A year ago we lost Gwen in the mountains. I can't believe it has only been a year. It's crazy.
We had just had a whirlwind couple of weeks with the birth of Tess Leone, complicated surgeries and recoveries, all piled on the stress of Blaine taking the patent bar and Texas state bar. We felt we were in the eye of the hurricane with those stresses behind us and our move across the country looming on the horizon.
We decided to meet the family up at the family cabin near Donut Falls. Our little family arrived a few hours before everyone else did. Blaine decided to take the three big kids up on a hike to Donut Falls while Tess and I went back to the cabin to wait for them.
An hour or so later I was at the cabin with Tess when the rest of the extended family started to trickle in. Amidst the arrivals Blaine came running up to the cabin (which is about half a mile or more away from the Donut Falls trailhead). In all the commotion it came out that he couldn't find Gwen. And he didn't mean that she had wandered off on their walk back to the cabin, she was lost somewhere up on the trail. Lost enough that his only option was to run, carrying Bentley and Ivy, all the way down the trail to drop them off so he could search with more intensity.
The gravity of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. Lost. Like legitimately lost. My nine year old. The nine year old who stubbornly would not change in to jeans before we left and also refused to put on a jacket. It was evening and dusk was fast approaching. It was hard to know what to do. We had no cell reception, we had babies and kids to look after, and limited man power. It was getting cold and dark fast.
Blaine, of course, was long gone, running back up the mountain. I recruited Blaine's mom to watch Tess and the other kids as I ran with all the might my postpartum body could muster. As I was taking off Blaine's brother Nick and his family pulled up. I pleaded for help. We also had a few other cousins able to join in the search. We all took off in different directions with me bringing up the rear.
I was so far behind that I was expecting for any minute to see or hear someone with the good news that Gwen had been found. Or certainly someone had seen her. Every person I asked had seen people looking for her, but not her. Certainly Blaine had found her, I mean, right? Where could she have possibly gone?!
Soon I had worked my way all the way up to where the rest of the search party was convening. No one had found Gwen.
Now, trust me, panic had set in when I first heard she was lost. At that point when she had still not been found a deeper, more intense, horrifying sense of panic set in. This was real. This was happening. We had scoured the entire donut falls trail. She was nowhere.
It was growing ever darker and colder. I tore off down the mountain, set to call search and rescue. We had to drive down to the main canyon road to get reception for me to make the call. It was only a matter of minutes before an officer arrived and gave me a ride back to the trail head.
That really intense sense of panic gave way to downright despair when, upon arrival back at the trail head, she STILL had not been found. Another officer arrived. Everyone in our search group was there except for Nick, Blaine's brother.
Nick had taken off on a fork in the trail that led to Cartiff Mine. He is an elite runner and had been running up that trail during this whole ordeal, which had now been going on over an hour. A few moments after the second officer arrived we heard a loud holler!
The message relayed along down the mountain from person to person that she had been found! Nick had found her way, way, way up on her way to Cartiff. She hadn't even seen another hiker on the trail since she had gotten separated from Blaine. She hadn't even quite realized that she was lost, she was just going forward.
I can feel my heart racing as I relive the story. I feel like I went through a lot of really scary things last year, but that moment, when I really thought she was gone for good - that is #1 on my list of scariest moments ever.
Miracles happen. I am so grateful that they do.
Friday, June 26, 2015
Thursday, December 18, 2014
Family Video
These are my favorite. This was taken the day we moved. So glad we took the time though.
A Year of Miracles
Bassett Family 2014
If I had to choose one word to describe 2014 it would be EXHAUSTING. Bonkers, bananas, wild, painful, and insane also come to mind, but we will stick with exhausting. A few days after the new year started I got my regular 20 week ultrasound, and a puzzling, blurry little spot on that ultrasound kind of rocked our world. Now 2014 is coming to a close and we are ending with another surgery on our little Tess. This year has literally been non-stop. As I wrote out this Christmas card in my head though, I realized that, while on one hand this year has indeed been exhausting (both physically and emotionally), it has also been the most miraculous year of our lives. We've spent more time praying, more time appreciating, and more time counting our blessings than ever before.
* Tess Leone arrived on May 21, 2014. That blurry little spot on the ultrasound turned out to be a sacral dimple with a dermal sinus tract. After a roller coaster of hospital stays, ultrasounds, and an MRI it was determined that the tract (track? I never quite could tell what they were saying) was attached to her spine. Spinal surgery ensued. It was exhausting. I've never worried so much. After her MRI she would NOT wake up. At one point dozens of doctors were in the room flipping through books, shouting things, all while I sat in the corder watching the life slip out of my new baby. I've never prayed so hard. The Miracles- Tess WOKE UP from the sedation after her MRI, it took hours longer than it should have - but she woke up. The surgery was a success! Everything looks as though the lasting impact of this whole experience will be a gnarly scar and a heart overflowing with gratitude.
*Blaine finished law school, took the patent bar, and the Texas state bar. In the midst of the hospital stays, while I sat in a corner anxiously biting my nails and eating Lorna Doone's, Blaine was studying diligently for the patent bar. Which he took in between Tess's MRI date and her surgery. I have no idea how he did that. All the finals, studying and tests were exhausting. The Miracles - He passed! He passed them all, and with flying colors! The man is amazing.
*A couple weeks after Tess's surgery, we took the family on a hike up at donut falls. Through a couple of misunderstandings, Gwen got separated from the group, and we couldn't find her for hours. It was getting dark. Search and rescue was called. The Miracles- we were meeting lots of family members and they arrived just as our panic set in. We had a dozen people scouring the mountain, multiplying our efforts. Among these great people was Blaine's brother Nick, who happens to be an elite runner. He ran and scoured more terrain than I could have covered in a month. Just as the police got to the scene and the sun sunk below the horizon we heard Nick holler that she was found!
*When Tess was three months old we packed up the family and moved to Texas. Several of the rental houses we were interested in fell through. It really seemed and felt like we were making the wrong choice to be moving to Texas at all. The Miracles - We eventually found a great house, in a great neighborhood, with the perfect elementary school, and a great ward family.
*We are in the process now of praying for another miracle as Tess is having surgery on her eyes next Tuesday.
At the close of this exhausting year, we are so grateful. We are grateful for insurance. We are grateful for surgeons. Grateful for pain medication, and nurses and specialists. We are grateful for a paycheck, to have a roof over our heads. We are grateful for family (who dropped everything to take our kids during our hospital stays) and to help us move. Grateful for great friends who prayed on our behalf countless times, and stepped up to help in times of need. And we are so very grateful for "normal days". We didn't get too many of those this year, but I've never really been one to appreciate them before. I am incredibly grateful for all the days that come and go. Ordinary days are the best kind of days.
We are so grateful for the miracles in our lives. We are grateful for our Savior. We really learned this year to rely on our faith and in the Lord. We look forward to celebrating his birth and wish you the Merriest of Christmases!
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Monday, August 18, 2014
Hostage
Well, I certainly had a memorable experience today. My family was held hostage in a KFC in Shiprock, NM.
After an emotional morning of saying goodbye to our extended family, we loaded up the kids and set out on day 1 of our drive to Austin.
We stopped for dinner an hour outside of Farmington, NM (where we were going to be staying for the night). After a quick vote we decided to eat at KFC. It was getting dark and the baby had been screaming throughout the entire last leg of the journey, so I was anxious to feed her as soon as we stopped. I sent Blaine, my parents and the kids inside to order and get started while I fed Tess in the car. My car was facing away from the building. I got cozy feeding Tess and catching up on e-mail and Facebook. I got a text from Aunt Liz (who we were to spend the night with in Farmington). She thought it was funny that we would stop in Shiprock, made it sound like it was a pretty shady place. Ten or fifteen minutes quickly passed and I was ready to head inside to join the family.
I glanced quickly in the rearview mirror and was puzzled to see that all of the lights were out in the KFC. A power outage? That's weird. I noticed there were two flashlights on in the building and people were walking around with them. All of the lights were on at the stores across the street. Something felt very wrong. Why was no one coming out of the building? Certainly if it were dark and the power went out while I was standing in line I would leave. No one was going in or out.
I started to feel a little panicky. I called Blaine but he didn't answer. I could see two or three people in black pants, shirts and hats walking around the restaurant with flashlights. It started to make sense why Blaine didn't answer, and why no one was going in or out. They were being robbed, they were locked in! For all I knew someone had a gun to their heads and they were down on the ground. My heart was racing. Was this really happening? I hopped out of the car. Just then one of the people with flashlights started coming out of the building. I ducked behind my car. It seemed like he was looking around for people who were still in their cars or outside the building. Or in short, he was looking for someone like me. Someone who could see what was going on and alert authorities. I thought my heart would explode as I hid behind the car, it was beating so fast! The guy looked around for a minute and then went back in. It was then that I noticed the giant unmarked white van near the entrance to the store.
I have never been more horrified. This really was happening. What should I do? Speed off in my car with Tess and call police? Charge inside? Hide? Think! Think Kristi Think!
I got in my car and locked the door. Just then I noticed the flashlight guy was coming out of the building again, with someone else this time. My Dad! Oh no! He had my dad. He was standing right behind my dad and shining the flashlight over his shoulder (was he holding my dad at gunpoint? I couldn't tell!) What was going to happen? My Dad came and rapped on the window, "come out. . .you need to come inside now". What? I was certain I was going to die from heart failure. I had been caught. The guy must have seen me when he came out of the building earlier, and demanded someone in the restaurant who knew who was hiding in the van come out and get them with him. I glanced very nervously between my dad and the punk robber who was escorting him out to get me. "They want everyone inside so they can lock the doors" my dad said calmly. What to do! What should I do? Kick the guy? Punch him? Beg him to let me leave the baby outside? Visions of being shot and laying on the floor of the KFC with my kids raced through my head. It took everything I had to not lose control of myself.
The guy told me to lock my car. He shone his flashlight around, as I fumbled for my keys to lock the door. He was likely checking out what goods we had in the car, or looking for my phone (which was stashed in my pocket) to make sure I wouldn't call for help. "Take it all!" I thought "Give me my family and you can have it all!". I didn't say anything. When the guy turned to escort us to the building I quickly pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed 911. As he turned around to check on me I slid my phone in my back pocket before he could see. Dang it! Maybe the operator would be able to track my phone and know someone needed help at that address. That would have to do. At least it was something.
Tears welled in my eyes as we got closer to the building. The man went to open the doors for us but they were locked. One of his partners must have locked the doors again to keep everyone else inside. He ran around to the other side to get someone to unlock the door.
This was my chance!
Should I scream for help? Run? Should I call 911 and risk him seeing me and shooting me? I didn't know how many precious seconds I had until he would turn around and see me. I whispered quickly to my Dad, "are we being robbed?! What is happening?"
"I don't …. think so…" he replied, calmly. He always could keep his cool in times of crisis. I was like, "Dad, it's okay, just tell me what is going on?" my voice trembling. "I don't think anything is going on" he replied, "they just want us to come in so they can lock the doors". Could my dad really be that naive? At least they hadn't hurt him… yet. Bah!
Cautiously glancing around, I shakily dialed 911 again. Hoping I could eeek out some information before the guy came back. They answered, "I think we are being robbed!" I wailed. "They cut the power at the KFC and they are locking everyone inside!" The operator quickly said, "well the power is out on a big block in Shiprock". Oh great, they like… blew up a whole transformer or something! My mind was racing. "They came out to get me from my parked car to bring me in and lock me inside!" I insisted.
And it was then that Blaine came out the front door. Annnnnd…. only when he told me that no, everything was fine. . . the power was just out, that I burst in to tears and collapsed in his arms. He was very, very perplexed. As you would be if you had been inside the KFC and had the whole thing happen from that perspective.
I still can't even process it. The whole situation was SO WEIRD. There was never any danger. Apparently the power had gone off right after my family got their food, and it was off on the whole block, but still on across the street (what I had used for comparison). My Dad overheard the employees (whose uniforms were black pants, black shirts and black hats) talking about how it was protocol to lock all the doors if the power goes out to make sure they don't get robbed, so he got an employee to come with him out to get me before he locked the doors. The employee was trying to be nice and shining his flashlight around my van so I could find my keys and get what I needed. Who knows who was driving the giant white unmarked van. The kids were being crazy which is why Blaine never picked up his phone.
Talk about a series of unfortunate events.
I seriously lost about ten years of my life.
And I am pretty glad that I didn't try to bargain with the robber/KFC employee to spare the life of my family in exchange for my van and all of it's contents. That would have been a real win for him, seeing as he had no interest in taking the lives of my family. And also glad I didn't bust out my kickboxing moves on him.
Sheesh. Why do these things happen to me? And on the bright side, nothing makes a day brighter than the beautiful realization that you and your family are actually NOT being held hostage at a KFC in Shiprock, NM.
The End.
After an emotional morning of saying goodbye to our extended family, we loaded up the kids and set out on day 1 of our drive to Austin.
We stopped for dinner an hour outside of Farmington, NM (where we were going to be staying for the night). After a quick vote we decided to eat at KFC. It was getting dark and the baby had been screaming throughout the entire last leg of the journey, so I was anxious to feed her as soon as we stopped. I sent Blaine, my parents and the kids inside to order and get started while I fed Tess in the car. My car was facing away from the building. I got cozy feeding Tess and catching up on e-mail and Facebook. I got a text from Aunt Liz (who we were to spend the night with in Farmington). She thought it was funny that we would stop in Shiprock, made it sound like it was a pretty shady place. Ten or fifteen minutes quickly passed and I was ready to head inside to join the family.
I glanced quickly in the rearview mirror and was puzzled to see that all of the lights were out in the KFC. A power outage? That's weird. I noticed there were two flashlights on in the building and people were walking around with them. All of the lights were on at the stores across the street. Something felt very wrong. Why was no one coming out of the building? Certainly if it were dark and the power went out while I was standing in line I would leave. No one was going in or out.
I started to feel a little panicky. I called Blaine but he didn't answer. I could see two or three people in black pants, shirts and hats walking around the restaurant with flashlights. It started to make sense why Blaine didn't answer, and why no one was going in or out. They were being robbed, they were locked in! For all I knew someone had a gun to their heads and they were down on the ground. My heart was racing. Was this really happening? I hopped out of the car. Just then one of the people with flashlights started coming out of the building. I ducked behind my car. It seemed like he was looking around for people who were still in their cars or outside the building. Or in short, he was looking for someone like me. Someone who could see what was going on and alert authorities. I thought my heart would explode as I hid behind the car, it was beating so fast! The guy looked around for a minute and then went back in. It was then that I noticed the giant unmarked white van near the entrance to the store.
I have never been more horrified. This really was happening. What should I do? Speed off in my car with Tess and call police? Charge inside? Hide? Think! Think Kristi Think!
I got in my car and locked the door. Just then I noticed the flashlight guy was coming out of the building again, with someone else this time. My Dad! Oh no! He had my dad. He was standing right behind my dad and shining the flashlight over his shoulder (was he holding my dad at gunpoint? I couldn't tell!) What was going to happen? My Dad came and rapped on the window, "come out. . .you need to come inside now". What? I was certain I was going to die from heart failure. I had been caught. The guy must have seen me when he came out of the building earlier, and demanded someone in the restaurant who knew who was hiding in the van come out and get them with him. I glanced very nervously between my dad and the punk robber who was escorting him out to get me. "They want everyone inside so they can lock the doors" my dad said calmly. What to do! What should I do? Kick the guy? Punch him? Beg him to let me leave the baby outside? Visions of being shot and laying on the floor of the KFC with my kids raced through my head. It took everything I had to not lose control of myself.
The guy told me to lock my car. He shone his flashlight around, as I fumbled for my keys to lock the door. He was likely checking out what goods we had in the car, or looking for my phone (which was stashed in my pocket) to make sure I wouldn't call for help. "Take it all!" I thought "Give me my family and you can have it all!". I didn't say anything. When the guy turned to escort us to the building I quickly pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed 911. As he turned around to check on me I slid my phone in my back pocket before he could see. Dang it! Maybe the operator would be able to track my phone and know someone needed help at that address. That would have to do. At least it was something.
Tears welled in my eyes as we got closer to the building. The man went to open the doors for us but they were locked. One of his partners must have locked the doors again to keep everyone else inside. He ran around to the other side to get someone to unlock the door.
This was my chance!
Should I scream for help? Run? Should I call 911 and risk him seeing me and shooting me? I didn't know how many precious seconds I had until he would turn around and see me. I whispered quickly to my Dad, "are we being robbed?! What is happening?"
"I don't …. think so…" he replied, calmly. He always could keep his cool in times of crisis. I was like, "Dad, it's okay, just tell me what is going on?" my voice trembling. "I don't think anything is going on" he replied, "they just want us to come in so they can lock the doors". Could my dad really be that naive? At least they hadn't hurt him… yet. Bah!
Cautiously glancing around, I shakily dialed 911 again. Hoping I could eeek out some information before the guy came back. They answered, "I think we are being robbed!" I wailed. "They cut the power at the KFC and they are locking everyone inside!" The operator quickly said, "well the power is out on a big block in Shiprock". Oh great, they like… blew up a whole transformer or something! My mind was racing. "They came out to get me from my parked car to bring me in and lock me inside!" I insisted.
And it was then that Blaine came out the front door. Annnnnd…. only when he told me that no, everything was fine. . . the power was just out, that I burst in to tears and collapsed in his arms. He was very, very perplexed. As you would be if you had been inside the KFC and had the whole thing happen from that perspective.
I still can't even process it. The whole situation was SO WEIRD. There was never any danger. Apparently the power had gone off right after my family got their food, and it was off on the whole block, but still on across the street (what I had used for comparison). My Dad overheard the employees (whose uniforms were black pants, black shirts and black hats) talking about how it was protocol to lock all the doors if the power goes out to make sure they don't get robbed, so he got an employee to come with him out to get me before he locked the doors. The employee was trying to be nice and shining his flashlight around my van so I could find my keys and get what I needed. Who knows who was driving the giant white unmarked van. The kids were being crazy which is why Blaine never picked up his phone.
Talk about a series of unfortunate events.
I seriously lost about ten years of my life.
And I am pretty glad that I didn't try to bargain with the robber/KFC employee to spare the life of my family in exchange for my van and all of it's contents. That would have been a real win for him, seeing as he had no interest in taking the lives of my family. And also glad I didn't bust out my kickboxing moves on him.
Sheesh. Why do these things happen to me? And on the bright side, nothing makes a day brighter than the beautiful realization that you and your family are actually NOT being held hostage at a KFC in Shiprock, NM.
The End.
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
A Birth Story . . .
Wow, two posts in a year, I am really killing it in the blogging department :). You know, I remember at one point finding my dad's old journal and reading through it. I realized that there had only been one entry in my entire life, shortly after I was born. At the time I was deeply offended, but the older I get and the more kids I have the more I am thoroughly impressed that he even had a journal, let alone that he wrote in it after I (the caboose of the family) was born.
With my first three kids I had written their birth story within hours of their arrival. I can't on earth figure out how I had the time and gumption to do that. Tess is now over a month old and if she is asleep then I am trying to sleep and if she is awake it's all I can do to pull my eyes off of her to accomplish anything. Plus, she really likes being held and really doesn't like anything else. And, truthfully, I don't mind. I realize now how quickly she is going to grow and so I indulge myself in holding her almost all of the time. Yeah, the house is a total disaster and we have absolutely made no progress on how we are going to move our household from here to Texas in about six weeks. I bet I will blissfully keep neglecting my other duties as long as possible. Babies were meant to be savored.
So yah, since my last post I managed to get pregnant, endure (not well) a very miserable pregnancy and finally birth a beautiful baby. It's a lot more complicated than I make it sound there, there were complications, sleepless nights of worry and prayer, ultrasounds, NSTs, meetings with perinatologists and calls from genetic counselors. And everything has revolved around the complications, but I kind of just want to post her birth story. You know, one without all of those stresses. So hopefully I will post more about the trials and miracles of her gestation and birth and first month... but not today.
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I scheduled my induction about two weeks beforehand. I was feeling all self righteous and didn't want anyone to know I was getting induced. You might wonder why, and the short answer is that I think I am a nut case. We have always kept the name of our babies a secret (even our list of possible names). Somehow though my older kids got wind of the names I was considering and all converged on one name from the list. Tess. And then when said complications arose they prayed mightily for "Tessie" and talked about her and to her and...how could I possibly name her anything else after all of that? The problem was they were open with the name Tess and before long everyone who was anyone knew that her name was going to be Tess. I didn't like that. I like having a surprise name announcement. So much so that I almost named her something else simply because so many people knew about Tess. All this is to say that because many people knew the name I channeled all of my energy in to making her arrival a surprise.
The logical way to do that would probably have been to not schedule an induction at all and let nature take its course, but when push comes to shove if someone hands me a "get out of pregnancy a week or more early" card I take it.
So my induction was to take place on May 21st. I had to tell my parents so that someone could come and watch the kids. We held off telling anyone else though, which I was pretty proud of. My parents came early the night before so Blaine and I could go on our traditional "night before induction" date. We went out to dinner at The Cheesecake Factory, and then grabbed an Italian Ice at Rita's. We were going to go to a movie but I was just. SO. TIRED. And knowing that it would probably be a good four or more years until I would get a decent night of sleep again, we headed home at about 10:30PM. It was kind of a fun surprise to arrive home and find our kids all still awake (this was a school night) watching a movie with Grandma and Grandpa. What can I say? My parents are partiers.
We woke up early and headed to the hospital for our 7AM induction. We had chosen to deliver at Orem Community Hospital on the good recommendation of Laurie, plus the fries at their snack bar are to-die-for good.
I started getting awfully nervous about the whole thing. I did a lot more thinking about this pregnancy than the others, as, barring any heavenly messengers commanding us otherwise, this will be our last. Did I want an epidural? Did I even really want to be induced? Lots of time thinking about this things. They quickly got me hooked up to an IV and got the pitocin going. It was kind of a fun feeling being there and starting labor and no one even knowing. We felt very sneaky. I'm so weird.
Deep down I know I am an epidural type of girl. I have a pain tolerance of about zero. With the other kids I asked for the epidural as soon as they would give it to me (because I knew I would cave eventually, and if you are going to cave eventually there is no sense in trying to be a hero for a while). But this time I thought I would give it a go and see how long I could make it. Try to really experience labor for as long as I could. Who knew, maybe I would surprise myself.
It took a bit for the contractions to get going, and once they did I was just so darn proud of myself for breathing through them. Maybe I really was a hero. The baby's heartbeat was doing weird things. It would speed way up and slow way down. It was all over the map. They had me flip sides and do all sorts of things to try to get it to regulate. I believe they eventually put something in my IV to help. Things were all quiet when I told Blaine it would be okay for him to go and get some food.
Sure enough as soon as he left things kind of went to pot. The heart rate was even more erratic. People came in, they put me on oxygen. And the really ironic thing is that the exact same thing happened with at least Ivy, and Gwen, if not all three other kids. Blaine leaves and chaos sets in. Just a fact of life I guess.
They decided they better put on an internal monitor on the baby (you know, the one they poke into the baby's head. Sad.). And this is where the details are a little fuzzy. It seems like they did this before breaking my water, but wouldn't the act of doing that break my water? No idea. At some point they put on a monitor and things seemed less traumatic after that.
So by 10:30AM I was still busy proving what a capable birther I was by not getting an epidural. Sure the contractions were painful, but nothing I couldn't handle with a little dramatic breathing. Then my OBGYN waltzes in, "hey sorry I am late! You ready to get this party started?!". And there I was, like an idiot, thinking the party had already been going for some three hours.
So he breaks my water.
And oh was there ever water! Water and water, from the expressions of amazement from all in the room you'd think I nearly flooded the hospital. So. Much. Water. Everyone was duly impressed.
I've read a million times how contractions get worse once your water is broken. And let me just tell you, they aren't kidding. The very first contraction after that basically had me in tears and washed away any superhero resolves I had. Epidural, Stat! Seriously. The party had started.
My OB had made it sound like the anesthesiologist was waiting in the hall for me to say the word. Wrong. I begged and pleaded with Blaine to find the guy and drag him in! It took like almost an hour to get the guy in. And I know that isn't a super long time, but I am convinced this was the most painful labor ever experienced so it felt like an eternity. I wanted to go back in time and slap the earlier version of myself who no less than five times told the nurse that "no, no epidural yet, I'm doing jussssst fineeeee". Why self? Why?.
Then once the anesthesiologist and his partner (who was not actually his partner but turned out to be my new nurse...but I didn't know that) arrived it took forever to get the epi in place. They were sitting there talking about the most random lame things, like where to get good mexican food, and where they were going to go on vacation. I was gritting my teeth and just really wishing we could all focus on the task at hand. I could tell they were trying to get my mind off of the pain by asking me questions, which I refused to answer. Poor Blaine, he kept apologizing "I'm sorry, she's normally very friendly... I think she's in a lot of pain". Yeah, I was. They had me sit up, which was a little better. But man, it took them an hour to place the epidural, an hour! In my past experience it seems like it normally took like ten minutes max. The guy was having some trouble placing the catheter? Or something. But that didn't stop him from discussing with my nurse where the best salsa in Utah County could be found. I was thinking all sorts of mean thoughts like, "oh yeah let's talk about salsa while we mess around with the nerves in my back, that's a brilliant idea". Anyway, definitely not my finest hour and I was sure I was going to die from the epidural being placed wrong because no one was focusing on their jobs ;)
So there we were at like noon with an epidural in place and sweet relief flowing through. I apologized to my nurse for being mean. It's amazing how much more I liked her once I had an epidural. She was totally great. Pain can be really blinding.
I think my contraction monitor must have fallen off or slightly off or something because I couldn't feel my contractions and according to the monitor I wasn't really having any. But I must have been because all of the sudden I was a ten! Then there was my OB again. And it was time to push. Would I push for three hours like with Gwen? Ten seconds like Bentley? I always expect it to take a long time. And again the OB and my nurse were discussing good places to go eat. I don't know what it is about me giving birth that inspires these conversations :). Anyway, it was a matter of a few pushes, like say six, and she was here! 2:05PM 5/21/2014.
I am always amazed at the incredible relief I feel immediately after my babies are born. Pregnancy is so cruel to me, and immediately after the baby is born I start feeling better. She cried her little newborn cry and I just couldn't believe that she was finally here! Finally! And she was okay! And she looked beautiful! And it was over, I never have to be pregnant again :). It was amazing to just sit and marvel. A baby girl. My third girl. I have three girls and one boy. I spent so many nights as a kid dreaming about my future family, wondering how many boys and girls I would have. What they would look like. Finally they are all here and I know and love them all.
9lbs 6 oz, 20.5 inches. My biggest baby yet. And later I would be so grateful for every one of those blessed ounces as she still had so much to endure ahead of her. But that's another story for another day.
With my first three kids I had written their birth story within hours of their arrival. I can't on earth figure out how I had the time and gumption to do that. Tess is now over a month old and if she is asleep then I am trying to sleep and if she is awake it's all I can do to pull my eyes off of her to accomplish anything. Plus, she really likes being held and really doesn't like anything else. And, truthfully, I don't mind. I realize now how quickly she is going to grow and so I indulge myself in holding her almost all of the time. Yeah, the house is a total disaster and we have absolutely made no progress on how we are going to move our household from here to Texas in about six weeks. I bet I will blissfully keep neglecting my other duties as long as possible. Babies were meant to be savored.
So yah, since my last post I managed to get pregnant, endure (not well) a very miserable pregnancy and finally birth a beautiful baby. It's a lot more complicated than I make it sound there, there were complications, sleepless nights of worry and prayer, ultrasounds, NSTs, meetings with perinatologists and calls from genetic counselors. And everything has revolved around the complications, but I kind of just want to post her birth story. You know, one without all of those stresses. So hopefully I will post more about the trials and miracles of her gestation and birth and first month... but not today.
----
I scheduled my induction about two weeks beforehand. I was feeling all self righteous and didn't want anyone to know I was getting induced. You might wonder why, and the short answer is that I think I am a nut case. We have always kept the name of our babies a secret (even our list of possible names). Somehow though my older kids got wind of the names I was considering and all converged on one name from the list. Tess. And then when said complications arose they prayed mightily for "Tessie" and talked about her and to her and...how could I possibly name her anything else after all of that? The problem was they were open with the name Tess and before long everyone who was anyone knew that her name was going to be Tess. I didn't like that. I like having a surprise name announcement. So much so that I almost named her something else simply because so many people knew about Tess. All this is to say that because many people knew the name I channeled all of my energy in to making her arrival a surprise.
The logical way to do that would probably have been to not schedule an induction at all and let nature take its course, but when push comes to shove if someone hands me a "get out of pregnancy a week or more early" card I take it.
So my induction was to take place on May 21st. I had to tell my parents so that someone could come and watch the kids. We held off telling anyone else though, which I was pretty proud of. My parents came early the night before so Blaine and I could go on our traditional "night before induction" date. We went out to dinner at The Cheesecake Factory, and then grabbed an Italian Ice at Rita's. We were going to go to a movie but I was just. SO. TIRED. And knowing that it would probably be a good four or more years until I would get a decent night of sleep again, we headed home at about 10:30PM. It was kind of a fun surprise to arrive home and find our kids all still awake (this was a school night) watching a movie with Grandma and Grandpa. What can I say? My parents are partiers.
We woke up early and headed to the hospital for our 7AM induction. We had chosen to deliver at Orem Community Hospital on the good recommendation of Laurie, plus the fries at their snack bar are to-die-for good.
I started getting awfully nervous about the whole thing. I did a lot more thinking about this pregnancy than the others, as, barring any heavenly messengers commanding us otherwise, this will be our last. Did I want an epidural? Did I even really want to be induced? Lots of time thinking about this things. They quickly got me hooked up to an IV and got the pitocin going. It was kind of a fun feeling being there and starting labor and no one even knowing. We felt very sneaky. I'm so weird.
Deep down I know I am an epidural type of girl. I have a pain tolerance of about zero. With the other kids I asked for the epidural as soon as they would give it to me (because I knew I would cave eventually, and if you are going to cave eventually there is no sense in trying to be a hero for a while). But this time I thought I would give it a go and see how long I could make it. Try to really experience labor for as long as I could. Who knew, maybe I would surprise myself.
It took a bit for the contractions to get going, and once they did I was just so darn proud of myself for breathing through them. Maybe I really was a hero. The baby's heartbeat was doing weird things. It would speed way up and slow way down. It was all over the map. They had me flip sides and do all sorts of things to try to get it to regulate. I believe they eventually put something in my IV to help. Things were all quiet when I told Blaine it would be okay for him to go and get some food.
Sure enough as soon as he left things kind of went to pot. The heart rate was even more erratic. People came in, they put me on oxygen. And the really ironic thing is that the exact same thing happened with at least Ivy, and Gwen, if not all three other kids. Blaine leaves and chaos sets in. Just a fact of life I guess.
They decided they better put on an internal monitor on the baby (you know, the one they poke into the baby's head. Sad.). And this is where the details are a little fuzzy. It seems like they did this before breaking my water, but wouldn't the act of doing that break my water? No idea. At some point they put on a monitor and things seemed less traumatic after that.
So by 10:30AM I was still busy proving what a capable birther I was by not getting an epidural. Sure the contractions were painful, but nothing I couldn't handle with a little dramatic breathing. Then my OBGYN waltzes in, "hey sorry I am late! You ready to get this party started?!". And there I was, like an idiot, thinking the party had already been going for some three hours.
So he breaks my water.
And oh was there ever water! Water and water, from the expressions of amazement from all in the room you'd think I nearly flooded the hospital. So. Much. Water. Everyone was duly impressed.
I've read a million times how contractions get worse once your water is broken. And let me just tell you, they aren't kidding. The very first contraction after that basically had me in tears and washed away any superhero resolves I had. Epidural, Stat! Seriously. The party had started.
My OB had made it sound like the anesthesiologist was waiting in the hall for me to say the word. Wrong. I begged and pleaded with Blaine to find the guy and drag him in! It took like almost an hour to get the guy in. And I know that isn't a super long time, but I am convinced this was the most painful labor ever experienced so it felt like an eternity. I wanted to go back in time and slap the earlier version of myself who no less than five times told the nurse that "no, no epidural yet, I'm doing jussssst fineeeee". Why self? Why?.
Then once the anesthesiologist and his partner (who was not actually his partner but turned out to be my new nurse...but I didn't know that) arrived it took forever to get the epi in place. They were sitting there talking about the most random lame things, like where to get good mexican food, and where they were going to go on vacation. I was gritting my teeth and just really wishing we could all focus on the task at hand. I could tell they were trying to get my mind off of the pain by asking me questions, which I refused to answer. Poor Blaine, he kept apologizing "I'm sorry, she's normally very friendly... I think she's in a lot of pain". Yeah, I was. They had me sit up, which was a little better. But man, it took them an hour to place the epidural, an hour! In my past experience it seems like it normally took like ten minutes max. The guy was having some trouble placing the catheter? Or something. But that didn't stop him from discussing with my nurse where the best salsa in Utah County could be found. I was thinking all sorts of mean thoughts like, "oh yeah let's talk about salsa while we mess around with the nerves in my back, that's a brilliant idea". Anyway, definitely not my finest hour and I was sure I was going to die from the epidural being placed wrong because no one was focusing on their jobs ;)
So there we were at like noon with an epidural in place and sweet relief flowing through. I apologized to my nurse for being mean. It's amazing how much more I liked her once I had an epidural. She was totally great. Pain can be really blinding.
I think my contraction monitor must have fallen off or slightly off or something because I couldn't feel my contractions and according to the monitor I wasn't really having any. But I must have been because all of the sudden I was a ten! Then there was my OB again. And it was time to push. Would I push for three hours like with Gwen? Ten seconds like Bentley? I always expect it to take a long time. And again the OB and my nurse were discussing good places to go eat. I don't know what it is about me giving birth that inspires these conversations :). Anyway, it was a matter of a few pushes, like say six, and she was here! 2:05PM 5/21/2014.
I am always amazed at the incredible relief I feel immediately after my babies are born. Pregnancy is so cruel to me, and immediately after the baby is born I start feeling better. She cried her little newborn cry and I just couldn't believe that she was finally here! Finally! And she was okay! And she looked beautiful! And it was over, I never have to be pregnant again :). It was amazing to just sit and marvel. A baby girl. My third girl. I have three girls and one boy. I spent so many nights as a kid dreaming about my future family, wondering how many boys and girls I would have. What they would look like. Finally they are all here and I know and love them all.
9lbs 6 oz, 20.5 inches. My biggest baby yet. And later I would be so grateful for every one of those blessed ounces as she still had so much to endure ahead of her. But that's another story for another day.
Friday, September 6, 2013
Be Careful What You Ask For
Because you just might get it.
Oh sure, it might be a good four or five years later, when you aren't entirely sure that that is what you want anymore, but whatever :)
Why was the move from Texas to Utah so hard for me. I've pondered that a lot, especially lately. Do I hate Utah? Nope. It's gorgeous (though I'm the first to admit that snow is only fun for like 24 hours, maybe 48 tops). Do I hate family? Nope, quite like them actually. I love having my kids know their grandparents and extended family members better. So, what was my problem moving back here? Why did I spend my entire first year of living in Utah pining away for Texas?
I have a few ideas -
* Having to rent our house out in Texas, and having the first renters be complete morons who smoked in our house and had three Rottweilers and payed rent intermittently and partially, at best.
* Having three young children at home and no one in school. That's a rough year no matter where you live.
* Moving in to a mouse infested, dark basement apartment
* Having that basement apartment be in a neighborhood where every other resident was about 10-15 years older and earned about ten times more a year than we did. It took me a while to realize that we didn't just move in to a bum ward-- we were just not at the same stage of life as those people. Someone who is home all day with three small kids NEEDS playgroups and joyschools, etc. Someone who has all of their kids off at school does not. There were, honestly, only two other girls who were home all day with very young children. And I love them both still to this day :)
* Leaving a life behind that I loved. So, I built a life in Texas. I had friends and neighbors who I loved. I had things I did. I had a routine. I had a life. Anytime you move away from a life you have taken years to build it is a little heartbreaking.
So all of that combined in to a crazy depression cycle. It only lasted about a year. And then a bunch of things changed, all at once. So I am not sure what to credit for pulling me out of the doldrums.
*We moved in to a light and bright house. Sure it had the occasional mouse, like once a year. Not the six a day we caught through our entire nine month tenure in the mouse house.
* Gwen started kindergarten. Much rejoicing.
* I joined the gym! I was getting physical exercise for myself and a break from my children (a break where they got to have tons of fun!). Best decision I ever made! And seriously it is going to be my new advice for first time moms. "There are magical places that will watch your children for an hour or two so you can shower in peace! Or read a book on a sofa in peace! Or stare at a wall in peace! Or, if you are feeling extremely motivated-- workout - IN PEACE!". Ha ha. Seriously though, I was a member of Lifetime Fitness for at least a month before I actually worked out. I'd check in the kids, slip in the hot tub and soak my problems away. It was dreamy.
* We got new renters in our Texas house. I still wake up in a cold sweat on the first of every month, stressed about whether the rent check will come in... and it always does. I am so grateful for the new people that moved in to my Texas house. I don't know that anyone will ever understand the extreme anxiety that our first renters put upon me.
So life got better. I met some amazing friends. We've loved the law school experience. My kids are growing up and are not so completely reliant on me for everything.
Life is good.
I love a good adventure. You know I do. I loved living in Oregon, Minnesota, Texas and Utah. Each place has introduced me to amazing people, given me a new perspective, helped me figure out who I am, and on and on. But as I am getting older, and more importantly, as my kids are getting older. I find myself longing to just stay put. Let my kids attend the same school for two years in a row. That kind of thing.
It's taken me a couple years but I finally have a crazy group of friends, who I love. A dear friend from Minnesota moved in, five minutes away! I am meeting people weekly in this ward who I adore. Saratoga Springs is just gorgeous, and amazing. My kids are happy in school. I live on a cul-de-sac. There's an 11 year-old who LOVES to babysit, right next door! The houses in this neighborhood are so generously spaced out, it's fantastic. We go hiking. We go camping with my sister (having a sister with a trailer and a lot of camping supplies is a great thing to have!). We spend Sunday nights chatting away at our parents houses. I am comfortable!
I mean, sure, a paycheck would be nice and all....but...so comfortable!
And so of course, now, a good three years since my daily pining for Texas, now we go and decide to move back. Now, when I am pretty sure I will bawl my eyes out for a good few months or years.
Life is crazy sometimes.
But, we got this.
(Remind me of that when I am huddling in my closet during a Texas thunderstorm *shudder* - that's one thing I never missed :)).
I got this.
Oh sure, it might be a good four or five years later, when you aren't entirely sure that that is what you want anymore, but whatever :)
Why was the move from Texas to Utah so hard for me. I've pondered that a lot, especially lately. Do I hate Utah? Nope. It's gorgeous (though I'm the first to admit that snow is only fun for like 24 hours, maybe 48 tops). Do I hate family? Nope, quite like them actually. I love having my kids know their grandparents and extended family members better. So, what was my problem moving back here? Why did I spend my entire first year of living in Utah pining away for Texas?
I have a few ideas -
* Having to rent our house out in Texas, and having the first renters be complete morons who smoked in our house and had three Rottweilers and payed rent intermittently and partially, at best.
* Having three young children at home and no one in school. That's a rough year no matter where you live.
* Moving in to a mouse infested, dark basement apartment
* Having that basement apartment be in a neighborhood where every other resident was about 10-15 years older and earned about ten times more a year than we did. It took me a while to realize that we didn't just move in to a bum ward-- we were just not at the same stage of life as those people. Someone who is home all day with three small kids NEEDS playgroups and joyschools, etc. Someone who has all of their kids off at school does not. There were, honestly, only two other girls who were home all day with very young children. And I love them both still to this day :)
* Leaving a life behind that I loved. So, I built a life in Texas. I had friends and neighbors who I loved. I had things I did. I had a routine. I had a life. Anytime you move away from a life you have taken years to build it is a little heartbreaking.
So all of that combined in to a crazy depression cycle. It only lasted about a year. And then a bunch of things changed, all at once. So I am not sure what to credit for pulling me out of the doldrums.
*We moved in to a light and bright house. Sure it had the occasional mouse, like once a year. Not the six a day we caught through our entire nine month tenure in the mouse house.
* Gwen started kindergarten. Much rejoicing.
* I joined the gym! I was getting physical exercise for myself and a break from my children (a break where they got to have tons of fun!). Best decision I ever made! And seriously it is going to be my new advice for first time moms. "There are magical places that will watch your children for an hour or two so you can shower in peace! Or read a book on a sofa in peace! Or stare at a wall in peace! Or, if you are feeling extremely motivated-- workout - IN PEACE!". Ha ha. Seriously though, I was a member of Lifetime Fitness for at least a month before I actually worked out. I'd check in the kids, slip in the hot tub and soak my problems away. It was dreamy.
* We got new renters in our Texas house. I still wake up in a cold sweat on the first of every month, stressed about whether the rent check will come in... and it always does. I am so grateful for the new people that moved in to my Texas house. I don't know that anyone will ever understand the extreme anxiety that our first renters put upon me.
So life got better. I met some amazing friends. We've loved the law school experience. My kids are growing up and are not so completely reliant on me for everything.
Life is good.
I love a good adventure. You know I do. I loved living in Oregon, Minnesota, Texas and Utah. Each place has introduced me to amazing people, given me a new perspective, helped me figure out who I am, and on and on. But as I am getting older, and more importantly, as my kids are getting older. I find myself longing to just stay put. Let my kids attend the same school for two years in a row. That kind of thing.
It's taken me a couple years but I finally have a crazy group of friends, who I love. A dear friend from Minnesota moved in, five minutes away! I am meeting people weekly in this ward who I adore. Saratoga Springs is just gorgeous, and amazing. My kids are happy in school. I live on a cul-de-sac. There's an 11 year-old who LOVES to babysit, right next door! The houses in this neighborhood are so generously spaced out, it's fantastic. We go hiking. We go camping with my sister (having a sister with a trailer and a lot of camping supplies is a great thing to have!). We spend Sunday nights chatting away at our parents houses. I am comfortable!
I mean, sure, a paycheck would be nice and all....but...so comfortable!
And so of course, now, a good three years since my daily pining for Texas, now we go and decide to move back. Now, when I am pretty sure I will bawl my eyes out for a good few months or years.
Life is crazy sometimes.
But, we got this.
(Remind me of that when I am huddling in my closet during a Texas thunderstorm *shudder* - that's one thing I never missed :)).
I got this.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
Due
I had big plans for today. At one point I was planning on being in a hospital and snuggling a brand new baby today, August 25th. It was a perfect day for that. Blaine would have just finished his last summer externship, and school wouldn't have quite started yet, and perhaps best of all, with a late summer birthday I would finally have a child who started kindergarten shortly after turning five, rather than when they were about to turn six.
It wasn't an easy decision to try for another baby. In fact the only thing that got me through being pregnant with Ivy was that I was DONE. Finished. That was my last pregnancy. I never had to do that again. That also got me through the three whirlwind years of Ben and Ivy's toddlerhood. It was rough going there for a while, my hands were full and survival was my only goal. I survived. Barely. The decision to go for a fourth was one four years (and lots of thinking and praying) in the making.
I was quite shocked, actually, when I saw the two lines on the pregnancy test. I've never had such a whirlwind of emotions. I went from disbelief, to being terrified. It's been a while folks. I've grown quite accustomed to sleeping through the night, not carrying a stroller around, that kind of thing. Plus -- Ivy is almost in kindergarten. I am almost to the point that I would dream about incessantly, when I was in the trenches of diapers and midnight rocking. I dreamt of sending Ivy to school one day and then finally having the time and energy to do something beyond mothering. To go back to school, to get a job, to find fulfillment in something additional to motherhood. I love being a mom, and I am grateful that I have been able to stay home with my little ones -- but for some reason I longed for a little outside-the-home fulfillment, or even just interaction. But, to my surprise, the being terrified part of pregnancy only lasted a matter of maybe twenty minutes. I mean, sure, I could still feel the terror down deep inside, but the dominant emotion quickly became excitement. The doodle endless lists of amazing baby names excitement.
Seeing my kids older now and realizing how much I love them and their personalities made me all the more excited to have a new baby. Back when the three of them were born I had no idea what was going on. I couldn't see past the fact that I was just having a baby. I couldn't ever envision the baby growing up to be a funny, cute, amazing kid. I never relished being pregnant. I just tried to make it through each day. Survival. But this time was different. This time I didn't feel in such a daze. I was able to marvel that there was a human being growing inside of me. A really cute human being who would add so much to this family and to the world. All of my kids are so unique and different from each other, it was fun to ponder what a new little Bassett would be like. Deep thinking like Gwen? Wild and fearless like Ivy? Kindhearted and energetic like Ben? Endless possibilities. And perhaps the most exciting (and at the same time most terrifying) thing of all was thinking of my three kids being able to interact with a new sibling. They were all just babies themselves when I had Ivy so there was no positive interaction, just a lot of poking and pacifier stealing :).
I felt great. That was actually my first clue that something was wrong. It really was. Normally I get deathly ill at like week 3 (bet you didn't even know that was possible, right? ha!). I found out I was pregnant the day after Christmas. I felt like a time bomb, wondering when I would first feel my stomach turn and when I would have to resign myself over to the throes of six months of all day long sickness. Wasn't looking forward to that.
But, it didn't come. I was exercising every day, eating whatever I pleased (a welcome relief from the 17 day diet we were doing at the time).
I knew something was wrong. I wanted to believe that a vomitless pregnancy was possible for me, but deep down I knew better.
In fact, feeling so great was of such concern to me that I kind of found myself hoping to feel queasy, something to prove that something was happening inside of me. I was so worried about not being sick that I called around to find a doctor who would take me as early in my pregnancy as possible. I just needed to hear a heartbeat, then I would stop worrying and just start getting excited, once I knew it was real (the twelve pregnancy tests and blood draw were not enough apparently).
Because of my apprehension, we didn't tell many people. I was nine weeks, it was a record breaking amount of time for us to not make an announcement (normally I have to announce when I apologize to people for tossing my cookies approximately every thirty seconds).
The day of my first appointment things started happening to lead me to believe that something was definitely wrong. I told the people at the front desk that I thought I might be miscarrying (side note -- no sympathy at all was offered, they just said, "okay, we will let the doctor know"). Did an ultrasound. The doctor looked at it, and said I was measuring at six weeks and they couldn't find a heartbeat, but that that wasn't necessarily abnormal at only six weeks. But from the looks of the ultrasound it looked as though I "might" be miscarrying. Come back in two weeks. The thing is-- I knew I was 9 weeks- almost 10. So if the baby was only measuring six with no heartbeat, well, yeah, I was pretty darn sure the baby had been gone for three weeks, which explains why I never got sick.
Not 12 hours later I knew there would be no going back in two weeks. It was definitely over. (Side note: Miscarrying is amazingly painful, I had no idea that that early on it would be such an ordeal. So much pain!). I was really grateful that I had been emotional prepared for this to happen. I just felt like I knew it would, and it kind of felt like that made it easier when it actually happened. I didn't even shed a tear. I made myself feel better by thinking that since the baby only measured at six weeks it's heart never even started beating at all. It was never a baby, it never got that far. That's what I told myself.
I was back in the doctors office two weeks later. Just to make sure everything was all...cleaned out I guess. And for some reason that is when it hit me. I climbed up, the tech put the cold ultrasound stuff on my belly....and I stared at a blank screen. You shouldn't see blank screens when you get an ultrasound. I guess deep down I was hoping that somehow I hadn't actually miscarried, that maybe there was some chance that everything was fine. But seeing a blank ultrasound...yeah, no denying it now. That was the first time I cried. And then I started thinking about "that thing that happened" as an actual baby, started thinking that maybe the heart had, in fact, started beating . . . and then stopped. And whoa baby, I just cried it all out.
Months later Blaine asked if I ever still thought about the miscarriage. "Uh....yeah, only EVERY SINGLE DAY!" was my response. Did he really not think about it every day? Weird.
It was kind of hard when people started announcing their pregnancies and their due dates were close to mine. Harder still when they all had ultrasound pictures to show.
And now they are all having their babies. They're adorable and I am so happy for them, I really am.
But I just thought, you know...in case the heart actually had started beating and what I experienced was a real loss...I just thought I should document it. Write it down. It was a big part of my year. Of my life.
I'm grateful for the experience. Sure, I wish the result would be me swaddling a new little one in my arms today -- but now I can relate to the heartbreak that so many friends and family members have felt. Not in the same way. I mean... I was only nine weeks. But I can empathize more with these experience that a lot of us go through. It is certainly a different experience than I had ever envisioned prior to this.
My guess, and I guess my hope, is that I won't be thinking about it as much any more. It's over. "The pregnancy that wasn't" ends today, and that's a great feeling.
Wow, I am making this all sound so much more dramatic than it actually is. We really are just fine. I am okay with what happened, I was prepared for what happened. Just allowing a little deep-thought and emotional spillage on this special day. Kind of glad to get it behind me.
----
Ahem, to save myself a little frustration -- can I just say... just because we decided to try for a fourth and miscarried doesn't necessarily mean that we will try again. We might, we might not. I kind of found myself getting a little frustrated a few months after the miscarriage when it seemed that most people assumed I would be making another announcement any day. It was a hard decision for us to decide to try for a fourth, and we made that decision. It ended the way it did. It is an entirely different decision to make now if we want to try again. It's not automatic. And I am not sure why it bugs me so much if people think that it is. Did I want another baby? Yes. Yes, I wanted that baby. Do I want, or feel like I am supposed to try for another one? Still not sure. 90% of the time I think our family is complete. Don't worry. We will figure it out sooner or later.
It wasn't an easy decision to try for another baby. In fact the only thing that got me through being pregnant with Ivy was that I was DONE. Finished. That was my last pregnancy. I never had to do that again. That also got me through the three whirlwind years of Ben and Ivy's toddlerhood. It was rough going there for a while, my hands were full and survival was my only goal. I survived. Barely. The decision to go for a fourth was one four years (and lots of thinking and praying) in the making.
I was quite shocked, actually, when I saw the two lines on the pregnancy test. I've never had such a whirlwind of emotions. I went from disbelief, to being terrified. It's been a while folks. I've grown quite accustomed to sleeping through the night, not carrying a stroller around, that kind of thing. Plus -- Ivy is almost in kindergarten. I am almost to the point that I would dream about incessantly, when I was in the trenches of diapers and midnight rocking. I dreamt of sending Ivy to school one day and then finally having the time and energy to do something beyond mothering. To go back to school, to get a job, to find fulfillment in something additional to motherhood. I love being a mom, and I am grateful that I have been able to stay home with my little ones -- but for some reason I longed for a little outside-the-home fulfillment, or even just interaction. But, to my surprise, the being terrified part of pregnancy only lasted a matter of maybe twenty minutes. I mean, sure, I could still feel the terror down deep inside, but the dominant emotion quickly became excitement. The doodle endless lists of amazing baby names excitement.
Seeing my kids older now and realizing how much I love them and their personalities made me all the more excited to have a new baby. Back when the three of them were born I had no idea what was going on. I couldn't see past the fact that I was just having a baby. I couldn't ever envision the baby growing up to be a funny, cute, amazing kid. I never relished being pregnant. I just tried to make it through each day. Survival. But this time was different. This time I didn't feel in such a daze. I was able to marvel that there was a human being growing inside of me. A really cute human being who would add so much to this family and to the world. All of my kids are so unique and different from each other, it was fun to ponder what a new little Bassett would be like. Deep thinking like Gwen? Wild and fearless like Ivy? Kindhearted and energetic like Ben? Endless possibilities. And perhaps the most exciting (and at the same time most terrifying) thing of all was thinking of my three kids being able to interact with a new sibling. They were all just babies themselves when I had Ivy so there was no positive interaction, just a lot of poking and pacifier stealing :).
I felt great. That was actually my first clue that something was wrong. It really was. Normally I get deathly ill at like week 3 (bet you didn't even know that was possible, right? ha!). I found out I was pregnant the day after Christmas. I felt like a time bomb, wondering when I would first feel my stomach turn and when I would have to resign myself over to the throes of six months of all day long sickness. Wasn't looking forward to that.
But, it didn't come. I was exercising every day, eating whatever I pleased (a welcome relief from the 17 day diet we were doing at the time).
I knew something was wrong. I wanted to believe that a vomitless pregnancy was possible for me, but deep down I knew better.
In fact, feeling so great was of such concern to me that I kind of found myself hoping to feel queasy, something to prove that something was happening inside of me. I was so worried about not being sick that I called around to find a doctor who would take me as early in my pregnancy as possible. I just needed to hear a heartbeat, then I would stop worrying and just start getting excited, once I knew it was real (the twelve pregnancy tests and blood draw were not enough apparently).
Because of my apprehension, we didn't tell many people. I was nine weeks, it was a record breaking amount of time for us to not make an announcement (normally I have to announce when I apologize to people for tossing my cookies approximately every thirty seconds).
The day of my first appointment things started happening to lead me to believe that something was definitely wrong. I told the people at the front desk that I thought I might be miscarrying (side note -- no sympathy at all was offered, they just said, "okay, we will let the doctor know"). Did an ultrasound. The doctor looked at it, and said I was measuring at six weeks and they couldn't find a heartbeat, but that that wasn't necessarily abnormal at only six weeks. But from the looks of the ultrasound it looked as though I "might" be miscarrying. Come back in two weeks. The thing is-- I knew I was 9 weeks- almost 10. So if the baby was only measuring six with no heartbeat, well, yeah, I was pretty darn sure the baby had been gone for three weeks, which explains why I never got sick.
Not 12 hours later I knew there would be no going back in two weeks. It was definitely over. (Side note: Miscarrying is amazingly painful, I had no idea that that early on it would be such an ordeal. So much pain!). I was really grateful that I had been emotional prepared for this to happen. I just felt like I knew it would, and it kind of felt like that made it easier when it actually happened. I didn't even shed a tear. I made myself feel better by thinking that since the baby only measured at six weeks it's heart never even started beating at all. It was never a baby, it never got that far. That's what I told myself.
I was back in the doctors office two weeks later. Just to make sure everything was all...cleaned out I guess. And for some reason that is when it hit me. I climbed up, the tech put the cold ultrasound stuff on my belly....and I stared at a blank screen. You shouldn't see blank screens when you get an ultrasound. I guess deep down I was hoping that somehow I hadn't actually miscarried, that maybe there was some chance that everything was fine. But seeing a blank ultrasound...yeah, no denying it now. That was the first time I cried. And then I started thinking about "that thing that happened" as an actual baby, started thinking that maybe the heart had, in fact, started beating . . . and then stopped. And whoa baby, I just cried it all out.
Months later Blaine asked if I ever still thought about the miscarriage. "Uh....yeah, only EVERY SINGLE DAY!" was my response. Did he really not think about it every day? Weird.
It was kind of hard when people started announcing their pregnancies and their due dates were close to mine. Harder still when they all had ultrasound pictures to show.
And now they are all having their babies. They're adorable and I am so happy for them, I really am.
But I just thought, you know...in case the heart actually had started beating and what I experienced was a real loss...I just thought I should document it. Write it down. It was a big part of my year. Of my life.
I'm grateful for the experience. Sure, I wish the result would be me swaddling a new little one in my arms today -- but now I can relate to the heartbreak that so many friends and family members have felt. Not in the same way. I mean... I was only nine weeks. But I can empathize more with these experience that a lot of us go through. It is certainly a different experience than I had ever envisioned prior to this.
My guess, and I guess my hope, is that I won't be thinking about it as much any more. It's over. "The pregnancy that wasn't" ends today, and that's a great feeling.
Wow, I am making this all sound so much more dramatic than it actually is. We really are just fine. I am okay with what happened, I was prepared for what happened. Just allowing a little deep-thought and emotional spillage on this special day. Kind of glad to get it behind me.
----
Ahem, to save myself a little frustration -- can I just say... just because we decided to try for a fourth and miscarried doesn't necessarily mean that we will try again. We might, we might not. I kind of found myself getting a little frustrated a few months after the miscarriage when it seemed that most people assumed I would be making another announcement any day. It was a hard decision for us to decide to try for a fourth, and we made that decision. It ended the way it did. It is an entirely different decision to make now if we want to try again. It's not automatic. And I am not sure why it bugs me so much if people think that it is. Did I want another baby? Yes. Yes, I wanted that baby. Do I want, or feel like I am supposed to try for another one? Still not sure. 90% of the time I think our family is complete. Don't worry. We will figure it out sooner or later.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
The Girl Who Cried Fire
I had the chance to go camping this past week with my sister and her family. Blaine is busy working at his summer internship, so he was unable to go with us. The day we left for camping I confidently went and, in a noble leap of faith, purchase a one year fishing license.
I went fishing a lot as a kid and it's something I hope to be able to enjoy with my kids as they grow. Blaine mocks me and jokes about how no one wants to go fishing with me because I don't do any of the hard work. Sure, I cast, I reel in, I even bait my hook, but when it comes to things like yanking the hook out of the fishes mouth I tend to rely on whichever poor sap I've conned in to going fishing with me (Hi Dad!).
Since my dad wasn't with us on this camping trip I was forced to rely on the good graces of my dear brother-in-law Wayne to satisfy the hook-ripping-out needs of my children and I on our fishing trip. So on Thursday night Wayne, his dad, his nephews, Bentley and I headed a half mile or so away from our campsite to go fishing.
It had rained all afternoon but by early evening though the ground was damp, the sky was clear, the air fresh, and the lake inviting. The rain had cleared out everyone from the lake and we had the entire place to ourselves. It was so serene and peaceful. We found our respective spots and got our lines already (and by we, I mean Wayne). Got our lines in the water and enjoyed some very active fishing.
A few fish later and one of Wayne's nephews shouted from several yards away, "hey, is that smoke?". We looked over and just beyond the lake, over a hill, we could see billows of smoke. Not such an unusual site as it was the campfire building time of the evening, but there seemed to be a little too much smoke for an average camp fire. We all nervously glanced at each other but quickly figured that it wasn't too big of a deal.
We continued on fishing for about ten minutes when we heard the same nephew say, "whoa, look at that!". As we all turned we saw huge billows of smoke, spilling down from over the hillside and creeping rapidly across the lake and through the trees.
That's when the panic set in.
And oh, I know what you are thinking, I am easy to panic. It wasn't even me panicking at first! It was the nephews, Wayne, and Wayne's Dad, this was like three generations of panicking people. Wayne and his dad exchanged a few exclamations of "this is not good, this is really not good." I quickly reeled in my line as the smoke billowed ever closer. It was creeping through the trees and nearly to us.
The smoke was coming from the direction of the only exit out of the camp ground. It's one thing to think about having to quickly evacuate a mountain with countless others, down very windy, narrow road, but it is entirely more terrifying to think of your only exit being blocked by a forest fire. Thinking of being trapped or trying to outrun a fire through the bear infested woods, at night, with your three small children. Agh!
As soon as my line was reeled in, I saw the nervousness in Wayne's eyes as he looked at me and very firmly said, "GO. GO NOW! RUN!". The smoke was on our heels as we attempted to high tail it back to the campsite.
As soon as my line was reeled in, I saw the nervousness in Wayne's eyes as he looked at me and very firmly said, "GO. GO NOW! RUN!". The smoke was on our heels as we attempted to high tail it back to the campsite.
We were at least a half a mile from our campsite (where Gwen, Ivy and countless others were, blissfully unaware of our impending demise). Now half a mile isn't very far in general terms, but let's be honest, Bentley is pathetically slow at walking, let alone running. And he weighs about a thousand pounds.
The nephews (ages 15 and 12), were so nice asking how they could help me as I fumbled up the path carrying a fishing pole and holding the hand of a tearful five-year-old, and fighting a full blown anxiety attack. I told them the best thing they could do was go alert our group to what was happening. So they sprinted ahead. I looked back to see where Wayne and his Dad were...all I saw was smoke.
As I got in to the main camp ground I expected to see flashing lights or a flurry of activity, or hear someone barking orders from a megaphone. The reality was nothing. I could see the smoke sifting through the trees, it had caught up to me. I found the campground hosts' trailer and pounded on the door. By this time it was about 9:30PM. The poor old man groggily came to the door. "We think there's a fire by the lake!" I wailed. "Hurry!".
He seemed very perplexed by my panic. Yet, quickly laced his shoes and hopped in his truck to go investigate. Just then my niece returned from the pathway to the lake and reported that you couldn't even see the lake through the smoke anymore.
I made it back to camp to find everyone in a flurry. I ordered my confused and terrified children in to the van. I hurriedly grabbed our suitcases and flung them in, ready to evacuate. I was practically behind the wheel, ready to fend for my kids and leave the rest of our group behind to figure out their battle plan, but then...
somehow...
in the middle of all the chaos, and fear, and madness, the message got relayed back to us from the campground host that there was no fire.
No smoke.
Just...fog.
I really wish I had a video camera, or a regular camera. I wish you could see what I saw, because it was the most forest fire looking fog I've ever seen. Fog doesn't chase you, I mean, does it? It like, settles upon you. It's just there all of the sudden. This. This was demonic smoke. Like the monster from LOST.
And once my blood pressure settled back in to the normal range (which took at least six hours), the hilarity of the situation caught up to me. And I'll always remember the day I nearly single handedly evacuated a campground because of fog.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Phantom
I'm not sure if the Halloween Phantom is a Utah phenomenon or if he knows no state boundaries, but it's a fun little tradition that we've enjoyed the last few years. Early in October someone starts the phantom going by dropping off some goodies and two papers. One paper is one that says "we've been booed!" to hang in your window so the phantom has a chance to visit new people and not duplicate who gets treats. The other paper is a little instruction sheet that tells you to make copies of the papers and go "boo" two of your neighbors, to see how far the phantom cheer can spread.
(Confession: Normally my house is a place where Halloween Phantoms come to die. My sheer laziness - and lack of a copy machine - usually means I don't spread the love and I sometimes forget to hang the sign, which means the treats just keep coming in all month long! It's actually pretty awesome, but it comes with a certain amount of unbearable guilt, so thick skin is required.)
This year I actually had the wherewithall to make some treats yesterday and I intended to make copies of the sheet and spread the cheer. I explained to Gwen what we were doing and she got really excited and wanted to make her own sheets to pass along with our treats. I didn't see the harm in it. So I told her to make it and we would spread the love later in the evening.
She made a darling paper to send to our victims.
And we were about to head out, when I noticed she had decorated the back too...
And all the sudden the Halloween Phantom seemed really creepy. I mean, "promise painted by blood!". And by addressing it to a random human that "still lives" I think it goes without saying that on the said Halloween "vizziet" something life-ending might happen.
And I really don't think we would be making any friends by passing along death threats. But maybe that's just me.
(Confession: Normally my house is a place where Halloween Phantoms come to die. My sheer laziness - and lack of a copy machine - usually means I don't spread the love and I sometimes forget to hang the sign, which means the treats just keep coming in all month long! It's actually pretty awesome, but it comes with a certain amount of unbearable guilt, so thick skin is required.)
This year I actually had the wherewithall to make some treats yesterday and I intended to make copies of the sheet and spread the cheer. I explained to Gwen what we were doing and she got really excited and wanted to make her own sheets to pass along with our treats. I didn't see the harm in it. So I told her to make it and we would spread the love later in the evening.
She made a darling paper to send to our victims.
And we were about to head out, when I noticed she had decorated the back too...
And all the sudden the Halloween Phantom seemed really creepy. I mean, "promise painted by blood!". And by addressing it to a random human that "still lives" I think it goes without saying that on the said Halloween "vizziet" something life-ending might happen.
And I really don't think we would be making any friends by passing along death threats. But maybe that's just me.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Three Fish, Two Fish, One Fish
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| *note: this is a pic of a caterpillar on one of our hikes, not the fish the story is about :) I'm not that gross! |
This little man turned 5 last week. I remember when I was pregnant and found it I was having a boy I kind of panicked. Boys are scary, mean, and disgusting. At least that's what I had gathered in my experience. But then Bentley came along and (after seven months of non stop screaming) proved me wrong.
Bentley is the funniest, sweetest boy you could imagine. He is the only one of my kids who shows any inkling of remorse ever. The only one who will apologize ever. And the only one who cries for things besides physical injuries. His bottom lip quivers when he knows you are disappointed. When he falls down and gets hurt if you ever apologize and say, "oooooh buddy, I'm sorry!" his immediate reply through the pain and tears is, "It.....*sniff* ....wasn't....*sob* ....your fault!".
After the movie theater shootings in Colorado, Bentley noticed that the flags were flying half-mast. He asked me why. I told him the story and he was visibly upset about it. And for days, maybe even weeks afterward at random times he would just say, "that is so sad what that man did at that movie theater". And ever since he will notice the flag half mast and ask what sad thing happened.
He gets sad if you forget to give him his goodnight kiss.
Basically, the kid feels. And honestly there are times when I think that maybe Gwen doesn't. I love her, you know I do, but comparing the two kids the contrast is stark! You could offer that girl $20 to apologize for something and she wouldn't do it (Blaine would tell you she gets that from me! Hmph!)
So for his birthday we got the boy some fish. It was really cute as I sent him on a scavenger hunt to find the fish. He was so excited when he found them, and even though he's never implied in any way that he had an interest in fish, he jumped up and down, "it's what I always wanted! A FISH TANK!". After consulting family and friends he named the three fish Pa, Teddy, and Lightning. I had gotten two cheap-o goldfish and one bigger one (two whole dollars, I know, my generosity knows no bounds!).
A few nights after his birthday he burst in to our room in the morning and sounded like an episode of Little House on the Prairie gone wrong when he exclaimed, "something horrible has happened to Pa!" And after giving Pa a couple of hours we concluded that indeed he had gone the way of all the earth, and was not just sleeping as we had dared to hope.
I was impressed at Bentley's coping ability. We flushed Pa (which I realized later I should have done in private, all the kids were very perplexed by it). It came up every once in a while ("that was horrible what happened to Pa!"). But no tears were shed and we pressed through the pain.
Not 48 hours later it appeared that Lightning was fighting to stay belly-down. And sure enough we woke to "something horrible has happened to Lightning!". Flush.
Well, Teddy was still going strong and he was the expensive one anyways. So all was well. Occasionally Lightning and Pa were mentioned, but not extensively. That was maybe two or three days ago.
Then in the middle of the night last night Bentley burst in to our room in hysterics. I was sure he had either a) wet the bed or b) Teddy was toast. Through his tears I learned that neither was true. Teddy was alive, the bed was dry, but oh the tears! The compulsive sobbing, the likes of which I've only done in times of extreme distress. He wailed, "Ohhhhh it's just so sad what happened to Lightning and Pa! Teddy is so lonely! He's all alone and he doesn't know what happened to his friends!". This went on for...well, nearly an hour. In fact there were still sniffles and tears as he hopped on the bus to school. It was a powerful reaction and I wasn't sure how to handle it! Has the poor guy been up the last two nights thinking of how awful the whole experience was? I feel really bad that I didn't set him down and make him talk about his feelings. I had no idea! I figured he kind of understood that goldfish just don't last.
I don't know you had to be there I guess, but this kid. He feels things. He's so sensitive to the feelings of others, both of the human and aquatic variety. And I think whatever girl gets him for a husband is going to be one lucky, well cared for lady.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Isn't It?
I've long professed that I never got "the talk" when I was young. I felt grossly ill-prepared for growing up and definitely for getting married. The more I think about it the more I realize that maybe I did get the talk and because it was so traumatic I just blocked it from my memory entirely. Either way, I feel determined that my kids and I should have an open dialogue about that kind of thing and that I need to start breaking the ice with Gwen.
I'm not exactly sure but it seems that it was around second grade that boys started saying things that might require some sort of an explanation to kids of the more innocent variety. So over the summer I was bound and determined to get the dialogue started.
So I did my research and found some recommended books, then one day found one of them ("It's So Amazing") at the library and brought it home amidst thirty other books Gwen and the kids had chosen.
Of course I wasn't prepared to actually read it to her at that point. >> I << was going to read it, get a grip, come up with a plan and then we would read it together. Foolproof.
It's been really great lately in that once in a while my kids will actually do something together. It requires a lot of begging and usually ends in tears and violence, but for brief moments I catch a glimpse of cooperative play, and it's a Godsend.
On a particularly hectic day I pleaded with Gwen to just read a book to the other kids. I offered money, candy, etc. Eventually she agreed and I went about my business preparing dinner. I kind of zoned them out but a few minutes later I remember hearing her read the phrase, "it's so amazing!". It took a little too long for me to process what was happening (being that my seven-year-old was about to inadvertently have the talk with my three and four year old). When it finally did click I pounced on Gwen, grabbed the book. My wide-eyed children (wide eyed from my behavior or from the content of the book I will never know!) were extremely confused. And poor Gwen. I had to explain what the book was about and how I had gotten it for me and her, and then Ben and Ivy felt all cheated that she got a special book and Gwen ran off all blushing and horrified and I am pretty sure will never look me in the eyes again.
And...yeah. Set the tone perfectly for that open and honest dialogue I was hoping for. Whoops.
I'm not exactly sure but it seems that it was around second grade that boys started saying things that might require some sort of an explanation to kids of the more innocent variety. So over the summer I was bound and determined to get the dialogue started.
So I did my research and found some recommended books, then one day found one of them ("It's So Amazing") at the library and brought it home amidst thirty other books Gwen and the kids had chosen.
It's been really great lately in that once in a while my kids will actually do something together. It requires a lot of begging and usually ends in tears and violence, but for brief moments I catch a glimpse of cooperative play, and it's a Godsend.
On a particularly hectic day I pleaded with Gwen to just read a book to the other kids. I offered money, candy, etc. Eventually she agreed and I went about my business preparing dinner. I kind of zoned them out but a few minutes later I remember hearing her read the phrase, "it's so amazing!". It took a little too long for me to process what was happening (being that my seven-year-old was about to inadvertently have the talk with my three and four year old). When it finally did click I pounced on Gwen, grabbed the book. My wide-eyed children (wide eyed from my behavior or from the content of the book I will never know!) were extremely confused. And poor Gwen. I had to explain what the book was about and how I had gotten it for me and her, and then Ben and Ivy felt all cheated that she got a special book and Gwen ran off all blushing and horrified and I am pretty sure will never look me in the eyes again.
And...yeah. Set the tone perfectly for that open and honest dialogue I was hoping for. Whoops.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Are You There Fuji? It's Me, Kristi.
For as much as I love to read reviews, I don't write them often. Once in a while I will get on yelp and just go for it and review every place I've had a positive or negative experience. For the most part, however, I just go with the flow, I don't murky the water.
But this time, things have gone too far.
As you may recall, on our recent cruise I had the chance to go scuba diving. It. Was. Awesome. In preparation for the occasion I purchased an underwater camera from amazon. I wasn't expecting amazing, award-winning photographs, I just wanted a simple keepsake to show posteriety.
Blaine has been gone a lot lately. Usually Wednesday afternoons through late Friday evenings. Usually by about Friday afternoon things would be falling apart and I would be at my wits end. By Friday nights we are usually in full meltdown, myself included.
It was on one such Friday night about three weeks ago that I took my underwater camera to be developed. I had first talked to Walgreens. They could have it done in an hour, but the cost was $12, a little steep for my taste. I was close to Wal-Mart anyways so I took my camera there. Turns out Wal-Mart was the same price and it would take three days to be developed. Since I wasn't in a particular hurry to get my pictures and since gouging my own eyeballs out with a pencil sounded preferable to taking my kids back to Walgreens, I just dropped my pictures off, with the promise that they would be back by Tuesday afternoon.
Tuesday afternoon came and went. Wednesday, Thursday ("sorry they must be delayed from the holiday"). Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday....they placed a call, apparently my camera order had never gone through. They put it in again, it should be back within a day or two. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday...she places a call in to Fuji who says their machine was broken when the placed the order, she'll place it again, it should be in within an hour. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday....she calls again and apparently they had just canceled my order for no apparent reason. So finally, two weeks and change late, I get a call that my pictures were in. I was a little peeved, but they said there wouldn't be a charge, so...whatever. I get my pictures tonight and the majority of them look like this...
and some like this
and a couple like this
Now.
I'm no professional, but using an underwater camera is not exactly brain surgery, is it? So I figured there must have been a problem with the processing. No worries, they gave me a disc. So I pop in the disc, and to my surprise see the major quality difference. The pictures on my disc look like this...
Now, I saw many things in the crystal clear waters of Cozumel, but I did not see these people. In fact, I've never seen these people.
So, I can't decide who I should be more frustrated with. Wal-Mart? Fuji (the developer)? Fujifilm (maker of the camera)? Needless to say I am kind of frustrated with them all, and I kind of wish I had one of those blogs that was popular enough that someone at Fuji would come across it and send me awesome things to compensate for them being dumb. And maybe send me on another trip to Cozumel, where I would be certain to buy a different brand of underwater camera so that I could have something by which to remember my once-in-a-lifetime experience by. Oh and I would be certain to get it developed at Walgreens.
But this time, things have gone too far.
As you may recall, on our recent cruise I had the chance to go scuba diving. It. Was. Awesome. In preparation for the occasion I purchased an underwater camera from amazon. I wasn't expecting amazing, award-winning photographs, I just wanted a simple keepsake to show posteriety.
Blaine has been gone a lot lately. Usually Wednesday afternoons through late Friday evenings. Usually by about Friday afternoon things would be falling apart and I would be at my wits end. By Friday nights we are usually in full meltdown, myself included.
It was on one such Friday night about three weeks ago that I took my underwater camera to be developed. I had first talked to Walgreens. They could have it done in an hour, but the cost was $12, a little steep for my taste. I was close to Wal-Mart anyways so I took my camera there. Turns out Wal-Mart was the same price and it would take three days to be developed. Since I wasn't in a particular hurry to get my pictures and since gouging my own eyeballs out with a pencil sounded preferable to taking my kids back to Walgreens, I just dropped my pictures off, with the promise that they would be back by Tuesday afternoon.
Tuesday afternoon came and went. Wednesday, Thursday ("sorry they must be delayed from the holiday"). Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday....they placed a call, apparently my camera order had never gone through. They put it in again, it should be back within a day or two. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday...she places a call in to Fuji who says their machine was broken when the placed the order, she'll place it again, it should be in within an hour. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday....she calls again and apparently they had just canceled my order for no apparent reason. So finally, two weeks and change late, I get a call that my pictures were in. I was a little peeved, but they said there wouldn't be a charge, so...whatever. I get my pictures tonight and the majority of them look like this...
and some like this
I'm no professional, but using an underwater camera is not exactly brain surgery, is it? So I figured there must have been a problem with the processing. No worries, they gave me a disc. So I pop in the disc, and to my surprise see the major quality difference. The pictures on my disc look like this...
Now, I saw many things in the crystal clear waters of Cozumel, but I did not see these people. In fact, I've never seen these people.
So, I can't decide who I should be more frustrated with. Wal-Mart? Fuji (the developer)? Fujifilm (maker of the camera)? Needless to say I am kind of frustrated with them all, and I kind of wish I had one of those blogs that was popular enough that someone at Fuji would come across it and send me awesome things to compensate for them being dumb. And maybe send me on another trip to Cozumel, where I would be certain to buy a different brand of underwater camera so that I could have something by which to remember my once-in-a-lifetime experience by. Oh and I would be certain to get it developed at Walgreens.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Anticipation
Many might think that the actual best part of a vacation is the vacation. Not me! I much prefer the week before the vacation. When you are exhausted and stressed and think, "man, I could use a vacation!" and then you remember that it is only a matter of days until you will have one. Yes, the best day of a trip is the day before the trip, that's what I say. Once you are on the trip you are too worried about how quickly the time is going by and if you are making good enough use of your time.
But this post isn't really about vacation. Don't worry, my cruise was probably the best vacation I've ever been on in my entire life. Loved. Every. Second! Especially those precious seconds spent underwater!
This is a post about Seattle, Austin, San Deigo and Salt Lake City.
Blaine has been jetsetting recently around the country interviewing at firms for his second summer internship. Something you should know about law students second summer internships is that the firms they intern at are likely the only ones they will get offers from (if things go well).
We've loved this summer working for the small local firm that Blaine worked at. They are flexible, nice (did you know apparently a lot of badgering and yelling happens in the patent law world? Not at this firm!), we've loved it. They pay a little less to start out, but the potential to earn is higher than most places. There is a lot of flexibility to work from home, or from anywhere, so potentially we could live anywhere in the country (I vote Hawaii!). But, in honor of strengthening Blaine's resume we figured it would be in our best interest to try something else out next summer. A bigger firm where Blaine would have the chance to try some litigation (as opposed to just prosecution).
So before the rejections and offers start coming in I am having a lovely time trying to decide where we should go. Will all of the aforementioned places even be options? Not likely. But that's what's so fun about the "week before". There is no actual decision to make yet, so it's not stressful (we all know how much I like to stress over a big, or little, decision). I'm just doing some soul searching about where I want to spend my next summer and potentially the rest of my life :)
There are lots of factors to consider aside from the actual cities themselves. Like, say, the firms.
The Austin firm is hands down the best opportunity (namely because he could practice prosecution and litigation for his entire career).
The Seattle firm is very prestigious. It's on the sixty second freakin floor of the largest building in Seattle. Frankly, it makes me sick just thinking about riding the elevator to visit Blaine in his office!
The three Utah firms all seem great in their own respects.
Blaine is just on his way to San Diego now, so I don't know what to think about those firms.
But, which firm is best is Blaine's prerogative. We would be flattered and honored to receive an offer at any one of them.
What I have to decide is where I could spend the rest of my life.
Seattle: I LOVE the Northwest. LOVE. I went on a roadtrip there in highschool and just fell head over heels in love with the green, mountains, ocean, crisp air, all of it. I've never seen somewhere so pretty. I thought I had died and gone to Heaven as I wandered through Pike's market and saw the fresh flowers and vendors. Recently I emailed with a friend who lives on an island in Pudget Sound. An ISLAND. I could live on an island. Yes, yes I could. But the big question on my mind is -- could I handle the rain? I love feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin. Rain doesn't bother me, especially when it is not accompanied by scary storms (ahem, Austin). For reference sake though...there are 50 sunny days in Seattle a year. Sounds nice right? Well...there are 300 sunny days in Austin. Anyone lived there? Can I be happy with dreary skies and raincoats long term?
Austin: Well, I think we all know how I feel about Austin. Love. But..."you can't go back home". I wouldn't be able to slide back in to my once loved life there. I'm a different person now, my friends are different people, it would be way too super weird to try to fit back in to my old life. So I'd probably live in a new part of town. So I find myself asking if I really loved the place or if I really loved the people. And if there is a chance that I could find some awesome people again. I think I really did love the place too. And Blaine assures me that were we to settle in Austin we would install a storm shelter :). The problem with Austin is that it is SO freaking far away. I can drive people. I like to drive. Roadtrips are the bomb, but 24 hours...that's along road trip that I have done many times. And while I think that "quality" time with our families would definitely compensate for "quantity" time with them, ugh that drive. (No offense New Mexico - Hi Liz!- but I've traversed your barren freeways one too many times I think!). So, moving to Austin would definitely require me to get over that pesky fear of flying (which, are you so proud that I flew a bazillion times this summer?).
Utah: Utah has really grown on me. It took a couple years, but I'm pretty happy now. For starters we just moved to Saratoga Springs and holy Hannah--- Utah's never looked so pretty. I don't know, something about living over here makes the mountains look bigger and awesomer than other places. I feel like I'm living in an amphitheater of gorgeousness! My one complaint though? Snow. Ick. I. Hate. Winter. Fall and Spring are fine, but if I could be stuck in an eternal summer I would be. Weird right? As I've often said, life is too short to live somewhere cold. I can handle chilly, I think I could handle rainy, but I'm plum whiny and miserable November- March here :). Snow...it's a nice thing to visit, a pain in the rear to live in.
San Deigo: The obvious right choice right? Warm! Ocean! Manageable drive to visit family! Tourist destination (ie family would want to come see us!). Gorgeous! Okay, aside from the fact that I know nothing of the firms in San Deigo--- wow, it's expensive. Like crazy expensive. Like we would probably never ever own a home (which...hey, buying a house the first time wasn't necessarily our best decision ever). So I guess I worry about being able to afford to live in a nice, safe neighborhood if we go there. Anyone lived there? What do you think? Is the weather worth the cost?
Yes so it is all fun and games to mull over where I want to live right now. Certainly when there is actually a choice to be made it won't be fun anymore. I'll be a ball of nerves and panicky and stressed. So I'm enjoying it now while it's all just talk. Where would you choose?
But this post isn't really about vacation. Don't worry, my cruise was probably the best vacation I've ever been on in my entire life. Loved. Every. Second! Especially those precious seconds spent underwater!
This is a post about Seattle, Austin, San Deigo and Salt Lake City.
Blaine has been jetsetting recently around the country interviewing at firms for his second summer internship. Something you should know about law students second summer internships is that the firms they intern at are likely the only ones they will get offers from (if things go well).
We've loved this summer working for the small local firm that Blaine worked at. They are flexible, nice (did you know apparently a lot of badgering and yelling happens in the patent law world? Not at this firm!), we've loved it. They pay a little less to start out, but the potential to earn is higher than most places. There is a lot of flexibility to work from home, or from anywhere, so potentially we could live anywhere in the country (I vote Hawaii!). But, in honor of strengthening Blaine's resume we figured it would be in our best interest to try something else out next summer. A bigger firm where Blaine would have the chance to try some litigation (as opposed to just prosecution).
So before the rejections and offers start coming in I am having a lovely time trying to decide where we should go. Will all of the aforementioned places even be options? Not likely. But that's what's so fun about the "week before". There is no actual decision to make yet, so it's not stressful (we all know how much I like to stress over a big, or little, decision). I'm just doing some soul searching about where I want to spend my next summer and potentially the rest of my life :)
There are lots of factors to consider aside from the actual cities themselves. Like, say, the firms.
The Austin firm is hands down the best opportunity (namely because he could practice prosecution and litigation for his entire career).
The Seattle firm is very prestigious. It's on the sixty second freakin floor of the largest building in Seattle. Frankly, it makes me sick just thinking about riding the elevator to visit Blaine in his office!
The three Utah firms all seem great in their own respects.
Blaine is just on his way to San Diego now, so I don't know what to think about those firms.
But, which firm is best is Blaine's prerogative. We would be flattered and honored to receive an offer at any one of them.
What I have to decide is where I could spend the rest of my life.
Seattle: I LOVE the Northwest. LOVE. I went on a roadtrip there in highschool and just fell head over heels in love with the green, mountains, ocean, crisp air, all of it. I've never seen somewhere so pretty. I thought I had died and gone to Heaven as I wandered through Pike's market and saw the fresh flowers and vendors. Recently I emailed with a friend who lives on an island in Pudget Sound. An ISLAND. I could live on an island. Yes, yes I could. But the big question on my mind is -- could I handle the rain? I love feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin. Rain doesn't bother me, especially when it is not accompanied by scary storms (ahem, Austin). For reference sake though...there are 50 sunny days in Seattle a year. Sounds nice right? Well...there are 300 sunny days in Austin. Anyone lived there? Can I be happy with dreary skies and raincoats long term?
Austin: Well, I think we all know how I feel about Austin. Love. But..."you can't go back home". I wouldn't be able to slide back in to my once loved life there. I'm a different person now, my friends are different people, it would be way too super weird to try to fit back in to my old life. So I'd probably live in a new part of town. So I find myself asking if I really loved the place or if I really loved the people. And if there is a chance that I could find some awesome people again. I think I really did love the place too. And Blaine assures me that were we to settle in Austin we would install a storm shelter :). The problem with Austin is that it is SO freaking far away. I can drive people. I like to drive. Roadtrips are the bomb, but 24 hours...that's along road trip that I have done many times. And while I think that "quality" time with our families would definitely compensate for "quantity" time with them, ugh that drive. (No offense New Mexico - Hi Liz!- but I've traversed your barren freeways one too many times I think!). So, moving to Austin would definitely require me to get over that pesky fear of flying (which, are you so proud that I flew a bazillion times this summer?).
Utah: Utah has really grown on me. It took a couple years, but I'm pretty happy now. For starters we just moved to Saratoga Springs and holy Hannah--- Utah's never looked so pretty. I don't know, something about living over here makes the mountains look bigger and awesomer than other places. I feel like I'm living in an amphitheater of gorgeousness! My one complaint though? Snow. Ick. I. Hate. Winter. Fall and Spring are fine, but if I could be stuck in an eternal summer I would be. Weird right? As I've often said, life is too short to live somewhere cold. I can handle chilly, I think I could handle rainy, but I'm plum whiny and miserable November- March here :). Snow...it's a nice thing to visit, a pain in the rear to live in.
San Deigo: The obvious right choice right? Warm! Ocean! Manageable drive to visit family! Tourist destination (ie family would want to come see us!). Gorgeous! Okay, aside from the fact that I know nothing of the firms in San Deigo--- wow, it's expensive. Like crazy expensive. Like we would probably never ever own a home (which...hey, buying a house the first time wasn't necessarily our best decision ever). So I guess I worry about being able to afford to live in a nice, safe neighborhood if we go there. Anyone lived there? What do you think? Is the weather worth the cost?
Yes so it is all fun and games to mull over where I want to live right now. Certainly when there is actually a choice to be made it won't be fun anymore. I'll be a ball of nerves and panicky and stressed. So I'm enjoying it now while it's all just talk. Where would you choose?
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Should I Be Eaten By a Shark: A Love Letter
Well, it's 12:34 AM, I have to be to the airport in about 5.5 hours for a cruise. You know, people have a real hard time understanding the level of anxiety I feel before a vacation. I mean, it's a vacation! How could anyone be so worried and stressed out about it?
All I know is that anxiety sucks. Big time.
Don't worry, I am plenty excited too.
But just in case anything should happen. Be it on the plane (eeee!), the ship (agh!), under the water (is it smart to go scuba diving during shark week? Something inside says no!), or whatever, I thought it might be prudent to leave a little love letter for my kids.
Oh kids.
See, they drive you crazy. So crazy you want a vacation, and then the vacation rolls around and you get so darn worried about leaving your kids! Or at least I do. Those little stinkers.
I love Gwen. So smart and beautiful. She's the whole package (or at least she will be once she gets over these wild mood swings!). So creative, and fun. She remembers everything anyone has ever said to her, reads entire novels in a sitting, and I'm fairly certain she's a genius. Love her.
Oh Bentley. What a sweetheart. Sure, his natural volume is like a million disciples louder than the average kids, but that's endearing :). He's my only kid to ever show any remorse, ever. He apologizes, gives hugs and kisses, and is pretty darn obedient. Love that kid, and if he ever starts saying "if" the right way, instead of "whiff" I will cry a river of tears! Every single word and sentence that comes out of that kids mouth is worth writing down, he is so funny! But then he gets so embarrassed if I ever share the story of what he said. So cute. Love him.
Oh Ivy. Crazy Ivy. My baby. Love her so much. I love her mixed pronouns ("Where's them going?" "Is she in she's house?). I love how ever sentence she says ends in, "how 'bout dat?". She has more personality in her little finger than I will ever have! So glad she is in our family!
So anyway, should I meet my untimely demise on this once in a lifetime vacation, at least now my kids will know I love them! We spent a good hour today in the car talking about who they would want to raise them if we died. It was pretty eye opening. For the record, Ivy chose Nick and Stef (because Stef is SO fun!), Gwen chose Janey and Warner (over Nick and Stef because she doesn't want any additional siblings...), and Bentley chose Rosey (who Gwen didn't choose because she wants to have a dad and Rosey isn't married yet!). Pretty insightful too! Of course originally they all chose their grandparents (both sets) but I had to explain to them that grandparents aren't around for as long as their parents are going to need to be around :) Okay, this is kind of a morbid topic. Just pray I don't get eaten by a shark, okay?
PS Jen, for the record, you were not chosen because your other kids are too old and Gwen doesn't want to give up being the oldest! Who knew?
All I know is that anxiety sucks. Big time.
Don't worry, I am plenty excited too.
But just in case anything should happen. Be it on the plane (eeee!), the ship (agh!), under the water (is it smart to go scuba diving during shark week? Something inside says no!), or whatever, I thought it might be prudent to leave a little love letter for my kids.
Oh kids.
See, they drive you crazy. So crazy you want a vacation, and then the vacation rolls around and you get so darn worried about leaving your kids! Or at least I do. Those little stinkers.
I love Gwen. So smart and beautiful. She's the whole package (or at least she will be once she gets over these wild mood swings!). So creative, and fun. She remembers everything anyone has ever said to her, reads entire novels in a sitting, and I'm fairly certain she's a genius. Love her.
Oh Bentley. What a sweetheart. Sure, his natural volume is like a million disciples louder than the average kids, but that's endearing :). He's my only kid to ever show any remorse, ever. He apologizes, gives hugs and kisses, and is pretty darn obedient. Love that kid, and if he ever starts saying "if" the right way, instead of "whiff" I will cry a river of tears! Every single word and sentence that comes out of that kids mouth is worth writing down, he is so funny! But then he gets so embarrassed if I ever share the story of what he said. So cute. Love him.
Oh Ivy. Crazy Ivy. My baby. Love her so much. I love her mixed pronouns ("Where's them going?" "Is she in she's house?). I love how ever sentence she says ends in, "how 'bout dat?". She has more personality in her little finger than I will ever have! So glad she is in our family!
So anyway, should I meet my untimely demise on this once in a lifetime vacation, at least now my kids will know I love them! We spent a good hour today in the car talking about who they would want to raise them if we died. It was pretty eye opening. For the record, Ivy chose Nick and Stef (because Stef is SO fun!), Gwen chose Janey and Warner (over Nick and Stef because she doesn't want any additional siblings...), and Bentley chose Rosey (who Gwen didn't choose because she wants to have a dad and Rosey isn't married yet!). Pretty insightful too! Of course originally they all chose their grandparents (both sets) but I had to explain to them that grandparents aren't around for as long as their parents are going to need to be around :) Okay, this is kind of a morbid topic. Just pray I don't get eaten by a shark, okay?
PS Jen, for the record, you were not chosen because your other kids are too old and Gwen doesn't want to give up being the oldest! Who knew?
Friday, June 1, 2012
DC Day 4
Day 4 Monday May 14th
On Monday our exciting weekend came to an end. It was time to pack up and move to our new place for the next leg of our journey. Our long lost friend from high school Sharon, was so kind to offer us her extra bedroom for three nights during the week. It was so perfect since hotels in DC were SO expensive during the week (seems backwards right? Who would have thought hotels would be cheaper on the weekends!). Blaine took off for work early in the morning and I was left trying to figure out how to move all of our stuff (two big suitcases, a backpack, a purse, a vase of flowers and pillow) across town to Sharon's house. I milked every second out of our hotel and lounged around on the bed watching a weird Diane Keaton movie on TV until checkout time. I was exhausted from the previous days adventures and was grateful for an excuse to take it easy.
The time finally came and I gathered our luggage and set out for Sharon's. The journey was...well, it was traumatizing. It was pouring rain, I had a problem with my metro pass, my suitcase didn't really fit through the metro gate, and so on. By the time I got to Shady Grove I was quite razzled. Sharon was really nice and offered to come and pick me up from the metro stop. The only problem was that I didn't really listen too carefully to her directions. I wound up going out the wrong side of the Metro and walked around for a while in the pouring rain. I stepped into what I am convinced was the worlds largest puzzle. I was soaked to the bone, lost, and extremely disheartened. I picked up my phone to call Sharon to figure out where I was. "Hello?" she answered. "Hey! I am so lost? I came out the one side but I think maybe you are on the other side and I stepped in a puddle and it's raining and I'm lost and HELP!" I wailed. "Uh, this is Stef" came the confused reply. In the chaos I guess I called the wrong number and my poor sister-in-law had to listen to me cry about how hard my life was :) Ha ha, eventually I got over to the other side of the tracks and Sharon rescued me. I've never been so happy to see someone in my life ever! I LOVED meeting Sharon's kids. Wow, they were complete dolls. I instantly fell in love with Lucy (cutest curly blonde hair ever!), Matthew (such a sweet boy, and he liked me too, I could tell :), and brand new baby Conrad. As excited as I was to leave my kids for 10 days, the second I was around Sharon's family I felt at home, and more peaceful than I had at any point on the trip. So lovely! She showed me to our room, which was cozy and secluded down in the basement. I played with the kids for a bit, mooched a PBJ from Sharon, and then set off for DC. I had promised Blaine I would pick him up from work, though I was less than excited to spend more time on the Metro that day! I got in to town around 3PM and decided to go check out the Museum of Natural History until Blaine got off of work. It was awesome! I especially loved the Gem collection and the Jewelry Collection (Holy Hope Diamond!). Blaine got off of work a little later than he expected and was going to meet me at the museum and we were going to hopefully catch a few exhibits before it closed at 5:30pm. I told him I would meet him at the top of the stairs (there was only one set in the Natural History Museum). I waited forever and eventually he called, "Hey, where are you?" "At the top of the stairs, where are you?" "At the top of the stairs" "You sure? What are you looking at? I'm looking at the giant African Elephant" "I'm looking at the giant American flag" Me *looking around and not seeing a flag* "Uh, I don't see a flag" "Well, I don't see an elephant-- you sure you're not on the third floor?" Me *looking at the Authorized Personnel Only sign that barricaded off the third floor. "Yep, I'm sure". It took us a ridiculous amount of time to figure out that he was in the Smithsonian Museum of American History and not the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. By the time we sorted it all out and he got over to the right museum we only had about ten minutes left. We checked out the bug exhibit, which turned out to be a favorite, and then headed out.
We stopped at Potbelly's for a sandwich for Blaine and a salad for me (*cough* and a chocolate shake!). We then made our way to the Archives, grateful to find something that closed a little bit later. We only had about twenty minutes, but the good thing about that was that we were about the only people in the entire building. We didn't have to wait in line to see anything. It was awesome seeing the Magna Carta, The Constitution, and The Declaration of Independence. It was pretty funky how weird they looked under their protective cases and lighting. Glad I finally got to see the official John Hancock myself. We had just a few minutes to check out the other exhibits which had letters and journals of George Washington (one which basically was telling off the paparazzi, which was awesome), and Abraham Lincoln. Very cool, wish we would have had a bit more time here. Then we headed back to Sharon's house where we enjoyed visiting with her and her husband for a while before bed.
* I didn't take many pictures in these places because, well, you couldn't. Sorry :)
On Monday our exciting weekend came to an end. It was time to pack up and move to our new place for the next leg of our journey. Our long lost friend from high school Sharon, was so kind to offer us her extra bedroom for three nights during the week. It was so perfect since hotels in DC were SO expensive during the week (seems backwards right? Who would have thought hotels would be cheaper on the weekends!). Blaine took off for work early in the morning and I was left trying to figure out how to move all of our stuff (two big suitcases, a backpack, a purse, a vase of flowers and pillow) across town to Sharon's house. I milked every second out of our hotel and lounged around on the bed watching a weird Diane Keaton movie on TV until checkout time. I was exhausted from the previous days adventures and was grateful for an excuse to take it easy.
The time finally came and I gathered our luggage and set out for Sharon's. The journey was...well, it was traumatizing. It was pouring rain, I had a problem with my metro pass, my suitcase didn't really fit through the metro gate, and so on. By the time I got to Shady Grove I was quite razzled. Sharon was really nice and offered to come and pick me up from the metro stop. The only problem was that I didn't really listen too carefully to her directions. I wound up going out the wrong side of the Metro and walked around for a while in the pouring rain. I stepped into what I am convinced was the worlds largest puzzle. I was soaked to the bone, lost, and extremely disheartened. I picked up my phone to call Sharon to figure out where I was. "Hello?" she answered. "Hey! I am so lost? I came out the one side but I think maybe you are on the other side and I stepped in a puddle and it's raining and I'm lost and HELP!" I wailed. "Uh, this is Stef" came the confused reply. In the chaos I guess I called the wrong number and my poor sister-in-law had to listen to me cry about how hard my life was :) Ha ha, eventually I got over to the other side of the tracks and Sharon rescued me. I've never been so happy to see someone in my life ever! I LOVED meeting Sharon's kids. Wow, they were complete dolls. I instantly fell in love with Lucy (cutest curly blonde hair ever!), Matthew (such a sweet boy, and he liked me too, I could tell :), and brand new baby Conrad. As excited as I was to leave my kids for 10 days, the second I was around Sharon's family I felt at home, and more peaceful than I had at any point on the trip. So lovely! She showed me to our room, which was cozy and secluded down in the basement. I played with the kids for a bit, mooched a PBJ from Sharon, and then set off for DC. I had promised Blaine I would pick him up from work, though I was less than excited to spend more time on the Metro that day! I got in to town around 3PM and decided to go check out the Museum of Natural History until Blaine got off of work. It was awesome! I especially loved the Gem collection and the Jewelry Collection (Holy Hope Diamond!). Blaine got off of work a little later than he expected and was going to meet me at the museum and we were going to hopefully catch a few exhibits before it closed at 5:30pm. I told him I would meet him at the top of the stairs (there was only one set in the Natural History Museum). I waited forever and eventually he called, "Hey, where are you?" "At the top of the stairs, where are you?" "At the top of the stairs" "You sure? What are you looking at? I'm looking at the giant African Elephant" "I'm looking at the giant American flag" Me *looking around and not seeing a flag* "Uh, I don't see a flag" "Well, I don't see an elephant-- you sure you're not on the third floor?" Me *looking at the Authorized Personnel Only sign that barricaded off the third floor. "Yep, I'm sure". It took us a ridiculous amount of time to figure out that he was in the Smithsonian Museum of American History and not the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. By the time we sorted it all out and he got over to the right museum we only had about ten minutes left. We checked out the bug exhibit, which turned out to be a favorite, and then headed out.
We stopped at Potbelly's for a sandwich for Blaine and a salad for me (*cough* and a chocolate shake!). We then made our way to the Archives, grateful to find something that closed a little bit later. We only had about twenty minutes, but the good thing about that was that we were about the only people in the entire building. We didn't have to wait in line to see anything. It was awesome seeing the Magna Carta, The Constitution, and The Declaration of Independence. It was pretty funky how weird they looked under their protective cases and lighting. Glad I finally got to see the official John Hancock myself. We had just a few minutes to check out the other exhibits which had letters and journals of George Washington (one which basically was telling off the paparazzi, which was awesome), and Abraham Lincoln. Very cool, wish we would have had a bit more time here. Then we headed back to Sharon's house where we enjoyed visiting with her and her husband for a while before bed.
* I didn't take many pictures in these places because, well, you couldn't. Sorry :)
Monday, May 28, 2012
DC Part Duex
May 13, 2012
Sunday was really nice. We got up and found the nearest LDS church and the most convenient time. We scrambled to make the metro shuttle (I literally had to bang on the window as he was driving away!). And raced to Chevy Chase (which is where I think Carolyn Franklin is from), and caught the Singles Ward. It was eerily quiet. Well, correction, it was freakishly LOUD before the meeting and then eerily quiet once it had started. It was ironic that it was mothers day since I was one of only a small handful of mothers in the enormous room. We enjoyed hearing the speakers and attending the first sacrament meeting I can remember in a long time where I wasn't taking care of kids :). Oh we also enjoyed that one of the callings extended during the meeting was "ward tweeter". That's a new one.
After the meeting I was able to meet James (Blaine's housemate), and I also got to meet um. Dang it. I can't remember his name. But the guy that Blaine met on the metro his first day in DC and had invited to church. Apparently this guy had kind of fallen for one of the girls that Blaine was with and has called her almost every day since then. So, his motives maybe weren't most pure, but at least he was there, which was fun.
We then got back on the Metro and headed to Arlington. We figured that would be a great Sunday activity. And it was! I loved Arlington. We meandered around, saw the flame on JFKs grave (lit by Jackie at his funeral and hasn't been put out since).
My favorite part was the Tomb of the Unknown Solider. Wow. There's not much else to say but ... wow. I sat there for a long time, just indulging my thoughts of gratitude towards those who have given their lives for our country. We hung around long enough to watch the changing of the guard, which was also amazing. We even got online and read some interesting facts about the soldiers who protect the tomb. We were also able to witness a couple of groups who were presenting wreaths to the tomb, which was awesome (an amazing rendition of TAPS was played each time). Wow, it was just an amazing experience to be there.
Afterward we meandered around and found the memorials to those on the Challenger, and a couple of other memorials. Then we made the long trek back (maybe it wasn't really that long but we got lost a couple of times). The sheer quantity of graves is just enough to blow your mind, and break your heart.
We stopped on our way home at Whole Foods to buy some breakfast for the next day (chocolate croissants!), and then grabbed some dinner at Cosi, where we tried to pretend our expensive yet meager portions had filled us. Unfortunately we had to resort to eating our next days breakfast for a second dinner later on!
We spent some time on FaceTime watching the kids jump on the tramp and being jealous of all the people who were eating homemade ice cream!
Sunday was really nice. We got up and found the nearest LDS church and the most convenient time. We scrambled to make the metro shuttle (I literally had to bang on the window as he was driving away!). And raced to Chevy Chase (which is where I think Carolyn Franklin is from), and caught the Singles Ward. It was eerily quiet. Well, correction, it was freakishly LOUD before the meeting and then eerily quiet once it had started. It was ironic that it was mothers day since I was one of only a small handful of mothers in the enormous room. We enjoyed hearing the speakers and attending the first sacrament meeting I can remember in a long time where I wasn't taking care of kids :). Oh we also enjoyed that one of the callings extended during the meeting was "ward tweeter". That's a new one.
After the meeting I was able to meet James (Blaine's housemate), and I also got to meet um. Dang it. I can't remember his name. But the guy that Blaine met on the metro his first day in DC and had invited to church. Apparently this guy had kind of fallen for one of the girls that Blaine was with and has called her almost every day since then. So, his motives maybe weren't most pure, but at least he was there, which was fun.
We then got back on the Metro and headed to Arlington. We figured that would be a great Sunday activity. And it was! I loved Arlington. We meandered around, saw the flame on JFKs grave (lit by Jackie at his funeral and hasn't been put out since).
My favorite part was the Tomb of the Unknown Solider. Wow. There's not much else to say but ... wow. I sat there for a long time, just indulging my thoughts of gratitude towards those who have given their lives for our country. We hung around long enough to watch the changing of the guard, which was also amazing. We even got online and read some interesting facts about the soldiers who protect the tomb. We were also able to witness a couple of groups who were presenting wreaths to the tomb, which was awesome (an amazing rendition of TAPS was played each time). Wow, it was just an amazing experience to be there.
We spent some time on FaceTime watching the kids jump on the tramp and being jealous of all the people who were eating homemade ice cream!
Sunday, May 27, 2012
DC Part 1 of Many
In honor about this blog now being more about me than you... (wow, when I put it that way it sounds kind of rude!). An indulgent, indepth recap of my trip to DC. I tried to keep it bare bones for you. And I wrote this for our Bassett Family blog...so um, if I refer to "you guys" it means Blaine's family. Just an FYI :)
Friday May 11 -
I left Salt Lake about 10:30AM, I was relieved to sit by THE NICEST man in the world. He was probably 55-60 years old, owns a 600 acre cattle ranch in Kansas and was just a pleasure to talk to. It came up that I was mormon and he got a puzzled look on his face and asked, "wait, so, if you are mormon, what is your husband doing in DC?". Which made me laugh. Apparently he didn't realize that mormons were allowed to stray from the "homeland" :). We both had four hour layovers in the Denver airport and he was so kind and bought me lunch and kept me company for the layover. Probably seems weird to write so much about the person I sat next to on my first flight but it really changed the tone from being a scary thing to being a fun thing. So, be nice to people on planes! You never know when you are sitting next to someone who is terrified! (Unless they tell you, like I would!). Ha.
I got in to Washington Dulles around 9:30 that night. One of Blaine's co-workers (well, not exactly a co-worker...but an acquaintance who happens to be LDS as well) was so nice and offered to drive him to pick me up from the airport. We stopped at McDonalds for dinner and then he dropped us off at the Marriott Bethesda. Blaine had bought flowers for me, which was kind of a big deal since he had to drag them, along with his luggage around DC and the metro all day! The hot tub was closed, much to Blaine's dismay.
Saturday May 12 -
Our hotel had a shuttle to the metro, which was nice. To get down in to the metro you have to take the worlds longest escalator, which was a fun adventure.
Turns out I kind of have an irrational fear of mass transit too. The
subway kind of stressed (and grossed!) me out. I eventually got over that during the week, but it took a while : ) Our first destination was to Wingos. See-- being that this trip was sponsored by student loans, and that no matter what we did the trip was going to be pretty expensive, we did our best to save on hotels and meals. Groupon has a cool thing in big cities called "Groupon Now" where it posts a lot of deals that have to be used within a couple of hours. So we paid $5 for a $10 certificate at Wingos, and I had $5 of groupon credit, so this was a free meal. And we walked about two miles to get it :). Ha ha. It was literally a hole in the wall, but man, I've never tasted such good wings! The area Wingos was in was kind of a ritzy shopping district (Georgetown), it was fun to walk around and see Hugo Boss stores in really old buildings. I was in awe at how green the city was.
Oh also while we were eating our wings I had a nice conversation with a policeman, and being LDS came up again. Man, if you ever go to DC don't forget to take your pass along cards!
We then walked over to the Potomac where there was a big Crew race going on. It was kind of fun to watch for a while, seeing as how I've only ever seen people rowing in movies!
Then we rented a kayak. When I got in I kind of broke the seat. And as we were drifting while getting settled some dude in another kayak started freaking out, "watch my oar. Watch my oar! WATCH MY OAR!" And I was thinking, dude, I am not in control, you may want to get your oar out of my way. Oh well. Now we have a fun quote (WATCH MY OAR!). Since the crew race was going on (which the guy on the doc so kindly reminded us of as we started paddling that way), we headed South down the Potomac. Saw a dead fish. I had a panic attack because I thought I saw a snake. And finally about half an hour in to our hour rental we made it to see the back of the Lincoln Memorial :) It was pretty darn fun!
Then we walked around "the mall" and just kind of got the lay of the land and saw the memorials and monuments and the white house. Blaine showed me where he worked. I thought my feet were going to fall off. I can't remember what we had for dinner that night -- I think we took the hotel shuttle to a mall and ate at The Cheesecake Factory (don't worry, I only got an appetizer to save $$). Oh yeah, when the table next to ours got their meal Blaine said something like "dang! I wonder what that is, it looks good!" And the girl just turned and told us what they had ordered and offered us some, it was so funny. Turns out they were LDS and in town for a DoTerra convention (DoTerra is the essential oil company my granola neighbor sells for). They were really funny and nice, it was a mom with two of her TWELVE kids. Crazy. I can't imagine raising 12 kids here, but they must have gotten some stares raising 12 kids in Delaware where they were from!
We made it back in time to sit in the hot tub (thankfully!). And I think maybe this is the night that we were with three older women in the hot tub who had taken a road trip together to DC. We talked about the price of milk in our respective areas of the country : ) Oh and I had fun being cynical of the lifeguard who sat in the corner applying her makeup while kids were swimming in the pool. Awesome.
Wow, Maybe I better take this one day at a time so as to not write the worlds longest post!
Friday May 11 -
I left Salt Lake about 10:30AM, I was relieved to sit by THE NICEST man in the world. He was probably 55-60 years old, owns a 600 acre cattle ranch in Kansas and was just a pleasure to talk to. It came up that I was mormon and he got a puzzled look on his face and asked, "wait, so, if you are mormon, what is your husband doing in DC?". Which made me laugh. Apparently he didn't realize that mormons were allowed to stray from the "homeland" :). We both had four hour layovers in the Denver airport and he was so kind and bought me lunch and kept me company for the layover. Probably seems weird to write so much about the person I sat next to on my first flight but it really changed the tone from being a scary thing to being a fun thing. So, be nice to people on planes! You never know when you are sitting next to someone who is terrified! (Unless they tell you, like I would!). Ha.
I got in to Washington Dulles around 9:30 that night. One of Blaine's co-workers (well, not exactly a co-worker...but an acquaintance who happens to be LDS as well) was so nice and offered to drive him to pick me up from the airport. We stopped at McDonalds for dinner and then he dropped us off at the Marriott Bethesda. Blaine had bought flowers for me, which was kind of a big deal since he had to drag them, along with his luggage around DC and the metro all day! The hot tub was closed, much to Blaine's dismay.
Saturday May 12 -
Our hotel had a shuttle to the metro, which was nice. To get down in to the metro you have to take the worlds longest escalator, which was a fun adventure.
Turns out I kind of have an irrational fear of mass transit too. Thesubway kind of stressed (and grossed!) me out. I eventually got over that during the week, but it took a while : ) Our first destination was to Wingos. See-- being that this trip was sponsored by student loans, and that no matter what we did the trip was going to be pretty expensive, we did our best to save on hotels and meals. Groupon has a cool thing in big cities called "Groupon Now" where it posts a lot of deals that have to be used within a couple of hours. So we paid $5 for a $10 certificate at Wingos, and I had $5 of groupon credit, so this was a free meal. And we walked about two miles to get it :). Ha ha. It was literally a hole in the wall, but man, I've never tasted such good wings! The area Wingos was in was kind of a ritzy shopping district (Georgetown), it was fun to walk around and see Hugo Boss stores in really old buildings. I was in awe at how green the city was.
Oh also while we were eating our wings I had a nice conversation with a policeman, and being LDS came up again. Man, if you ever go to DC don't forget to take your pass along cards!
We then walked over to the Potomac where there was a big Crew race going on. It was kind of fun to watch for a while, seeing as how I've only ever seen people rowing in movies!
Then we rented a kayak. When I got in I kind of broke the seat. And as we were drifting while getting settled some dude in another kayak started freaking out, "watch my oar. Watch my oar! WATCH MY OAR!" And I was thinking, dude, I am not in control, you may want to get your oar out of my way. Oh well. Now we have a fun quote (WATCH MY OAR!). Since the crew race was going on (which the guy on the doc so kindly reminded us of as we started paddling that way), we headed South down the Potomac. Saw a dead fish. I had a panic attack because I thought I saw a snake. And finally about half an hour in to our hour rental we made it to see the back of the Lincoln Memorial :) It was pretty darn fun!
Then we walked around "the mall" and just kind of got the lay of the land and saw the memorials and monuments and the white house. Blaine showed me where he worked. I thought my feet were going to fall off. I can't remember what we had for dinner that night -- I think we took the hotel shuttle to a mall and ate at The Cheesecake Factory (don't worry, I only got an appetizer to save $$). Oh yeah, when the table next to ours got their meal Blaine said something like "dang! I wonder what that is, it looks good!" And the girl just turned and told us what they had ordered and offered us some, it was so funny. Turns out they were LDS and in town for a DoTerra convention (DoTerra is the essential oil company my granola neighbor sells for). They were really funny and nice, it was a mom with two of her TWELVE kids. Crazy. I can't imagine raising 12 kids here, but they must have gotten some stares raising 12 kids in Delaware where they were from!
We made it back in time to sit in the hot tub (thankfully!). And I think maybe this is the night that we were with three older women in the hot tub who had taken a road trip together to DC. We talked about the price of milk in our respective areas of the country : ) Oh and I had fun being cynical of the lifeguard who sat in the corner applying her makeup while kids were swimming in the pool. Awesome.
Wow, Maybe I better take this one day at a time so as to not write the worlds longest post!
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