Some good news. Finally.

For the past four months, the phrase "when it rains, it pours" has been so ridiculously applicable to my life. Bad news after bad news was flung in my direction, and there wasn't much I could do except stand there and let it hit me. There were the few scares with Carter, then losing him, then not being able to get a job, and then I found out that my thyroid wasn't working properly. It was super over-active, to the point that it would affect our ability to get pregnant again until it got fixed. And like, realistically, thyroid problems are super common and very easily treatable, but at the time it was like the straw that broke the camel's back, you know? (side note: that phrase has been running through my head for the past two weeks so sorry if I sound like an old person) I left an appointment with the endocrinologist feeling so upset and discouraged. He said my thyroid looked pretty bad, and told me about what options we would have if my bloodwork came back bad.

Educational point: There are two different types of hyperthyroid disease my doctor was going to test for. Hashimoto's is the less severe of the two, and I had already for sure been diagnosed with at least that. Hashimoto's ebbs and flows, and eventually goes away on its own. Graves disease, on the other hand, does not go away on it's own. The over-production of hormone basically causes the thyroid to burn out. To prevent that, you either have to have it surgically removed, or take a radioactive iodine pill to kill part or all of the thyroid. And then you take thyroid supplements for the rest of your life.

The doctor kept asking me what I would rather do, the surgery or the iodine, and I just kept asking him what the chances were that it wasn't Graves. He didn't seem optimistic about it, so the appointment ended with me crying at the nurse about how my life is the worst . When I left his office, I was set on the iodine, because the thought of surgery terrifies me. But then, over the course of the week, I changed my mind and decided to do surgery. With the iodine, you have to kind of be in quarantine for a few days, and the thought of not being able to sleep in the same bed as Brandon, and the fear of the cats accidentally touching me, was enough to dissuade me. So all week I was pumping myself up for surgery, knowing that the results would be Graves disease, and I was just okay with it. Surgery wouldn't be great, but it would at least be fast. 

Fast forward to yesterday. I had so much anxiety all day about my appointment, because I just wanted to know what the results of the labs had been. They had just gotten my results the day before, but I don't think the doctor had a chance to look over them soon enough for a nurse to call me back. Anyway. Brandon joined me at the appointment, because I was kind of freaking out, so we both sat in the room, waiting, while the doctor read over the results and didn't say a single word. I'm not kidding, he called me in, we sat, he silently read over the report for like three minutes and didn't say a word the whole time. Brandon and I just kept looking at each other like what the heck. I had been so patient (sort of) all day, and those three minutes about killed me. Finally, years later, he started talking, and it turns out that my hormone levels dropped, which means I don't have Graves!! My levels are still high, but they dropped quite a bit since the last time I'd had my blood drawn. But what was important is that I don't have to get surgery, and I am very very happy about that!

One of two things will happen now. Either my levels will drop to their normal level, and then stabilize, which is great, or they will drop, drop, and keep dropping until basically my thyroid dies out on its own. Not ideal, but it's so easy to supplement thyroid hormone that it's not a big deal. Either way, we are a quite a few months out from being "normal" (to which my dad responded "well that's how you've always been right? two months out from normal?" still not funny dad) regardless of which direction my thyroid goes. I'll go get my blood drawn once a month, and we'll just monitor it and see what we need to do. Obviously I'd rather be healthy now, but I'm okay with temporary unhealthiness and no surgery haha.

I haven't blogged much since I found all this out at the end of December because, quite frankly, I just didn't feel like there was much to talk about. I feel like I've been so positive over the past few months, but the last couple weeks have been really rough. I'm real in what I write on the blog, but sometimes it's exhausting to even be honest with myself. I just needed to shut down for a little while and take care of myself. If I've learned one thing from all this, it's about how to take care of myself, and pay a little extra attention to me when I need it. but I'm back in action now, and feeling happier after our news yesterday. 

And if that wasn't enough to cheer me up, just wait and see what we're doing this weekend.

I'm tired.

Now that so many of my friends have kids, I hear pretty often about how terrible it is when little Johnny stops taking naps. And I just think to myself, these kids have no idea how much they'll miss naps when they're older. If I could take over napping for them, I totally would.

I started my new job on Wednesday last week, and despite the fact that I have to get out of bed before nine (wayyyy before nine), I actually am enjoying it. It's very different from what I'm used to, being in the midst of chaos and crazy in the schools, but it's good in a different way. I do miss the kids and working with a lot of people, but the people I work with are very nice, and the work keeps me busy, which is important. I'm still getting the hang of things, but so far I feel like I'm doing a good job!

I'm still not quite used to leaving the house for nine hours a day, though. Even though some days were a little lonely and boring at home, I got used to being with the cats in a comfortable setting all day. I miss it! I was really grateful for the long weekend; it gave me the chance to hang out with Brandon and friends, and also catch up on sleep. I've been having a hard time getting used to my new schedule, since before this job I was up until about midnight every night. Last night I actually fell asleep on the couch around eight, but when I went upstairs to bed at 9:30, I was awake until just past midnight. 5:15 comes early every morning though, no matter what time I go to bed the night before.

The past week has been kind of rough. I'm dealing with some medical things (we can discuss that at a later date) on top of our loss, and honestly it just doesn't feel fair. I know there are worse things that could happen, but I just feel like the hard things never end. When we were in the hospital delivering Carter, my contractions came about every 45 seconds or so, and I didn't really have a chance to breathe. That's basically how I feel now; kind of like I'm drowning and can't seem to get my head above water. Getting this job was a huge relief, but I'd be stupid to think good things are going to keep happening. That sounds super pessimistic, but that's just how my life is right now. I'm quite proud of myself for how positive I've been throughout all of this. I believe that everything will work itself out, so I just have to keep plugging along and taking care of myself. Hard things happen, but like Brandon keeps telling me, we're all stronger than we think we are. 

The kindness of strangers.

A few weeks before Christmas I got a message on Instagram from a lady I didn't know. She had attached a drawing she had done of someone else's baby that had passed away, and asked if she could draw Carter for us. She said she had stumbled across one of my pictures on her search page. I don't know what prompted her to click on it, but I'm so glad she did. The drawing came in the mail the other day, and I am just so grateful for this kind stranger and the wonderful thing she does for parents like Brandon and me.

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Hiccups.

Honestly, sometimes I just don't know what to title my posts. I have had the hiccups like ten times in the past week and it's driving me crazy!!! One day last week I had them four times in one day. I was afraid I'd be one of those headline stories: "Girl has hiccups for fifteen years straight, doctors can't find cure." The worst.

Anyway, we're almost a third of the way through January, and this winter is shaping up to be better than I anticipated for our first winter back in Utah. Boise has gotten way more snow than we have, and have had four snow days! I can remember having like, one while I was in school. There was one the first year I worked in the school district there, but four?? It's so crazy. And even Logan had a snow day last week too, which for real never happens. It snowed Wednesday night here, but by late Thursday morning, everything on the roads had either turned to slush or was gone. And one of those days last week, I think Friday, gave us the bluest skies we have seen in a while. It was nice.

I had two jobs interviews last week: one in the district office for the school district I worked in before we lost Carter, and one at an eye center just five minutes away from us. I didn't feel great about my interview with the district, so I came home feeling kind of disappointed. The interview at the eye center went swimmingly, despite the fact that they had my old resume instead of my current one. Their application portal is one that uses your resume to build your profile, so when I clicked apply, it just had me update my work history, not my resume, and I guess they just printed that off. I felt so dumb, but I played it cool, and they didn't just say oh, well never mind you can go. At one point, we started talking about movies, because they asked what I liked to do for fun. The lady that was interviewing me said she had taken her daughters to see Sing, and I told her I loved it.

And then I said this: "The part where the yak keeps farting? I kept laughing so hard. My husband just turned to me and said 'you are a child.' But fart jokes are funny!"

I literally said "fart jokes are funny" during an interview. There are more embarrassing things I probably could have said, but I figured my shot at the job went out the window at that point. But the next day they called me and scheduled a second interview, so I guess it wasn't too bad! The interview was set for Wednesday, but I got a call from the school district today and was offered the job!! I start on Wednesday, and am super ready to get back at it. The director of the department said that he was very impressed with me, and that my references had great things to say about me (references, if you're reading this, thank you!). I was kind of worried what he would say when I asked about flexibility for appointments (he already knew we lost Carter, even though it thankfully didn't come up in the interview) and he was so kind about it. That alone will make the job great. I'm very excited about it!

The same day as my interviews, I went to lunch with the nurse that helped deliver Carter. Sometimes you meet people and have an instant connection, and that's how it was with her. We'll always have a special bond because of Carter, but we are real friends now too! I'm so awkward sometimes that I am just terrible at making friends, but lunch just felt really natural, and I can't wait to hang out with her again.

That's about all that is new. We have really been enjoying our weekends at home together. Over New Years we built a bench for our entryway, and hung up stuff around the house. When we bought a dresser for the nursery, part of it was kind of dinged up, so they sent us a new top and we got to keep the old one. The old top is the seat of the bench, so it's kind of neat! But it has been super nice just to relax and be home; not having a job has gotten me super attached to our house haha. It's crazy to think that exactly a year ago today we put the offer in. We have lived in this house longer than we lived in our last one!

Ps...the title picture? For anyone that has given me a blanket in the last few months, just know that that cats and I are enjoying them!

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Good riddance.

Eff you, 2016. And yes, that’s how I really feel.

This year has been the best and worst year of my life, and I’m not sure which feeling trumps the other. All I know is that I’m ready for this year to be over. Not to leave this year behind, but to open yet another chapter of our lives, and continue forward.

We spent New Years Eve last year in Paris, and spent New Years Day in Disneyland Paris. I don’t think another New Years Eve will ever compare to that! When we got back from Paris, we had less than a week to get Brandon all packed to move to Utah. We moved him down there, found me a job, and put an offer on our second house. He started his new job on January 11th. At the end of the month, Brandon and his family, along with my family, helped us pack our whole house into a trailer, and we said goodbye to our life in Boise.

I started my new job on February 1st, and we closed on our house ten days later. Valentine’s day was spent unpacking boxes, with just a small break for dinner at Olive Garden. The next day, Brandon left for a ten day training in California.

I turned 25 at the beginning of March, and my family came down to celebrate, at which point we realized how grateful we were for all the space in our new house. The day after they went home, we found out I was pregnant. I was so glad I hadn’t known before, because I’m awful with secrets. Two weeks later, we flew to Disneyland to meet my family over spring break, and we broke the news to them before we started our walk down Main Street. That weekend was Easter, and we told Brandon’s family that Sunday afternoon.

April was pretty uneventful. I saw Justin Bieber in concert with Caroline and her sister, and muddled through nausea until we could finally tell the world we were pregnant. We also went to St. George to spend a weekend with Austin and Caroline before they moved.

Brandon turned 28 at the beginning of May! I went to Seattle with Alycia, and Brandon and I went to Disneyland (again) and Universal Studios with Alyssa and Jake. While we were in Disneyland, we announced that we were going to be blessed with a little baby boy.

June was welcomed with open arms. My baby bro graduated from high school, and Brandon and I had a whole week of playing before he left for another ten days of training. The morning before he left, the day after Father’s Day, he got to feel the baby kick for the first time. He made it back just in time for our vacation, which leads us into July.

We spent the Fourth of July with his family in Washington DC. It was fun to be in the most patriotic (and hottest) place in the country. We spent our nights feeling the little babe wiggle and kick. After DC, we flew to New York and had a week there by ourselves. We had the best time sightseeing and eating all the food.

August had Brandon in New Orleans for a week doing some more training (although it sounds more like playing to me). We celebrated our 5th anniversary, and went to Idaho Falls to watch my cousin get married.

September started in the best way. We got to watch my brother marry his cute wife in Lake Tahoe, and it was one of my favorite days. I love them both so much, but I love them together even more. We had some baby showers, got the nursery all ready, and spent a whole Saturday washing all the baby clothes and blankets.

October was spent anticipating the arrival of our little man. We took maternity pictures, and spent so much time in the nursery counting down the days. Then on October 26th my whole world shattered, and honestly nothing else from then on matters. I’ve been unemployed for the last nine weeks, we spent the holidays with family, and we’re still just trying to recover. Our weekends are spent confused, because we don’t have Carter at home to take care of.

The internet crashed the first time I was writing this and I got so mad that I had to write it twice. It’s hard to think about the fact that this whole year revolved around Carter, and now there’s nothing. A whole lot of buildup only to be let down so hard by the universe. Not even let down, just dropped. So honestly, 2016 can go to hell, because I’ve never been so hurt by someone or something in my entire life.

Update: I wrote this yesterday, and yesterday was a pretty hard day. And it really is hard to think about all the build up to bring Carter home, and then having him taken from us. 2016 really was the best and worst year of my life. But I know there is more to come in 2017, and I hope that the ending will be better than this year's.

I like the view from up here.

After we lost Carter, so many kind people gave us special gifts with so much meaning behind them. All the material things we've been given make me so happy, because it's just one more thing to hold or to look at that reminds me of Carter. 

We have a few airplane ornaments for him that we put on our tree at home: one we bought at Hobby Lobby, one handmade by a good friend of mine (it's a clear glass ball with whispy white feathers at the bottom, and a little blue airplane hanging from the top; it's my favorite), and red biplane ornament given to us by a friend of the Robbins family. When we were taking the ornaments off the tree, I wanted to put the red plane back in the box it came from. On the flap of the box, as I was closing it, I saw that it says "I like the view from up here."

The creators of the ornament, or at least the phrase on the box, probably didn't intend for the airplane to represent a child that was lost too soon, but the words were a tender reminder to me that Carter isn't suffering. He's watching over us, and he is with us in everything we do. Even though he wasn't there with us physically while we took the ornaments off the tree, he was watching us, and apparently liking the view.

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Two months.

At 8:51 am every Thursday, and on the 27th of each month, times seems to stop. I'm awake for it every time. Whether it's hours before or just minutes, I'm awake for it every single time.

For nine months, I counted down the number of weeks and now, I'm counting up. And it's not counting up the age of our baby; I'm counting up from the worst day of my life, holding myself in its misery and beauty because I never want to forget a single second of it.

This has become my new normal. Lack of sleep not from late night feedings and changings, but from late night thoughts and tears. Lack of social interaction not because we have a newborn taking all our time and energy, but because social anxiety peaks in grief. New traditions started not at home with a baby, but at the cemetery with our baby below us. 

The new normal has positives too. A newfound strength in Brandon and myself individually, but also in our marriage. A love so deep and so strong that I didn't know was humanly possible. A new confidence in myself to rely on others and let them take care of me. A deeper appreciation for things that really matter.

But it has been two months since we lost Carter, and I would gladly give up my new normal for a different kind of normal. One that includes him here at home, and us being tired, overjoyed, parents of a newborn. I would never trade this experience to never have had him at all, but I would give anything for him to be here right now.
 

Warning: sad post.

The past ten days have kicked my butt.

There’s not really a way to describe my grief, I can only tell you that it comes and goes. Usually it comes and goes over the course of days, but the past week or so it has come and go over the course of hours. Sometimes I’m okay, playing with the cats or laughing with Brandon, but the times I’m not are hard. There are the tiny, quiet tears that get cried when I’m thinking about the awful, beautiful 24 hours we spent at the hospital, and then there are the loud, painful cries that come when I fully think about what we lost. I just feel really really empty.

Everything we do right now just feels wrong. We're missing a person for all these families thing we're going to. We went to two movies this week, but we shouldn't be doing anything but staying at home because of the baby. I'm getting roughly nine straight hours of sleep every night when I should only be getting maybe two at a time. I read a whole book in one day when I shouldn't be having any time to do anything for myself. I don't want to do anything for myself. And I don't really care for Christmas right now either. I usually love Christmas, but this year I just want it to be over. All the things we had planned to do for the holiday we had planned to do with a baby. I'm ready for it all to be over.

I just have all this love that built up inside of me over the nine months, and now I have nowhere to direct it, no baby to give it to, so it's exploding out of me in anger, confusion, and sadness. I don't know what I did to deserve all this. Bad things happen to good people, I know that, but I can't help feel like I'm walking around with this target on my back waiting for more bad things to be hurled at me.

One of the worst things about all of this is that I just feel like I'm back to where I was eleven months ago. Eleven months ago we moved back to Utah, I started a new job, and we had been trying to get pregnant for six months. And now here I am, looking for a job, and hoping it doesn't take us six months to get pregnant again. It's like the last eleven months never even happened. The only evidence I have that I was ever pregnant is the line on my stomach that is quickly fading, and one lone stretch mark that I hope never goes away.

Today is not one of those days where I write out my feelings, then suck it up and try to have a good day. Today I don't want to.

I'm not writing this for sympathy, I'm writing it for others that have experienced a loss. It's okay to have good days, and it's okay to have super crappy days. Every emotion is important, every emotion is valid. Grief is just love with nowhere to go, so let yourself grieve, and let yourself love.

Collateral beauty.

Last night we went to see Collateral Beauty. I wanted to go last night, rather than on a cheap Tuesday, because I knew it was going to make me cry, and I would rather cry in front of fifteen strangers instead of ninety. I did cry, but not entirely out of sadness. In the movie, Will Smith's character loses his six year old daughter. We lost Carter, but losing an unborn child is different than losing one you have spent years with; I couldn't fully relate to his loss, I only know my own.

But I cried because the message of the movie is something I've been striving for since the afternoon of October 26th. In the movie, a character says "just make sure you notice the collateral beauty," which is far easier said than done. But I've been trying. 

There have been a few situations in the past weeks that could have been perceived as super, super crappy, or actually kind of neat, and I've realized that it is up to me how I perceive them. When I was buying a Christmas tree at Hobby Lobby for the rest of Carter's ornaments and the cashier announced overhead "we need Christmas tree BB as in baby boy to the registers," the collateral beauty was not being angry that they use baby boy as the identifier, but noticing that the universe somehow knew what I was using the tree for. Collateral beauty is hearing the lady in the Sizzler bathroom tell someone she is going to name her baby Carter, and me not getting mad, but telling her that we named our son that, that we lost him at 39 weeks, and having her tell me that she lost her first. Collateral beauty is wanting to be upset about the dry skin between and under my eyebrows, but suddenly appreciating it when I remember that Carter had the same dry skin in the same spots. Collateral beauty is having a package of ours delivered to the wrong house, getting a random text from the lady that received it, and having her tell me that she has been in our shoes twice, and getting the biggest hug from a stranger that I've ever been given.

Sometimes I think about certain things that have happened, and wonder if I'm just making up the beauty and the special meaning of it all. I wonder how on earth I can try and tell people how situations like these make my heart feel lighter and heavier at the same time without them thinking I'm a crazy person. But then I remember that it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if I think I'm crazy or if other people think I'm crazy-unless I'm having conversations out loud with no one, then someone get me some help. What matters is how I perceive things, and how I choose to grieve. And most of the time, not every second of every day, but most of the time, I choose to perceive things in light and in beauty. Life is too short to not appreciate every minute, even the bad ones.