Baby, Baby, Baby, OH! (crazy long)

I'm finally sitting at a computer instead of hunched over my phone, so before I forget all the details....

BIRTH STORY!

woot.

Friday, June 26th 2015

June Lueinna 6lbs 4 oz

and 

Chloe Rae 5lbs 14 oz

But we'll start a couple days early, say...on that Tuesday.

So Tuesday, June 23rd, Russ and I headed in for a routine OB appointment. My OB had been telling me I was going to go into labor "any day now"...for 4.5 weeks. If I had been physically capable, I would have kicked him in the face. 

I did the routine pee in a cup, blood pressure, yadda yadda, then stripped down and sat on the exam table. Dr. B came in and told me that my blood pressure was elevated and that there was protein in my urine and just to be safe, I needed to go to the hospital to have them check everything. 

"You may be having babies today, you may not. Just give me a call later and let me know"

...talk about non-chalant!

So we get to the hospital and all checked into triage around 2. My blood pressure was excellent the whole hour we were in there and just as I turn to Russell and say "I think they're going to send us home" a nurse opens the curtains and tells me my protein levels are about 50x what they'd like to see. Soooo, babies it is! 

We were admitted and checked into a birthing room. My mom and Hannah came and we all just hung around as the Drs and nurses got me hooked up on pit and, antibiotics, and an iv drip and a heart rate monitor for Chloe and a heart rate monitor for June and a contraction monitor for both of them. Needless to say, I wasn't going ANYWHERE.

We all ate lunch (if only I had known that would be the last solid thing I ate until Saturday night, I'd have GORGED myself)

Sparing no gory details, here we go....

START TIME 3PM TUESDAY

Over the next couple  hours, 4 nurses and 2 Dr.s came in and tried to find my cervix. Yes. it took that many people just to FIND it. The nurses were brainstorming who to ask next to take a go "ask so and so, she's really good" "so and so has long fingers"

me...omg....omg...no no no.

6 agonizing goes later, my cervix was located and I was informed that I was at a whopping 2. (cue crying)

The nurses continued to up my pitocin with no success. The monitors were picking up steady contractions, none of which I could feel, but nothing was progressing. I was so stressed because June kept moving and I'd lose her heart beat on the monitor (also, for some crazy brief space of time...due to some system glitch, they were picking up 3 heartbeats...uhhh s'cuse me? no.) so I had to lay really still.

8 PM TUESDAY

Dr B comes in to check on me and check my progress. I'm still only at a 2 and starting to feel contractions but nothing more than really uncomfortable period cramps. He informs me that he is going home for the day but he'd be back to check on my in the morning.

Cue the longest, sleepless night of my life.

before he leaves he informs me that I shouldn't eat anything until I get the go ahead.

8 AM WEDNESDAY 

Dr B comes in and wakes me up. After a long night of pitocin, he checks my progress and informs me that I am now at a 4 and mostly effaced. He breaks Chloe's water. He again informs me that he will be at the office and will most likely be there to deliver the girls unless it was after 10pm then it'd be his partner.

10 PM WEDNESDAY

Contractions are still just uncomfortable, but I need to sleep, they give me something in my IV that didn't necessarily make the pain go away so much as I just didn't care that I was uncomfortable...I was also completely lucid...but seeing purple trees.

I told me mom and Russell "I know what I'm saying right now, but I'm definitely seeing a ton of purple trees"

8 AM THURSDAY


So contractions are a real thing.  Russell was amazing staying by my side and helping by applying counter pressure when contractions would spike. They checked me again, Still at a 5. One of the nurses then tells me that Chloe is sunny side up....why nobody informed me of this until now, I have no idea. but they said that could potentially be the reason I'm not progressing.

I ask them what my options are, they say "well, we can try to manually turn her"
...yep. exactly how that sounds.

They were able to turn her from facing up to facing my left (she was on my right side).

I'm still not dialating and around 2 pm I was starting to get really nervous and asked about an epidural (dream birth, I'd have been in a birthing center with a tub, but...twins...and preeclampsia, so meh.) After talking a bit and weighing the odds of having to be knocked out if I went to a c section, I decided to get the epidural.

I was able to get some good sleep, but still felt tired when I woke up...maybe because I hadn't eaten since tuesday afternoon....

THURSDAY 8 PM
Dr B comes in and seems completely inconvenienced that I haven't had these babies yet. He asks me, so are we doing a c section or what are we doing here.

Well thanks for the vote of confidence jerk face.

I stumble over my words and tell him that I'd still like to try to have them vaginally. He huffs and puffs then says he has to go do a c section and that if I'm not ready to push by the time he's done we'll do a c section.

At this point, I've been hooked up to Iv's for so long that my legs and feet are already HUGE. I've been propped up on a birthing ball for hours but nothing seems to be helping.


Terrified, I turn to my nurse and ask her to do whatever it takes to help me. We restart pitocin. They try a foley bulb, and 'manual stretching' all sorts of awesomeness. My nurse suggests I turn off my epidural so that I might be able to feel my contractions and help them more... I do as she suggests and ish gets intense.

Obviously this is my first rodeo and I'm all in riding double, but from everything I've been told, pitocin makes contractions MUCH worse. At this point, I'm rocking over 30 hours of it in my system. My nurse JUST barely helps me dilate to a 10 as Dr B comes back in.

"she's ready to push!" she snaps at Dr. B
(ugh, I will never be able to express how grateful I was for her standing up for me)
He says, fine, let her push, I have another c section, keep me updated.



I start to push with contractions, but nothing feels like its progressing. My nurse ties some knots in a sheet and has Russell hold them as I pull on the other end to help push. We pull my knees to my chest. An hour goes by. Dr B comes back in and asks how things are going. He still seems like he just wants to go home.

I'm pretty close to agony, so not really concerned about him being a jerk, more just wondering if my body was going to rip in two.

It was almost calming how painful it was. Like all I was experiencing was pain so there wasn't anything else to think about or feel. I kept thinking of ways to define what I was feeling. The closes I came to was feeling like someone was crushing my bones and injecting them with acid.

That's the only thing I felt like came close to accurate.

Another half hour goes by and I'm exhausted. I'm starting to panic.

What if I only have the energy to get one baby out? I've been at this for over 30 hours and haven't eaten in almost as long. I look to Russell to tell me what to do, but he's a little freaked and just keeps saying "you're doing great"

Everyone is telling me that. It's starting to piss me off.

I roll onto my side and tell them I'm done but my nurse convinces me to keep going.

After 2-2.5 hours of active pushing, I give up. I again, roll to my side and bury my head under my arm. All I can say is "I can't" and "I'm sorry" over and over again.

They wheel me into the OR

I'm entirely naked, the room is freezing, I'm contracting and in the most pain I've ever felt by far. The anesthesiologist appears and tells me its going to be ok. He tells me what he is going to give me, but I just stare at him. I feel like its a huge accomplishment just to notice he had a face.

Finally the drugs kick in and the contractions stop and Russell is by my side.

As soon as the pain stopped I was fighting not to fall asleep. Like head lolling, eyes closing, chin dropping even though I'm laying flat. FIGHTING to not fall asleep.

I ask Russell if it's ok. I tell him I'm sorry I couldn't do it.

I'm numb, but I can feel the pressure of them cutting into my abdomen. I had asked to do skin to skin asap regardless of if I had a c section or not.

I had asked them to bring my babies to my breast as soon as they could.

The moment was finally here and I didn't care. I had no idea that that's how I would have felt. I wanted to care. I kept trying to care but I was SO tired and drugged and drained. I could feel them pushing my body. A c section is not a gentle process.

I hear Chloe cry and I look to Russell, he has tears in his eyes. They hold her over the blue curtain for a brief moment and it is the most surreal thing I have ever experienced. I force myself to acknowledge what just happened

"that's my daughter' I think.
'that's my daughter'
over and over

They call the time of birth 12:00 am Friday, but Russell later told me he was watching the clock and it was 11:58 on Thursday so technically the girls were born on different days.

but we're not done.

Chloe is gone and I don't remember hearing June cry. I don't remember them taking her out. The next thing I remember is a nurse coming around the curtain and saying 'here is your baby B' and pushing Junes forehead against mine.

Of all the moments I don't remember from the hospital...I will never forget that. The warmth of my baby's skin against my face. The first time I ever felt her outside of my belly. I still press my head against hers sometimes and I'm right there again.

They take June away and I look at Russell. He looks torn and asks me where he should go. I tell him go with the babies. He goes.

As soon as he leaves, I let myself fall asleep as they stitch me shut. I start to shake uncontrollably, like I'm freezing. The anesthesiologist is there to assure me it's ok. I'm so freaking tired I didn't even process what ok was. All I wanted to do was sleep.

More than seeing Russell, more than seeing my babies, more than anything in the world, all I wanted was to sleep. I hate that. but looking back I was so drugged up and my body had been through so much, my brain wasn't working in a way that let me revel in the bliss of having new babies.

They lift me onto another bed and roll me into the recovery room. There, I see Russell sitting in a chair with two bundled up babies. His eyes are glassy and he keeps saying "you did so good, you did so good"

My nurse appears again and massages my stomach and tries to help everything contract back down. A little bit of time goes by and at some point they bring June to me to nurse. I don't remember exactly, but I think she was too sleepy and wouldn't latch.

They bring Chloe to me. A nurse I've never seen grabs my breast and latches Chloe on then turns away. Not ungently, just efficiently? Regardless, I'm holding her and thinking, I should NOT be holding a baby right now. I'm so tired.

Then I notice Chloe's fingers and toes are blue, she arches her back weird and shoves her face into my chest. I pull her away and her lips are blue.

It was like a bad dream where you try to yell for help but nobody hears you. I can hear myself saying it, but I can't get myself to say it loud I just keep saying "she's blue. somebody help. she's blue" I hear a nurse say, yes her fingers were a little blue but after I keep saying it over and over they come to my side and realize she has turned almost completely blue. They take her from me and clear her airway. I find Russell in the crowd of people and tell him to go stay by June, who is across the room in a bassinet. He looks scared, but goes.

They wheel us all to a room and tell us...stuff, I don't remember. I look at the clock, it's 4am. I don't remember waking up to feed them. I don't remember anything for the next 4 hours I just slept until they came in and brought us to another room. The last thing I remember was asking Russell not to sleep. To watch them and keep their airways clear.

 The first day, I genuinely thought was 3 different days. I kept freaking out because I hadn't fed them. I couldn't get out of bed and they just wouldn't stay awake for any amount of time. I ask Russell to go ask the nurses to give them bottles. A lot of the first two days I just remember being scared and being in pain.

They won't latch and my milk isn't coming in. Every two hours, I try to latch for 15 minutes to half an hour then pump for 15 minutes then supplement with a bottle. Around the 4th day I start to get more than a drop of colostrum when I pump. The day before they let us go, Chloe's jaundice levels spike and she has to go under the lights for the  night.

They had her in her little bassinet in my room with a big blue lamp over her. The room was way too cold and she was just there alone in the middle of the room with just a diaper on. They said I could only take her out to feed her ever 2 hours. She would pull her goggles off and cry. I couldn't handle her being there so I had them put the light over my bed and took turns with Russell laying in the bed and having her sleep on our chests against our skin. it was the only way she wouldn't cry.



I can't remember, but I think we finally went home on a wednesday.
We made it 2 minutes from the hospital before I made Russell pull over so I could check on them.

It definitely wasn't the birth experience I would have chosen, or that I had hoped for and it was weeks before I felt like I wasn't in a complete fog and could begin to process the fact that my babies were actually here.

If you read all that, you're crazy and probably need to go to bed.

Little Boy J.

October. 28, 2014

We had been waiting for this day for months, and somehow we knew we'd be getting a call today. We just knew it would work out like that...because life can get pretty crazy at times, and that seems to be the norm around here.

So around 8:30 on this beautiful Tuesday morning, I heard my phone start to ring and immediately realized it was our case worker calling. (We have a special tone set for her calls). Before answering my phone, I woke Russ up.

"Babe?"

"hhuuhh??..."

"Russell...Roxie is calling..."

"WHAT??"

"We knew it would happen like this..we knew it! Hello?"

Roxie continued to tell us that our home study was being worked on to change our license from adoption to foster care. We had decided that we were going to change our license at the beginning of the year and she was calling to tell us that, 

"BUT" she said "I have a call for a little boy."

She proceeded to tell us what she knew about J. and I knew it was him. Russell was still half awake, although startled, so I asked her if I could have some time to relay the info to Russ and I'd text her back. We texted her within 5 minutes:

"Russ says 'well, that sounds pretty awesome' 

We'd love to get more info"

-----

I remember sitting on the couch reading over the additional information, knowing and just thinking to myself...no way...we found him...

As soon as Russell walked through the door, I told him all about J. and he shook his head slightly and said something along the lines of 

"holy crap, this is totally him"

-----

The meeting was all set to take place at 9:00 Wednesday morning, so I emailed our case worker around 8 saying "fingers crossed for today!"

at 9:00 she emailed back

"actually,  meeting is rescheduled for tomorrow"

...

"ok, well, fingers crossed for tomorrow then" 

Really? This could be listed as a form of torture. But, part of us also knew that it'd be pushed back to be on Thursday...because, like I said...sometimes life gets crazy and that really, really seems to be the norm around here.

We went to Target and Russell picked out a little shirt for J. 

-----

So Thursday morning rolls around and we have no idea when the meeting for today is supposed to be. We cautiously hope its in the morning, but aren't expecting anything. The day before, we had learned that there were at least 4 families involved in the selection process...which is a ton. Part of us felt like we should feel nervous, but through this whole process, we just knew. 

Roxie called a little after 10:00. I stared at my phone for a second, took a deep breath and answered:

"Hello?"

"Good news!"

"Oh my goodness, I'm so glad you led with that! I don't want to say we knew, but we knew!"

She told us that there was another family in the running who actually knew some of J's relations that he was still close to and she thought we were out for sure. But she really brought it home and the fact that we volunteer with kids at the crisis center along with our blip as 'safety monitors', swayed J's case worker in our favor.

-----

Monday night we left 40 minutes early to get to the meeting and arrived 10 minutes late. I've never felt so anxious in traffic in my entire life.

We finally get to the meeting and, luckily, J's caseworker started with pictures.

I always get teary eyed when I think about big moments in my life. When Russell and I were preparing to get married, when meeting new nieces and nephews, seeing a picture of my 3 1/2 year old son for the first time...

But it never goes like that. I go into this surreal, try to listen, floaty mode. Where I just say, "ok" to all the things I thought I would cry and give emphatic yes!-es and of course!s.

At the close of the meeting we set a time for this friday (11/14/14) to meet J. Russell and I walked out to the parking lot where he kept hugging me and saying 

"I'm so excited!"

-----

I can't believe we're meeting our son on Friday. We aren't sure if he'll have been told that he is being adopted or if we'll just be introduced as foster mom's friends...who will just keep showing up...

We bought a kite, just in case there is a breeze.

Growing a foot or two...

I've been experiencing an interesting phenomenon... 

Through the years of infertility, the gory treatments and the crazy hormonal swings, I had no problem opening up to people (fellow infertility sufferers, friends, curious bystanders, etc) about our journey with infertility.

Until...

A few months ago we decided to start looking at adoption. For some reason I was anxious to talk to anyone about it. There were a small number of people I had questions for and told, but for some reason adoption hasn't been something I have felt confident in confiding we are looking into.

Maybe it is all the uncertainty that comes with it...the lack of any sort of timeline guarantee.

Maybe its just being tired having so many people involved in my little family becoming a bigger family. (Who aren't already friends and family, ya follow?)

Or maybe it is all the negative rhetoric floating around between birth moms and adoptive moms...can't we all just be moms? 

I was so worried that people would judge me. I've had some (hopefully) unintentionally harsh experiences working in nursery where moms would 'joke' about me not pretending their kid was mine, after they found out I was struggling with infertility. What? Yea....I hope this was just poor comedic prowess on their part, but it hurt my feelings and it scared me. On discussion boards there were inevitable comments from birth mothers calling adoptive mothers 'baby snatchers' and making remarks about adoptive mothers pressuring birth mothers into giving up their babies. 

I'm sure there are truths and exaggerations to both sides of the story, but the idea of another woman thinking of me as someone who took her child and was now 'pretending' to be that child's mother weighed on my heart. (It's about time I stop being so caught up in what other people think of me, right? ugh, right.)

With all that flapping in the wind, I have reached my point of excitement and being truly able to invest my hopes in the adoption process as a way to add to our family.

So, I guess all that is left to do is wish us luck.

and patience...

cause we're going to need it.

But really guys...

really truly...

WE'RE SO EXCITED!

queue the never ending paperwork!

Growing and Growing

So, I'm back after last weeks kinda gloomy post! 

Russ and I have been presented, at this point in our lives, a huge gathering of doors to be opened.

Every.single.one of these doors holds absolutely amazing opportunities to potentially grow our family, secure better financial stability, help us grow closer together and help us grow as individuals.

Here's the catch, time frames are a little skewed. So, we can choose 3 of the 5 options if ordered one way and 2 of the 5 if ordered another and 4 of the five if ordered even another way! We can't choose all options and we can't exactly choose which order they come in...so there is still that crazy level of unpredictability that I'm trying to see around and not get grumpy haha. 

But! One of these options is for me to fully embrace that for here on out, as my career, I want to design and sew. (eventually for myself, but not RIGHT NOW). So in pulling up my big girl panties enough to commit to something, I'm bringing home this little gem:

Say whhaaatt??? Yes ma'am that is an industrial zigzag machine. IN.DUST.RI.AL. 

I'm going to lose a finger, I just know it. 

But after much deliberation and hemming and hawing (..that could almost be a seamstress pun) I've decided to stop being such a coward and do it. 

So, say hello to this gorgeous little blue number and watch as we start making the most of our talents!

Arizona: land of the sun(set)

It has been an adventure being new to an area.

We've already met some amazing people and have seen some amazing beauty.

I just started working for a local ballroom costume shop, and couldn't be more thrilled with who I am working with and what we are making! Russell is loving his job as well, it is tiring and he works long hours but he comes home genuinely excited that he has helped people. 

My little stock broker :).

We've been doing a lot of talking and a lot of research and are anxiously approaching some big life changes here in the next couple of months. We're just so happy to have each other and the love that we share.

I never get over how exciting it is to be Russell's wife. I just look at that man in awe and can hardly believe he was once the 17 year old boy I fell in love with. He's so steady and honest. The best. Man, with that consistency I'm certain I could do anything...go and be 'new' anywhere with him and it would be the greatest adventure of my life.

Bikram Yoga: Or the most I've EVER sweated in my life.

Thankfully, my instructor was gracious enough to cover a little bit more. 

I mean, at least they were shorts.

Yikes.

For my birthday my Mama Lady got me a month of unlimited Yoga. Bikram Yoga.

I've been practicing Yoga on and off for the last 5 years but I had never tried 'hot yoga' so I was excited for this opportunity.

As soon as I walked in the studio my first thought was...it freaking stinks in here, why did they use carpet instead of an easier to disinfect surface. OH MY GOODNESS ITS SO HOT! 

Namaste, right?

So I squelched my panic and rolled out my mat in the beginners section, like instructed, and laid down regretting coming into the studio 10 minutes early and just hung out in savasana. Just trying to convince myself I wanted to be there.

Now, I'd subject that Bikram yoga is a lot more like Pilates than the 'yoga' I was used to. The instructor claps his hands, doesn't necessarily do the poses so much as just instructs them and over all I would say (ugh, without trying to sound to ohm about it all) less of a spiritual/meditative environment.

The poses weren't necessarily difficult if you factored out how stinking slippery-sweaty EVERYTHING is. I was actually amazed how much I sweated during the class. About ten minutes in and my legs were mimicking weeping rock. By the end of class it literally felt as if I had just gotten out of the shower. A salty, yucky hour and a half long shower.

I made sure to hydrate well the day before and the hours leading up to my session. I ate a good breakfast that morning and I banana about an hour before I went in at 2:30 but still, towards the middle (I hope it was the middle, an hour and a half turns out to be a REALLY long time) of the practice my vision started to get a little dark around the edges. I didn't feel dizzy, which I would expect with starting to black out, but I decided to hang out in child's pose for a bit. After watching a couple other people take breaks, I noticed that no one was going into child's pose to rest but just sitting down with their legs out or laying on their backs, so I just followed suit with that.

45 minutes in, I was sure the class was almost over. Nope. So I'm hanging out back there sipping water and trying not to look like a totally goof when the instructor decides to say "Hey! It's Cambra's birthday today! Let's all sing to her while in triangle pose"

I shook my head and mouthed 'please, no' and 'that's ok' but whatever, I guess.

So 20 something sweaty, tired bodies sang happy birthday to me and I don't know if I could feel any more ridiculous.

Anyway, my goal for the class was to ... get through the class and I accomplished just that. Afterwards I felt really great and I slept like a rock last night. I feel a little bit like someone injected my body with lead, but I'm not really sore. I'm supposed to go back for my second class within 24 hours...so I'll have to do that after my acupuncture appointment today.

Yea, acupuncture, who the heck am I?

I'll let you know how that goes.

27 Goals for the 27th Year of Life

Birthday outfit and puppy bites. sweet.

Welp, I'm officially over the fence-sittin age of 25 and have been plunked firmly in my 'late twenties'. ew.

In celebration of my 26th birthday, and...eagearness(?) to fully claim this 27th year of life:

27 Goals for my 27th Year of Life:

1. Have a baby (ugh, seriously though)

2. Go to the Ocean

3. Get my sewing space organized and functional

4. Make my bed every day (about time, yea?)

5. Regain my flexibility to do a full forward fold.

6. Regain flexibility to extend into a solid 'bird of paradise'

7. Quit carbonation (again) (RIP Slurpies)

8. Complete a multi-pitch climb without crying

9. Be able to complete 10 respectable push-ups in a row 

(I did my first legit push-up in my entire life this year, haha, yikes)

10. Listen to/read 3 talks from LDS.org every week

11. Attend the temple once a month

12. Keep my heart and mind open for more opportunities to serve

13.  Start/Finish my teaching certificate

14. Make something for my home

15. Sew Russell an awesome button up shirt 

(must be awesome to qualify)

16. Watch the sunrise with Russ

17. Throw a New Years Eve party

18. Prepare my first Thanksgiving dinner by myself

19. Have a real Christmas tree! 

(This is our year, I can feel it!)

20. Finish writing that darn book I've been running away from

21. Teach Echo a new trick

22. Sign up for and run a 5k

23. FINALLY acquire my dream white bedding

24. Try a food I've never tried before

25. Go on a boat

26. Leave the country 

(I'll come back, I promise)

AND

27. Complete foster care training to see if it is a right fit for us.

Fertility Friday: Second Chances

After experiencing the harshness and hot flashes that is Western medicine's approach to fertility treatments, the last couple weeks I have been looking into more natural approaches. 

Am I shunning another round...or seven... of clomid or femara? 

No.

Am I anti IUI or IVF?

No.

What I am, at this point in time, is looking to give my body a second chance. 

I'm giving my body back the full confidence that it can do this. I can do hard things. My body can also accomplish hard things. 

I've always been the type of person to 'get over' a cold on my own, or tough out a headache, etc.. I never wanted to have to take ibuprofen, or any other medicine for that matter, if my body could work through it by itself. When I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism, it took me several solid months to come to terms with the fact that I had to take a pill, every.single.day for the rest of my life to help my body just function how it was supposed to, not to even mention get pregnant.

I know that taking a tiny pill isn't a hard act, and that others have it so much harder than I do. It was just the idea that I wasn't able to do it on my own. My body couldn't even do what it was supposed to be doing. Maybe its a commentary on my confidence, but it was really difficult for me to get used to needing daily medical intervention. (Even though it was small intervention).

After the thyroid medication came more pills, clomid, femara, metformin, others I don't even remember the name of. And the more pills that came the more I accepted that my body was broken, that I couldn't heal or be capable of getting pregnant or carrying that pregnancy on my own. I felt entirely invaded at first. Not wanting all the pins and needles and questions about my body, intimate life, eating habits, exercise habits to be laid out for a stranger to examine and pass judgement on. 

I finally let go of the idea of getting pregnant as an intimate experience shared only by my husband and me. I came to terms with third and fourth parties playing a role in this part of my life that was never supposed to be theirs. 

But with that, I let go of the fact that it was mine.

 I was always conscious of eating healthy, being active and in general taking care of myself, but I approached my fertility with a blind hope that someday, somewhere, some doctor would give me the right pill, perform the right surgery, chance into the right timing and we would finally have our baby.

I had completely given up on thinking my body could do this, and I put blind hope into finding the thing that could. 

Maybe it is something that comes with age, or experience, but I've come to find out that doctors aren't always right. Am I a doctor? Do I have their training? No, and that isn't what I am trying to say. With the understanding that doctors aren't always right, or always 100% right, I have come to terms with giving my body a second chance.

I don't want another pill or injection to make this happen one time (Don't get me wrong, I'll take it if that's what I need). I want to heal my body and give it the attention, exercise, detoxification, sleep, timing, whatever, it needs to be able to do this. Or at least assist in this. 

So, I'm giving my body a second chance. I'm seeing a naturopathic doctor and next week I'm beginning acupuncture treatments. 

I want to say I'm keeping my fingers crossed, but I don't want to just hope with crossed fingers anymore. I'm done being infertile, entirely over it. 

Its time to fight back.

I'll follow you into the muck...of Middle Echo

Don't even try and tell me you wouldn't follow that hunk of hubs into a mucky canyon. Farmers tan and all.

The hike up took us a little longer than we had anticipated, but we kind of mosied so it was our own fault, really. As soon as we entered the middle section of Echo canyon, we suited up and waded through the first pool. Russ was several yards ahead of me, when he stopped dead in his tracks and whispered for me to keep walking, but to be quiet. 

Knowing that a mountain lion was spotted at the base of Spry canyon (ok, so what if that was on the other side of the park) I thought "oh frick, I'm going to be mauled to death".

Instead,  pleasantly enough, we saw this guy:

After silently gawking at our little buddy for several minutes, we proceeded to a long corridor full of dried mud, pine needles and bark. I blazed ahead, only to be stopped by Russ grabbing my arm. 

"I think there's water under there"

...

Me: 'no way, its just from the last flash flood, its all dry"

Russ then proceeds to stomp on the nearest patch of muck and we see the whole corridor rise and fall a'la tremors. Fantastic, I think to myself.

"How deep is it?"

We found a large stick to fish around for the bottom with, but never found it. 

Double fantastic.

With the canyon walls being about 4 1/2 feet apart at this point we were able to stem a bit in attempt to avoid the nastiness. 

I, of course, fall and begin the most epic muck battle of my life trying to tread water while simultaneously clearing a solid foot of debris out of my way to swim through. Russell stood, successfully stemming, above me as I frantically doggy paddled my way through the muck and the mire, while he laughed his head off.

After stripping down in a clear pool to get the large bits of barks out of my wetsuit and swimsuit, we continued on our merry way. The longest rap was only 30 feet so we didn't have to fight a long rope through the canyon, which was awesome because almost every rap required us to be swimming while detaching.

It was an awesome day and a great experience to get my trust back in Russell's ability as a canyoneer since his recent near death encounter with the flash flood of the year in Pine creek.

I guess I can write that epic all out next time...

Catching up

I have all these things that I intend(ed) to write down on the blog but we've been settling in, napping together during lunch breaks, canyoneering, sewing and visiting Costco.

But, I'll fill you in on all that in some catch up posts to come.

26 goals...

26 goals for the 26th year of my life:

So, every year I set a list of goals I would like to accomplish. A goal for every year of my life, and one for the year I'm working on.

Here goes:

1. Grow our family. Yea, I said that out loud. 

(Please note: this is still a goal, and not an actuality yet!)

2. Graduate from college...finally.

3. Train Hueco through the first levels of puppy school.

4. Learn how to reupholster.

5. Go sledding.

6. Take family pictures.

7. Have a fully decorated home.

8. Find a job pertaining to what I went to school for.

9. Sell 10 things I make (whoa! Dream big!)

10. Perform something on stage.

11. Buy a camera.

12. Climb a 5.10 without hanging.

13. Do a solid yoga headstand. 

14. Run a 5k and get a shirt!

15. Make home made yogurt

16. Eat less processed food, more home cookin!

17. Not eat at a fast food joint more than 10 times

(embarrassing that that has to be a goal for me!)

18. have 100% visiting teaching!

19. Make a piece of art for my home.

20. Take Russell on a super epic date.

21. Eat at the Space Needle.

22. Swim in the ocean.

23. Sleep under the stars.

24. Week long backpacking trip.

25. Call my brothers and sisters more.

and!

26. Study the Book of Mormon cover to cover.

---

Its going to be a great year!!

A successful Saturday

Today, I found a yoga studio! I'm ecstatic and anxious to start practicing again... 

Russ and I took a quick jaunt over to Minnihaha to climb.

Then we picnicked in the park and set up our slack line.

As we were goofing around, we noticed that behind a large tree a ways off, four little kids were tentatively inching their way closer towards us. 

We threw them a wave and before we knew it we were slack lining with a motley little crew of 4-8 year olds.

A good Saturday indeed. 

With Our Passions Combined!

We made our own rope tarp! 

Russ is an avid climber, and I love to sew.

So!

We took Russ' leaving his rope tarp in another state as an opportunity to make a brand new, light weight one.

Hello 3 oz(ish) Rope tarp.

And Russell did all the sewing, I'm so proud!

Road Trip Day 6 and 7: Yosemite

After going to the beach, we drove down through the Redwoods.

Literally, through the Redwoods.

And ended up in Russell's Disneyland otherwise known as the Yosemite Valley

We spent the afternoon hiking around and oogling the granite giants.

We then went for a swim. Since we had been road tripping, our car was a bit of a mess and we had a ton of food in there. I was worried about the bears until I saw how many people were around and figured there was no way a bear would come by all of the people. 

As we paddled around the river with about 150 others, a bear ambled its way right on past a group of Asian tourists (who later scampered through the woods in their bikinis, chasing the animal down trying to get a picture with it...seriously...its a bear, run! and not towards it!).

After that I was pretty paranoid about coming back to broken windows, so we headed back to our car and started trying to find a place to camp.

We scoped out camp 4, but it was full of families with hardly a climber in site (which really is the only romance of the pit hole known as camp 4), so we headed up the valley to a campground Russ and his buddy Dallas camped at when they were there. 

We lost the sun as we ascended out of the valley and arrived at the campground in pitch darkness. Finding flocks of children darting across the roadway in the darkness, led us to parking our car and meandering through the campground trying to find a spot to sleep. We found one open site and figured it was because a large Mexican family (30+ people) had gathered their cars nearby and were blaring Mariachi music to the stars and their local sleeping campers.

I hopped onto the table to wait for Russ to pull the car around when one of the Mother's from the large group walked up to me with a swarm of little kids running around her and informed me they were renting the space for the use of the bear box, she then opened it to show that it was packed to the brim with alcohol "food".

So, we headed out.

We ran into another family who was in our same predicament and they informed us they had just pulled their cars into the trees and were setting up their tents there in a non-site.

Looking at their chocolate smeared children holding giant marshmallows in each hand, I asked the dad (who was holding and eating a whole wheel of cheese, awesome) if there was a random bear box there. He said no, but it was OK they just put all of their food in their car. He then told us we could set up camp next to them. Looking again at his group of little bear snacks kids, we politely declined, drove away. Pulled over to the side of a road and slept in our car hoping the bears wouldn't break in and get our crackers...or rip through the chocolate covered children's tents.

---

We successfully made it through the night and climbed at Swan Slab (after meandering around trying to find a short cut to the Grack for a good hour), I got attacked by a giant bug; from which a kind old gentlemen saved me life by swatting it off my rope and stomping it into the ground. Russ got a little souvenir caribiner and promises to come back in peak climbing season when there were actually climbers in camp four. 

We then made our way out to stay with some family friends for the night and hit up SIX FLAGS the next day.

Road Trip Day 5: our fiasco in the woods

Instead of spending the night at Smith Rock after a long day of climbing, we decided to pop on over to the Oregon coast, since Russ had never been there.

We found a free campground in Coos Bay on our GPS and decided to make the four hour drive and set up camp around 11 or 12 that night.

---

I'm a little infamous for falling asleep on road trips when I'm supposed to be navigating (just ask Russ about our first trip to Leavenworth when we were 17...he'll gladly tell ya all about it) so, to prevent myself from falling asleep, I bought a Dr. Pepper.

This just happened to be the night that I found out that after I drink caffeine to keep myself awake, and after it fails and sleep starts to win the battle...I start getting really, really paranoid. 

Good thing I never did drugs. I'd be carazay. 

Anywho...

We find the dirt road turn off for the campground around 11:30 and head on into the woods. The road is extremely narrow, the sky has clouded over with fog from the bay nearby and the moss covered trees are starting to make me feel more than a tad claustrophobic, when the thought hits me.

...

What if big foot, friggin BIG.FOOT. comes and gets us?

I'm freakin out kids.

Full on, approaching panic attack, freaking out.

---

We'd been driving down the dirt road further and further into these spooky woods when we realize, we've already driven 40 miles, we have to turn around or the campground has to show up soon. We come to a fork in the road with one fork blocked off by a fence, so we take the road to the left only to find the road to have been plowed into a big open space with all the shoveled around dirt piled in front of the continuing road.

At this point, we admit defeat and begin backtracking to a spot where our GPS would work again. Russell keeps insisting that I can fall asleep,that he is fine, but I insist on staying awake blabbering like a skitzo fool.

When, all of a sudden, I feel something huge crawling up my leg.

"Okay" I tell myself. "You've been being paranoid, it's probably just a string or something".

So, I bravely and calmly move my hand towards the thing crawling on me, pretty convinced at this point that there is just some inanimate object on my leg.

Nope.

"Russell..."

"yea?"

"There's a bug"

"Did you get it?"

"No, Russell...there's a bug"

"...ok?"

Fully registering that there is a half-dollar sized creature scurrying its way up my flesh, I scream

"NO! RUSSELL, ITS A BUG! A STOP THE CAR BUG!"

and I smacked that bug right off of my leg. Russ slams on the breaks, turns on the cab light and hops out of the car while I scamper into the driver's seat just as the gargantuan beast attempts to crawl up and under the glove box compartment. 

Luckily for me, and unluckily for the giant stink-bug-beetle-satan-spawn, Russ is quick and pulled out his pocket knife, flipped out the pliers, grabbed its leg and flung it off into the woods to be eaten by Sasquatch.

When we finally got out of the woods and back onto a paved road, we headed straight to our newly-favorited-trusty camping spot...another Wal-Mart parking lot.

Luckily, the beach was gorgeous the next day and there were no more bugs in the car:

On to the Redwoods and the most Redneck experience of our trip...