Thursday, September 24, 2009

The Journey that Never Ends

"Life doesn't always turn out the way you plan. I just wish I'd realized at the time, he was talking about MY life."

  -Lucy (played by Sandra Bullock) in While You Were Sleeping
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I tend not to bear my heart and soul on this blog.  Mainly, I get uncomfortable when others are extremely open with their feelings online so I figure I better keep mine in check as to not inflict the same awkwardness on others.  However, I figure I can let things out once in awhile.  This is who I am, after all. 

Trials.  We all have them.  We all struggle from time to time.  Death, sickness, unemployment, divorce. 

My biggest trial is infertility.  I thought the day I gave birth to Elisabeth that this trial was officially over.  The years of losing babies, expensive infertility treatments, tests and secretly disliking any woman who could get pregnant on their own were over.  I was happy to put those dark years behind me and be grateful for the wonderful blessing I now have running through my house, drinking out of the dog dish and saying "No" even when she means yes. 

Boy, was I ever wrong.  Little did I know after you have one child, you are now graduated to the secondary infertility club.  One miscarriage and another failed treatment proves this realization. Elisabeth wasn't the end to my problems having children. She was just a blessed peak in a reproductive life filled with valleys.  I have quite a few friends who can't or never were able to have children.  I feel so blessed to have the sweet girl I have now.  So why the frustration?

I still occasionally grieve for the sweet, naive dreams I had as a newly wed of our six (yes, I wanted six children.) equally spaced children filling our home with happiness.  With the rates of IVF and my age slowly creeping past 30, I doubt there will ever be six.  I am not even 100% sure there will be more than one.  Isn't that silly?  Grieving for a dream?  Maybe so.  Yet, it is who I am.

One thing is for sure.  God has a plan for me.  I know this with a surety.  Will Elisabeth ever have another sibling?  I am sure she will.  If treatments don't work, adoption is definitely an option.  I pray ever day that I can  BE STILL and know God is in charge of my life. Just bare with me as we continue on this infertility journey that never ends. . . Some days are hard.  Others are better.  Yet is is never easy.


Graduate school is my saving grace right now.  If I can't be the old woman who lives in a shoe, getting an education in something that I am passionate about is a wonderful alternative.  Maybe what I was meant to do all along.

Enough of making myself vunerable.  Stay tuned for cute videos and ramblings about the life of a mother/graduate student/wife/dog owner.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Livin' on a Prayer

Lance likes to make me CDs with "cool" music on them. There is one he made a few months ago in my car that I listen to almost every day. These eclectic CDs include an varied mix - for example The Beach Boys, Jason Mraz, The Mormon Tabernacle choir, The Red Hot Chili Peppers and Harry Conick Jr. are all on this particular CD. I often skip over songs of which I am not fond or not really in the mood to hear- such as Bon Jovi's Livin' on a Prayer.

Today I skipped to the next track when I heard the first strains of Livin' on a Prayer. Elisabeth started to freak out - waving her hands and saying "no, no, no."

Me: What? Do you want to listen to the song?
Elisabeth: (nods her head "yes.")

I turned back to the Bon Jovi song and my baby girl proceeded to ROCK OUT to this song. She even sang along to the "Whoa...Whoa. . Livin' on prayer" part as she rocked back and forth in her car seat and then nodded her head in time to the song. I wish I wasn't driving and had my camera.

I decided I need to make my own CD so I can persuade her to give up this odd obsession with 80s music. One 80s music lover in the family is all I can take.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Of Beagles and Babies

I love our dog. . . I love how she snores in her sleep, has a need to be in the same room with one of us at all times, plays tug of war with Elisabeth, and sighs when she is displeased with something. She is the most loving and adoring dog I have ever met.

But, there are times when I dislike our dog. I dislike how she digs after the mole in our backyard, creating her own little irrigation ditch. I dislike how she constantly is jumping up to the counter or Elisbeth's highchair to steal food. I dislike how she has a need to bury things in the back yard, dig them up a month or so later, and then hide them in any blanket she can find.

Tonight I have decided I definitely dislike her as much as I love her. I was sitting in the comfy rocking chair in my bedroom, reading Elisabeth her bedtime stories, when in runs our dog, desperate to get on our bed. After four struggling attempts to make the jump from our floor to the bed, Sofi finally makes it. She then heads straight our pillows, which I notice are stacked on top of each other as to form a tent like structure. Sofi begins to pull each layer of this tent off with her teeth until she uncovers what is obviously her treasure.

Great. She brought in some filthy, mud-laden bone from the backyard and buried it under my pillows. I was pretty sure I was going to kill her. Not wanting interrupt the bedtime routine, I make an attempt to ignore my dog nosing around for her goody. However, I noticed that the dog is not grabbing a bone and scampering away, like usual. Instead, she is going in, taking a bite of something very chewy and coming up for air. Images of the grossest thing imaginable (like some feces from the backyard that we forgot to pick up) race through my mind and I decide I have to intervene. As soon as I stand up to go see what is happening, Sofi lunges for the rest of whatever it is and bolts. There, in her mouth, is something at least a foot long. From where I stood, it looked like a huge piece of fungus or a piece of rotting wood from a fence. Of course I am not fast enough to catch the little scoundrel but after some investigation, discover my bed smells like wet yeast.

Then it dawns on me - The loaf of lingonberry bread my friends delivered yesterday was suspiciously missing from the MIDDLE of my dining room table. Yes, folks. Sometime between 4- 7:00 p.m. tonight, my dog jumped on the table, found the bread, ripped the ziplock bag off the bread and buried it under my pillows and sheets for safekeeping. Gotta love this dog.

So, after putting an exhausted baby to bed, changing my sheets, finding the dog and scolding her loud enough so my neighbors could hear, and putting off my homework to write this blog post, I decided I could give this dog away for a week. Maybe even a month.

Only her baby sister loves her too much. I can't imagine how Elisabeth would get through her days without having her pup to pet and love. And, if I dig down into my heart, I realize I feel the same.

Sofi - you are one spoiled and lucky dog.

Elisabeth giving Sofi "loves."

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Move over Beethoven

video

Isn't she talented? Enthusiastic as well. I have a feeling we will be doing dance & piano lessons in a few years.

Sweet Tooth

As I was preparing to head to the pool for a swim this afternoon, it occurred to me that it was a little too quiet in our house - home to a busy toddler who often babbles and jabbers as she plays. Following my maternal instinct, I quickly ran out to the kitchen to see what Elisabeth was doing. I noticed the pantry door ajar and when I peeked around the counter, this amusing sight met my eyes:


In case you are having a hard time deciphering what it is our daughter is doing, allow me to explain. Here is our swimsuit honey, helping herself to fistfuls of powdered sugar. We actually only let her have sugar on occassion (come on - you know Chunka Munka doesn't need the extra empty calories when she eats heartily at every meal) but now I know our little girl has a sweet tooth. I scolded her half-heartedly and this is the look she gave me:

It is as though she is saying "Yummy. You should try some, Mama!"

After I took the box away and washed the sticky fingers of a sobbing little girl, I immediately called her Papa to relay the story, share some laughs and offer an ultimatum; Install childproof locks on our pantry door by noon tomorrow or no BYU football game until they are installed. Before you think I am a demading wife, let me reassure you this is not the first request. I have caught Elisabeth walking around the house on many occassions, eating from our raisin bran cereal box . My guess is it can only get worse from here. Good thing she didn't find the chocolate chips!

I feel so lucky to have this little rascal to brighten my days.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Remember

"Where there is pain, there is still feeling and where there's feeling, there's hope."
- Nicholas Evans, The Horse Whisperer

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I spent some time this morning watching the coverage of the 9/11 Memorial at Ground Zero in New York. As all of the names of those lost in the attacks on 9/11/01 were being read off by family members, I couldn't help but cry myself. Though I didn't know anyone personally that was lost that day or in the war that followed, I do know what it is like to experience personal loss and heartache and my own tender heart mourns with those that mourn today.

My friend Lindsay made this post on her blog that I wanted to share. Lindsay is always better with words than I am and she penned the sentiments in my heart better than I could. Though my patriotism is not always apparent, I am so grateful to be a member of this country and to have the freedoms we have.

Let's us always remember to have hope.