We have great friends

We went to church in our old ward today to attend a baby blessing for our friends Art and Maureen's baby girl Mia. It was so fun to see everyone there that we've missed so much. It was also surprisingly emotional for me.

When we moved to our townhouse in Boise and attended church for the first time we had been trying to get pregnant for two years already and were really, really struggling with that. As we met and got to know more people at our church it became clear to us that we had been guided there for a reason. There were many other couples our age that we quickly became close with that were having the same problems. It made such a difference to us to have sympathetic friends who knew exactly what we were dealing with, who were experiencing the same struggles. Now, two years later, we all have children. Every single one of us. And today as I sat next to Maureen in that familiar chapel, holding my sweet daughter on my lap and watched her rock her long-awaited baby to sleep I was so thankful to my Heavenly Father for two things: as always, I was grateful for the miracle of my baby girl and I was also so thankful for good friends.

The great people that we came in contact with in our church have helped me through the most difficult trial that I have experienced so far. As it says in this article (it's great, check it out) some say that religion is a "crutch". And, I must admit that I've used it as one. I've relied on the faith of others when mine wasn't up to par. I've attended church because I knew I was "supposed to" even when I've been angry and empty inside. And my religion has always been there for me. But it's more that just something to lean on. It's also made me stronger. My religion and the people that share my faith have helped me heal.

As I sat next to Maureen today and sang Christmas hymns, and looked around at so many people who I love so much, I was so grateful for our time in the 16th ward and the friendships that we've made that I hope will last for a very long time.

Recovery

I'm wearing my glasses today. Letting my eyes rest from wearing contacts and staying up too late talking, or working hard searching snowy roads for icy patches late at night.

My hair is in a ponytail to give it a break from the blow drying and styling it receives daily.

I'm wearing my old jeans because all my nice pants are in the washer.

Speaking of clothes, the laundry room is piled high with stacks of clean laundry waiting to be folded. The washer and dryer have been going all morning and they're not done yet.

Our bed is un-made and stripped of it's linens, waiting to be made up with fresh clean sheets.

The baby is clean but her hair isn't done and she's wearing a purple monkey t-shirt with her sweat pants that are just a little too big.

We're recovering.

Justin had a mini-vacation and was home from work all last week. It's been great for him to have a break and Audrey and I have loved having him home. The only problem with that is that I don't like to clean while he's here. That's why I clean my house on Friday instead of on the "special day", Saturday, like the primary song says. I don't like to take time away from hanging out with him to scrub the bathroom.

So I don't.

I prefer to let the house go to chaos and spend time talking and watching movies and cooking and shopping and dreaming up whatever else we're going to do. A week of that, plus Christmas, means my house is a total mess.
Justin went back to work today. Walked out the door this morning looking dapper in his new shirt and tie. He's only working Monday and Tuesday and then has another long weekend for New Years, so today and tomorrow I'm rolling up my sleeves and getting to work. I need to vacuum and sweep and mop. I need to dust and wash and scrub. The bathroom towels need a bath themselves and the oven needs to be wiped down inside and out. I need to catch up on laundry from our trip and find a place for the kitchen set and stuffed animals and all the other toys from Santa that I've been tripping over all weekend. I need to do some wholesome cooking and get something in the fridge besides the leftover fudge and coconut candies that are sitting in there right now.

I'm a little excited. A clean house makes me happy.

So, if you knock on my door anytime during the next two days don't be offended when I don't answer. I'm either upstairs in the bathroom on my hands and knees scrubbing the tub and can't hear the doorbell or I'm hiding in the kitchen because you've caught me mid-sweep in my old jeans and glasses and ponytail.

It snowed again last night.

I used to love the winter weather and everything that came with it. Cozy sweaters, hot chocolate, snuggling with my family indoors etc. And for the most part, I still do. But now there's another dimension to it that I didn't know about before.

Now I worry when my husband pulls the car out of the garage and leaves the safety of our house to head out onto icy streets.Now I have an angry cat named Chester who sits on top of his cat house, snoopy style, and scowls at me through the back door when I walk past. I can hear what he's thinking: "You told me it would be fun to live outside."
"Get in your house!", I yell through the glass at him. "It's warm in your house!"
But he just sits on top of it in all his fury and shivers so I know how cold he is.

The other thing I hate about winter? Cold and flu season. Because we're sick.

Justin stayed home from work yesterday and we didn't even do anything fun, just sat on the couch wrapped in blankets, watched inauguration coverage, and listened to each other sneeze and sniff and cough.

And because of the sneezing and sniffing and coughing I can't sleep.

And when I do, Audrey wakes me up. Because she's sick too.

But even when I'm walking through the dark to her room for the 5th or 6th time that night, I can't be upset. Because in that room is a crib with a little girl who sits up when she sees me in the doorway and stretches out her hands. I pick her up and wrap her in a blanket and rock her and she lays her head on my shoulder.

As I sway back and forth I wonder how much more time I have to feel her silky, knotted baby hair against my neck and cheek, to listen to her breathing, to feel her arm draped over my shoulder. I try not to be pessimistic, but through all this I've learned to be realistic. I know that this baby may be my last.

I rock her for longer than I need to.

But then she's asleep and I lay her down carefully and sneak out of her room and crawl back into bed with my sleeping husband.

And I know that even with the snow, and angry cats, and sniffly noses that

I'm one lucky girl.

5 Years

There aren't many of our wedding pictures that turned out just right. It wasn't anyone's fault, our photographer was great and so many people, especially our great families, worked so hard to have everything just how we wanted it. Which we're still grateful for. But, certain circumstances happened that prevented me from getting the perfect wedding picture.
When we were married on November 28, 2003 it was so cold and the wind was blowing so hard that I couldn't wear my dress outside to get pictures in front of the temple. The pictures we do have are of me in a grey skirt and black jacket and Justin in his suit. Justin and I, and everyone else, are smiling but we all look very, very cold. When I look at the pictures of our reception the next day, I notice the dated backdrop and how my hair went flat after just a few minutes. We had black ribbons hanging on the backdrop that look like horns coming out of Justin's Dad's head in a few of the family shots. We even have a killer picture of Justin and I dancing but it's not in the middle of a beautiful dance floor surrounded by lights and family. It happened after everyone had gone, in the middle of cleaning up, on a basketball gym floor and there are folded up tables in the background.
I had a lot of dreams and plans about my wedding and reception. BIG plans. Some of them happened, a lot of them did not. But, when you look through my wedding album, you'll see me smiling in every single picture. And not a posed, lovely demure smile. No, I'm grinning ear to ear, the kind of smile that shows too much of my teeth and makes my cheeks look huge. And that's what makes me love those pictures.
I was so happy that day not because I had a perfect dress or reception, but because I was marrying Justin. And I'm smiling and laughing in all those pictures because that's what he does for me. He makes me smile and laugh all day long. Our wedding wasn't the perfect storybook wedding, and we haven't had the perfect storybook marriage. But being with Justin has made me not only overlook the imperfections, it makes me love them. Our marriage has been a lot like my wedding album. Nothing is perfect, there have been problems and trials...

but I still can't stop smiling.

A little while ago Justin asked me if I still get my hopes up. If, despite the years of failure and disappointment, I still wonder and hope and pray every month when I'm a little late on my cycle.

Since Audrey has come into our lives, so many things have changed. The grief and sadness and anger that accompanied our infertility have magically disappeared. Over night. I don't cry at night anymore. Instead of tearing up at the mention of anything baby related I'm laughing all day long at my funny daughter. Instead of dreading church and it's focus on raising families, I'm embracing it and loving so much that I can be included. I don't count days of the month and chart ovulation anymore, I don't spiral into a weepy mess when my unwelcome period comes yet again. I'm too busy snuggling this beautiful, sweet, wiggly miracle that I get to call my daughter.

If Audrey is the only child we have we will be happy and count our blessings and thank our Heavenly Father for her and everyone that helped bring her to us for the rest of our lives.

But, we want to have more children. We want Audrey to have a little sister or brother.Whether I get pregnant or we adopt again really doesn't matter.




It really doesn't.

But, my answer to Justin's question? Do I still get a little hopeful and then a little disappointed?

I said, "Every time."

and Justin's response? "Me too."