is possessive and you're means YOU ARE. That apostrophe takes out the "a" and joins the two words and saves you a millionth of a second when you're talking/typing.
SO when you're (you are) typing a sentence...before you insert one of these two words....say it out loud before you post it.
You're (you are) awesome? Your awesome? ...YOU'RE AWESOME!
Your umbrella? You're (you are) umbrella? YOUR UMBRELLA!

So now that you know the rules, if Adi and I see you use the wrong one, we're going to look at you and laugh like this...

That little love just woke up from her nap, so this mommy's got to go!

Hello there, 2014

There have been many days that I have wanted to blog, but decided not to.
It just seems like there is never enough hours in a day, here lately.
Time is passing so quickly, I feel like I'm going a million miles an hour most days.
I mean, I blinked and my pregnancy was over.
Then I blinked again and my baby girl is going on 4 months old! CRAZY.
She's now wearing her 6-9 month clothes, holds her head up like it's no big deal, and  plays like a professional.
I can't tell you how many times I've just stared at her and thought, "baby girl, slow down..."
So when it comes down to either blogging or snuggling with my sweet girl, this mommy always chooses the latter.
But my husband gave me a Christmas gift that will give me a little bit of extra time.
It's a gift I never knew I wanted, but after meeting Adi, I wanted it more than anything.
Starting this February, I will be a STAY AT HOME MOMMY!
Tyler got an amazing, promotion that was most definitely an unexpected blessing from God.
I can't wait to spend every day with my girl!
And hopefully I will be seeing a lot more of you guys, too :)

Introducing...

Adilynn Faith.

This sweet girl made her grand (and fashionably late) entrance on September 26 at 9:11pm.

She weighed in at a whopping 7lb. 4.8oz and was 19 inches long.

These pictures were taken when we met for the first time.

I think her and I were thinking the same thing,

"Hey, I've been waiting for you."

I'm so glad my sweet husband snapped these pictures.

I'll remember that moment for the rest of my life. 

 Our first time as a family of 3.

So many happy tears.

The delivery was nothing like I expected.

I found out at 20 weeks pregnant that I wouldn't be able to get an epidural,

so it was all natural.

Tyler was amazing.

He was my rock through the entire process.

 It was pretty intense,

and there were some scary times.

But there were some wonderful times, too.

I would do it all again, to meet my sweet girl.

That's all I'll say about the labor/delivery for now.

We have been on a babymoon since Adi arrived.

I can't believe she is almost 2 months old!

Time seriously needs to slow down.

Now for a picture overload!

(If you follow me on Instagram, you've probably already seen most of these)

Still can't stop staring at her :)

lips :)

So tiny!

New romantic text messages.

5 days old

Adi wasn't thrilled with the nice head lick she had just received.

Sunday morning cuddles with Daddy.

1 month old :)

Adi pooped her pants.

Girl time!

Being a mommy is the best thing I have ever experienced.

And to all if my blog friends who have been struggling/diagnosed with infertility

(like me)

please don't lose hope.

God is bigger.

You're going to be a mommy, too.

spaghetti

Remember how exciting everything is in the beginning of a relationship?
You're nervous. Your palms sweat. You're constantly terrified that you have a booger in your nose.
And that person. They seem so perfect. Flawless. You could just stare at them all day.
Poop? No. They don't do that. Only imperfect people poop.
Fart? Of course not! Even if they did....it would smell like cotton candy and roses.
Get on your nerves? Never! They will never, ever, ever..EVER get on your nerves.

After a while, the guy gets super comfortable. Comfortable enough to not be uncomfortable. The plug is dislodged...and the winds blow. After that first bridge is passed, he never goes back. The winds blow forever and ever. And as you sit there with your nose hairs burning, you think to yourself, "wow....how can something smell like that?....he's so gross...but somehow I still love him."
Next comes the nerves. He does something that makes you stop and think..."oh my gosh. I want to punch him in the face....but....somehow....I still love him."
Then comes the day when you innocently walk into the bathroom and are smacked in the face with the dinner from last night that traveled through 20+ feet of your sexy man's intestines. Air freshener? He's too comfortable for that. And while you're dry heaving over the toilet that holds the left over contents that held onto the side of the bowl....you think to yourself..."wow. I still love him."
We realize they aren't perfect...but we love them anyway.

A few months pass and you finally decide to be "comfortable."
So you fart. You poop. And you get on his nerves.
But to your surprise, he isn't even phased by it. He doesn't "still love you..." no, he looks at you with eyes that say, "I LOVE YOU MORE THAN I EVER HAVE IN MY WHOLE ENTIRE LIFE! YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL AND AWESOME!"

(this is from our engagement shoot in 2010...he's all like "mmmmm you're so perfect")

All of that brings us to last night.
2 years of marriage.
Many poops, farts, and nerves later.
And my husband still thinks I'm perfect.

I started having contractions last night.
Nothing consistent, but definitely different from Braxton Hicks.
I have an overwhelming feeling of "Oh my gosh I don't know how to use my boobies!"
So I go to the nursery, grab my basket of breast feeding gear, and plop myself in the floor.
I pull out the user manual for the manual breast pump....and before I knew it, I had the breast pump on my right boob....still reading the step by step instructions.
I heard Tyler looking for me, but I was so deep in thought that I didn't respond.
The next step I read was to squeeze the handle with significant force.
I argued back and forth with myself
"No...no I can't squeeze it. That's weird. I don't even have a baby yet. What if something comes out? I'll freak out if something comes out. But I need to know how it's going to feel....yeah. I have to do it. I have to. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Ok. Go."
And there I went. I squeezed the handle with significant force.
...I watched in horror as the suction from the pump stretched my nipple into the funnel.
And little did I know, my husband had found me...and was also watching in horror.

By the facial expression I observed on his face...I know that he finally had an "I still love you" moment.

I'm pretty sure it went something like, "I just saw my wife experimenting with a breast pump.....I saw her nipple turn into a piece of spaghetti.....but I still love her."

When Adi gets here, he'll get used to the breastfeeding thing...and I'll probably go back to being perfect...but right now, right now his mind is pretty scarred.

furry weirdo

Oh my crap.
The little person that has been living in my uterus is officially FULL TERM.
The question now is whether she'll decide to come out medium-well or well-done.
My doctor seems to think it's only a matter of single digit days now....and I sure hope she's right!
For the past 3 days, I've stayed up until the wee hours of morning...CLEANING.
Can we say, nesting???
And my poor feet are ginormous. Seriously. 1 week after they started swelling, my weight went up 5 pounds! Crazy. They don't hurt....it just freaks me out to look down and see nothing but calf and toes.

Something else that is crazy?
This guy.

He has been pretty obsessed with my belly for the past few months.

His head or paws are constantly in contact with it....which is super cute...but last night he got weird.

He jumped up in the recliner with me last night, and laid like this for 2 hours.

He has never laid on my belly that long. EVER. Because Adi likes to kick him...so it's usually like 5 minutes, tops.

After hour number 2, I started thinking how "in tune" dogs can be...and I decided I should take a precautionary "I may go into labor and I don't want to be skanky" shower.

Baylee followed me to the bathroom.

I got in the shower.

Baylee laid beside the shower.

I got out of the shower and started getting ready for bed.

Baylee laid on my feet.

I got in bed.

Baylee slept in my buttcrack.

He is a very lovey dog...but not THAT lovey.

As I went to sleep last night I was positive that I was either 1.) going to die or 2.) going into labor.

Neither of those things happened.....but he is still being weird. I'm pretty sure he is staring into my soul as we speak.



30 days

As I was randomly browsing through Facebook this morning, a post from my photographer caught my attention. She had posted a picture of a pregnant lady...so naturally I clicked on it, and to my surprise, the pregnant lady was me.



I immediately felt so many emotions. Disbelief, mostly. And then I read what she wrote about the picture.

"'Stand still and consider the wondrous works of God.'- Job 37:14  
I know this is a time that Autumn and Tyler are standing still and considering another amazing chapter in their story. When I got to this image, I stopped. I remembered so much about how Autumn and Tyler got to be Autumn and Tyler(and now Adi, too) and God reminded me of how big His plans are."

And the tears flowed. And they continue to flow.
Three years ago, around this time, I got a phone call from a doctor who said that my test results were back. She told me I needed to sit down. I sat in silence as she said,
 All of your tests show that you have no eggs. If you were considering having children in the future, I suggest you start looking into other options. You will never be able to have a baby of your own.
I don't know if I said anything. I think I just hung the phone up. I tried to comprehend what I had just heard, and I broke down. My whole heart shattered into a million pieces. My world stopped. I had never felt such devastation...even when I received the news of having cancer.....that was nothing compared to the thought of never experiencing the feeling of having a little life growing inside of me.
The next 2 years were a rollercoaster of emotions. There was never a day when I didn't think about that phone call. I rejoiced with couples who were announcing their pregnancies and the births of their babies....but I also mourned inside.
My sweet husband would find me in bed during the day, crying...and he always said the same thing.
Babe, if God wants us to have a baby, we're going to have a baby.
I wanted to believe his words more than anything...but I couldn't. I had no eggs. How could I ever be pregnant if I didn't have eggs? It felt impossible. It was impossible.
But 8 months ago, I woke up at 4 in the morning....to pee. And while I was half asleep, I dug through my bathroom cabinet and pulled out a dust covered pregnancy test, took it, and no more than 5 seconds later, God showed me just how possible my impossible was.....I was pregnant.

And today marks exactly one month until my due date!

No matter how hopeless and impossible your situation may seem, just keep reminding yourself...
God loves showing us just how possible our impossible is.

from Tyler to Daddy

Besides watching miss Adi grow and move inside my belly,
what has been  my favorite thing about pregnancy?
My husband.
The man who has never been around an infant.
The man who I find (often) standing in front of Adi's closet with tears in his eyes.
The man who is madly in love with the tiny girl in my uterus,
but is terrified that he is going to break her neck off.
He's been my favorite.
Especially here recently.
At our last baby appointment, my doctor made a statement that has caused my husband to have sleepless, upset stomach, and nervous diarrhea-filled nights, ever since.
You need to start watching for signs of labor because she could make her appearance ANYTIME.
I was extremely excited to hear that.
Tyler looked like he was about to pass out.

He has his bag packed, he packed his "manly" diaper bag, the car is constantly filled with gas, he calls me/texts me 1000 times a day, and like I said....he hasn't slept a wink.

It's the cutest/sweetest/funniest thing I've ever watched.

The night before last, I got into the shower at 11pm.
He ran into the bathroom.
Autumn, why are you taking a shower so late??? Are you ok??
I'm fine, I just used dry shampoo this morning...and I don't want to have nasty hair when I go to the hospital.
YOU HAVE TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL?!!? ARE YOU IN LABOR!?
No babe. I'm just being prepared.

I slept like a log that night.
Tyler didn't sleep at all....and he puked.

Even though I giggle at a lot of the things he's been doing,
I have never been more in love with my husband.
Watching him turn into a Daddy....
it absolutely melts my heart.
I can't wait to see him hold Adi in his arms for the first time.
My heart just might burst.

my husband IS my soul mate

A lot of you have probably seen a blog post floating around social media recently.
It's called my husband is not my soul mate.
In a nutshell, it talked about how theology pointed towards the idea that God didn't make that one perfect person for us.  It talked about the evangelical storm that took place about a decade ago that taught teenage girls (and boys) that God made their husband/wife specifically for them and that they should wait for them. A lot of love notes were written for those future husbands and wives.....and in the post's opinion, it was just a way to try to keep teens from going crazy in the dating world. It said that God gave us free will to choose who we want to marry and the one was technically not real.

That blog post showed up on my Facebook news feed more than once... and I read it more than once.
I tried my hardest to agree with it (because a lot of people were re-posting it), but I couldn't.
So here is my view of the one.

I believe 110% that God made the perfect person for each one of us.
Is my opinion backed up with a bunch of deep theology? No.
It is backed up with this: God made Eve SPECIFICALLY for Adam.
God knew Adam from the inside out. He knew everything there was to know about him...and He made Eve for Adam. Adam had free will, but God didn't make 2 women for him to chose from. He made one. Eve.

Of course not everyone marries the one...because God did give us free will. Sometimes we are impatient. Does that mean that those marriages are destined to be horrible? Of course not! As long as God is the center of the marriage, it will be successful. 

I personally think that, today, we are guilty of putting too much emphasis on theology, and not enough emphasis on the face value of the verse. Sometimes theology is used in order to make Bible verses mean what we want them to mean. People try to go too deep...instead of simply reading the verses. I was brought up in a church that never just accepted verses for what they said. There had to be some hidden meaning.
Over the past 3 years, I've realized that God didn't write the Bible for scholars and theologians. He didn't write it for us to crack the code. He wrote it for normal, average, every day people.  It's not some sort of puzzle.

I was one of those little girls who wrote letters to my future husband. I prayed for him. I told God what I hoped for in my husband- and let me tell you, I was extremely specific. I didn't search for my husband....but I found him. And he was everything I had prayed for. God knows me from the inside out, just like He knew Adam. He loves me just as much as He loved Adam. Why would he not make an "Eve" for me?

My husband is my soul mate.

diaries of a mad pregnant woman: entry #2

As Adi (and my belly) has grown the past several weeks,
there has been an influx in belly comments.
I used to receive sweet comments:
AWWWWW how cute is your little baby bump!
You're finally starting to show!
You have the cutest little belly!
etc, etc...
These new comments, however, have awakened the mad pregnant woman within.
I have started making a list. I have labeled this list: 

TOP 3  BELLY COMMENTS YOU SHOULDN'T SAY TO A PREGNANT WOMAN IN THE THIRD TRIMESTER...if you want to live.

#3. Oh, WOW.....
So when are you due?
September!
Oh, WOW....

Oh, WOW? What exactly do you mean by that? Never mind, I could tell my the emphasis you put on the WOW.  You just told me that it looks like I'm going to give birth in the next 2 minutes. Oh, you didn't mean it that way? Yes you did. I want to karate chop your esophagus.

#2. Doubled.
Oh my gosh, I think it's doubled in size since I last saw you.
............oh, really?

You saw me YESTERDAY.  Is that supposed to make me want to hug you? Would it make you happy if I told you YOUR belly doubled in size since yesterday? Well your face has also doubled in ugliness since I last saw you.....how about that? Yeah, that's right.

#1. ARE YOU SURE???
How many weeks do you have left?
Oh about 8!
Goodness. Are you sure there aren't twins in there?
Oh I'm sure.

I'm also sure that I would like to punch your mouth off.

And that concludes the top 3 things you probably shouldn't say to a pregnant woman in her third trimester.
If you have made one of these comments and the pregnant woman has responded with a soft "chuckle"....you have been very close to death.

See, we are very happy that our bellies are growing because that means our precious babies are growing. But the belly growth is obvious. There is no need to reinforce the impending stretch marks, the current difficulty we are experiencing when trying to shave our legs, or our new walk waddle.
We are very aware of the tiny humans growing in our bodies....just tell us how beautiful we are....that's safe. Comments like Oh your belly has grown! or Oh my goodness, look at your belly! or something along those lines are safe, too. Like I said, we're proud of our bellies. Just don't be stupid.

In case you missed it on Instagram, here's my 30 week bump!

Happy Monday!

counting down the days

baby.
That word.
That's all I can think about. It consumes every thought of my day.
I walk into the kitchen and think not much longer until we're washing little bottles.
I sit down in the living room and think not much longer until I'm laying in on the couch with Adi sleeping on my chest.
I walk into the bedroom and think not much longer until I'm awakened in the night by tiny cries to be fed.
I walk into the bathroom and think not much longer until we're having bath time.

And then...I walk into her nursery. And as I look around the room- at her crib, at the colors, at the little clothes hanging in her closet... every single time....tears fill my eyes and I think she's really coming...the baby we were told would never happen...the baby we prayed fervently for....the baby I wept and cried out to God for....our baby girl. Adilynn. She's really coming.

 
The day is getting closer, sweet girl. I can't wait to hold you in my arms.

diaries of a mad pregnant woman

When you're super pregnant,
your doctor makes you do a nice little ditty called a "1 hour glucose test."

It goes something like this:
Oh hey! You can't eat or drink ANYTHING from the time you get up in the morning,
until the test is finished.
So now you're pregnant and starving.
HAHAHA.
But don't worry, we're going to give you a cocktail.
It's called orange syrup. 100% straight up sugar.
You have to drink the whole bottle.
THEN we will take your blood 1 hour later.
AND CHECK YOUR SUGAR.
If your sugar level is normal, you win.
If it's high, you LOSE.

If you win, you can skip happily into a field of wildflowers. 
If you lose.....oh, if you lose, do we have a surprise for you.
It's called a 3 hour glucose test! 
Are you excited!?

The 3 hour test goes a little something like this:
Hi again! You can't eat ANYTHING from 11pm the night before the test,
until the test is finished.
So now you're pregnant, starving.....and angry.

As soon as you come in,
we're going to take your blood (1).
If your sugar level is high, you lose, and you now have gestational diabetes. 
You can't eat sweets until the baby is born.
If your sugar level is normal, you lose, and now we give you a super-sized cocktail.
DRINK IT IN 5 MINUTES OR LESS.
OH, AND DON'T VOMIT.
When you're finished drinking the cocktail,
you will wait for an hour.
You still can't eat/drink.
Your hangry state will increase.
We take your blood again (2).
You will wait another hour.
STILL NO FOOD.
HANGRY.
We take your blood again (3).
You need to vomit?
If you do, you'll have to start all over.
SWALLOW IT.
Wait one more hour.
You are now starving to death. Do you have a last will and testament?
HANGRY.
And we'll take your blood one last time.

If all of the sugar levels are normal- you WIN!
If just one of them isn't normal- you LOSE..and you have gestational diabetes. You just went through 3 hours of hangry-ness, swallowing yarf, and 4 needle sticks for nothing. You suck.

In case you haven't already guessed,
I failed the 1 hour test a couple of weeks ago.
And it may or may not have been because I caved and ate a fruit and yogurt parfait before the test.
I was for sure that my healthy little pancreas would keep the secret and take care of it...
but my little pancreas turned out to be a ginormous blabber mouth.

I'm currently in the middle of the 3 hour test.
I'm waiting for stick #3. 
I almost puked up my guts during the last stick.
Not because of the stick...
but because the woman sticking me had dorito breath and dorito debris in her mustache.
Yes I said she had a mustache.
Don't judge me.
I'm hangry.
 
I hope y'all have a fabulous day!
And please know that even though this whole glucose test thing is annoying,
I am SO incredibly thankful to be pregnant! I'm just a little hormonal and hangry ;)

Let's get personal. FOPP.

My husband made a HUGE step today.
I might even venture to say it will change his life forever.
For 27 years, he has had one fear.
A fear that constantly ruins his days.
Sometimes it even controls his life.
It is the fear of public pooping.
We'll call it FOPP for short.

If the urge hits him when he's out in public,
he fights it.
Instead of using the convenient bathrooms that are located in public places,
he chooses pain.
Beads of sweat run down his head,
he releases gases that would have killed Goliath,
and he turns into the most hateful person on earth.
All. Because. He. Refuses. To. Poop.

So I am constantly giving him the Carpe Diem Poop Talk.
It goes something like this:
Tyler, why torture yourself? What do you think public bathrooms are for? I used to have FOPP too, but one day I was like, what the heck, it always smells like poop in there anyway....I might as well go for it. And you know what? It was glorious. Just make a huge nest and seize the day babe. SEIZE THE DAY!
If that speech isn't convincing, I don't know what is....
but it never worked.

But today.
Today I had a few OB appointments.
The first one was at 10am. We live 2 hours away, so we had to leave at 745.
15 minutes into the trip he said,
oh no....I have to do-do....today's gonna be a long day.
I just shook my head and laughed.
Soon it was 11 oclock. And he was crop dusting me like no body's business.
(crop dusting: verb.  The act of briskly walking in-front of someone while letting farts slip out the butt.)
He was right.
It WAS going to be a long day.
At 4 oclock, my appointments were finally finished.
And my husband was still full of do-do.
Not only was he still crop dusting me,
but the sweating and hatefulness had begun.
I was starving. So we went to a buffet. And he added 3 more plates of food to his intestines.
I was sure he was going to die.
We headed home around 5 oclock.
We stopped to fill up the car at 530.
I went into the gas station to pee.
When I came out, I found my car....but my husband was MIA...and the car doors were locked.
I walked back in,
and to my surprise, he was walking out of the bathroom.
We made eye contact.
He had a big grin on his face and gave 2 thumbs up.
He did it.
He conquered his FOPP.
And let me tell you,
from that point on,
he was in SUCH a good mood.
Talking, smiling, laughing....
as happy as a lark.

His My life is going to be so much better.

amazingly overwhelmed

Blogging has taken a major back seat for the past couple of months.
I just can't even begin to describe how overwhelmed I've been.
And when I say overwhelmed, I mean it in the most amazing way.
I'm 6 months pregnant today.
6 months.
That is just so crazy to me. I feel like I just found out. My belly is growing, and I've been feeling her tiny kicks and punches for a couple of months now...but it still doesn't seem real.
I feel like I'm dreaming.
Every time I look down at my belly or feel her kick, I think, is this for real? Was that really a kick? Is there really a baby in there, or am I just getting fat?
Tyler finally got to feel her kick a couple of nights ago. His reaction was the cutest thing ever.  We were laying in bed and I grabbed his hand and put it on my belly. I thought I had waited too long, but she kicked SO hard. He sat straight up and was like OH MY GOSH! I FELT IT! I FELT IT! THAT WAS MY BABY! I've never seen such a goofy grin on his face.
After Tyler told my family about feeling her kick, they ALL wanted to feel it. Since it's impossible for them to feel it all at once, I laid on the couch last night and put the remote on my belly. While everyone's eyes were glued to the remote, she decided she would make them happy and kicked the remote straight up in the air. It was so cool.

Here's a picture of my bump from last week :)

I hope you all have a fabulous Monday!