Easter Sunday

This Easter was two special occasions. It was General Conference weekend and Easter. For Mormons, this is like, the ULTIMATE April weekend.  Basically it is Church all weekend with Easter festivities in the middle.  I love when the two events run into each other like this.

So Saturday morning we woke up with our kids and had a yummy breakfast and got cozy in our bedroom and set the laptop on the dresser.  We aren't that worried about Zach "paying attention" because...come on...he wasn't even two yet.  He is happy hanging out with us and that comfort that family provides is all that matters right now.

Zach lining up his cars for Boyd K. Packer

Aaron and Zach wrestling while Sister Linda K. Burton talks about the importance of men in the lives of their children (also note all the wound care supplies to the left of the computer).

Sydney sleeping through everything.

It was a fun day spent pretty much entirely in pj's.  All day snuggling and family time except when mom did some last minute shopping at night.  But before that, we opened up Easter presents from Nana and Papa.

Zach immediately put it over his body and it pretty much stayed there the rest of the night.

Sydney admiring her new blanket.

Once Zach went to sleep, I started getting his basket ready.  Markers, water balls, a little net, a book about Easter, a teddy bear, and some dress-up brown bunny ears made by me.

Sydney only received a pink bunny rabbit because...I mean...she's not even 4 months old.

When Zach woke up in the morning, we went and ate French toast as a family.  We listened to music and the spoken word, which plays before the Sunday session of General Conference starts.

Then took Zach into our room to find his Easter basket.  He was the most interested in the markers and pretty much didn't want to deal with anything besides the markers.

But I wrestled the ears onto him for some pictures.

Then we pulled out the markers to let him enjoy them.

Very important to read the box first.

He was such a big boy, taking notes on conference with his mommy.

Then we got down to watching conference at 9am.  The first speaker was President Thomas S. Monson and he gave a very special talk...one that I probably won't forget for a very very long time.  It was on temples.  Oh, and he announced THE BANGKOK THAILAND TEMPLE!!!

Immediately I started to scream and I woke up Sydney and she started crying and Zach started crying because I was screaming....and then I got a message from Clarise in South Carolina and she was like, "Please stop screaming, you are scaring your children."  And it was literally...not a joke.  It was exactly what was happening.

But I couldn't help it!!  It was so exciting!!  The Thai people have been waiting for a temple in their country for 15 years because that was when Gordon B. Hinckley promised them that they would receive a temple someday.  More than a few years ago, he even arranged for the purchase of the land that the temple will eventually sit on.  I remember when my dad came home and told us that he was pretty sure that the Church had purchased the land that the temple would eventually sit on.  He said,"That land is way more than they need for it currently.  I think that they have some big future plans for all of that space."  I missed the next couple talks because I was getting messages from family and friends from all over who shared my excitement and wanted to talk about how great this all was.  It was amazing.  My Facebook blew up.  My phone blew up.  Absolute best thing we could have received for Easter.

After conference, I knew that I had to get some pictures of Sydney in her Easter dress.  She was adorable.  At first, she wasn't interested in smiling.  She wanted to know why I was ruining her life by putting her in a dress.

Then she started to warm up a little bit.

Next I wanted to get her in a picture with my first Easter bunny.  We call her our "little bunny" and so I thought it would be perfect to get her with my first bunny.

I love her eyes in this picture.  Staring down the camera with a little smirk.

Then I wanted to take her picture with her own Easter bunny.  It turns out that I bought her an Easter bunny that was her own size.  To be honest, it was hard not to...she's....tiny.

After my mini photo shoot with all the bunnies, it was time for Zach to have an Easter egg hunt.  I went outside to hide the eggs and Zach died inside.  He thought that I was leaving and I was going outside without him and he started crying at the door.  Aaron tried to comfort him and I didn't know and a guy from the neighborhood started talking to me about Easter egg hunts and I felt so bad that Zach was in the apartment crying while I chatted with this guy.

But Zach's agony was quickly turned to delight (as it so often is with small children) when he went outside and we explained what was happening.  He didn't quite understand the purpose of the basket at first.

He got the hang of it.  And he was delighted.

Some eggs proved easier to find then others.  But I tried not to be too tricky with my hiding places.

I also tried to get some cute photos of him.  He looked so adorable in his Easter clothes.  Most of his faces turned out a little grumpy looking.  He was deep in thought searching for eggs.

When he had found all of the eggs, Aaron showed him how to open the eggs and get the treats.  I'm not big into candy and sweets so his egg had some cheddar cheese bunnies (thanks Ashley and Ray!  They were in the care package you sent Aaron and I didn't want to eat them since they were for Aaron but Aaron wasn't on food at the hospital so he shared with Zach for Easter...since they were on theme!).

We tried to get good family pictures but it was a little sunny and we were right by the parking lot.  BUT the kids are adorable so I can deal with it.

I'm an excellent empathetic parent.

Enjoy Aaron's bearded glory.  That's beard's days are numbered.

After this we had lunch, then nap time, then MORE conference.  The last session was at 1pm which was during nap time so most of the house looked like this:

Which is perfect.

After nap time, we went on our tradition family Easter hike.  I'll save that for another post.  I don't want to bog down people's computers with all these pictures.

The Priceless Gift of Happy

Jimmy Fallon ended up in the hospital recently and had to spend 10 days in the ICU hoping his finger made a full recovery.

That's not what this blog post is about...well kind of.

When he came back on air this week he was talking about reading Man's Search for Meaning by Viktor E. Frankl while in the hospital and Jimmy decided that being on air and making people laugh, who are in the ICU or at home, was his life's meaning.

Which REALLY hit home for me. You see, when Aaron was in the hospital for weeks and weeks, I really needed a laugh. Aaron and I would watch Family Feud all the time and try and play along and I'm a huge Jimmy Fallon fan so that's how I would try and wind down my nights. I remember thinking how weird it was that this random guy I didn't know was making my life brighter and he didn't even know. He didn't know who I was and I was thousands of miles away.

But I also had people close to me (most, not geographically) who made me laugh.

I had Bob Pettit who when I asked for prayers to God or whoever you believed in told me his was going to make a blood sacrifice or something totally inappropriate like that. It made me smile. That was a scary couple of days but I remember that because it made me laugh.

I had Meg Straw who attacked my Facebook wall with silly nonsense when I asked for people to be positive for me. Seriously, her stuff was thw very definition of random and the best. She normally makes me smile but I appreciate so much that she went out of her way to be goofy for me.

I had Clarise, Geoff, and Andy messaging me being totally silly and serious whenever I needed them. Making everything seem funny instead of grim when I needed to keep moving forward.

Brie Manoel all the way in Australia sent me my very own copy of Anne of Green Gables. One of my all time favorites and hilarious too. That book even came with me when i was hospitalized. 

My brothers when they were in town. They might have been TOO silly. We nearly busted Aaron open after his second surgery because we were being ridiculous and Aaron was getting a painful case of the giggles. My blood pressure would spike up when my brothers were around because even while sitting, I was laughing so much it counted as a workout. So maybe they should have toned it down a little.

And there were more people. I mean, Michelle Harnish was try desperately to help. Donating blood!! Sending a care package and giving me sympathy while keeping things light.

None of these people felt like they did anything for me. They would all say,"I wish there was something that I could do to help but I don't know what I can do."

But they WERE doing it. They were lifting my spirits and really, if I had to keep moving forward, that lift was vital.

 I humbly thank everyone who put a smile on my face or a giggle in my heart. I'm so grateful that in some of our families darkest days we had friends who could share their light sith us. It's easy to be positive when I positively have the best friends surrounding me.

Pizza Party

I'm super excited that we finally broke our record of staying out of the hospital.

Keeping a counter going honestly started out as a total joke.  Like, "Haha! We've been out of a hospital for 3 days.  We're so cool."  Especially since we had a family member in the hospital for two and a half months straight.

Then with all the actual back and forth to the hospital, it became a means of morale boosting.  It gave us a goal to aim for.

So when Aaron got out of the hospital this last time, I jokingly told him he could have a pizza party if we beat our record.

we had a couple close calls.  He was throwing up one day and I knew I was suppose to take him to the ER because it could have been his intestines shutting down but we had had the flu in the house so we waited it out.

The doctor wasn't super pleased with me and my choice but it did end up being the flu.  The doctor made me promise if Aaron showed any symptoms of anything again that I would drive him into the ER.  IMMEDIATELY.  Riiiiiiiiiiiight....sure thing.

A couple weeks later one of Aaron's incisions started looking nasty under the steri strips.  I told him it was probably bursting open (which was something the doctor warned us could happen).  Aaron called into the clinic and they told us we should think about going to the ER to look at it.  But we decided to wait and get an appointment the next day.

Aaron's doctor was a little worried when he saw who his next appointment was with and that it was a possible infected and burst open incision because it could either be the big one or the little one.  If it was the big incision, that's....ummmmmmm....a really huge problem.

So when he came in and found out it was only the little side incision he was relieved for Aaron.  It ended up being more work for me to clean it out and pack it during wound change but at least it didn't mean a hospital visit.  You know...for the sake of the counter (but mostly my sanity).

We really had to work for this brand new record.  And by "work for it" I mean, kind of gamble with Aaron's health...but only a little.

On day 63 when we broke the record, we headed over to CiCi's Pizza to gorge ourselves at the pizza buffet (Aaron and I each had a big plate of salad with our pizza...trying to take care of our health...for reasons that should be obvious).

Zach was surprisingly uninterested in everything there and insisted on "blue" when he got home.  That's his word for blueberries.

By today, the new record is 69 days...we are going to try not to get to cocky though.

I'm glad we've been able to keep things fun for each other so that we didn't get discouraged.

If you ever have to go through some tough life crap, I hope that you can do it with an awesome partner.

Better, Not Bitter

"Better, Not Bitter" was a phrase that I learned in seminary from a wonderful teacher named Mary Phelps.  She would tell us about inspirational things that she would discover in books or online or where ever she found them.  One of these stories included a person who had gone through some really rough times (I think becoming paralyzed but I'm not sure) and he decided that he wanted to become a better person through his trials instead of a bitter person.

This became my mantra while I was struggling through my infertility.  I say "struggling through" because it was very hard and, at times, heart breaking for me.

I started an infertility blog called "Better, Not Bitter" so that I could get out all my feelings about going through infertility while also recording moments of growth and gratitude.

I was reading many other blogs written by other women with infertility and it was helping me to feel less alone but I noticed something about all of these ladies.  

They were extremely bitter.  They wanted to write about all the insensitive things people accidentally said.  They wanted to write about all the baby showers that they were invited too and how people should know not to invite them because they are barren.  Every disappointment, whether a negative pregnancy test, failed round of IVF or miscarriage, was an Eeyore response of "I KNEW it was going to be bad news.  I KNEW it was going to be terrible."  I decided that I didn't want to become like these women.

I wanted to become a better person, not a bitter person.  So I tried to focus on the positives. All of the time Aaron and I could go on vacations or focus on our relationship.  Lots of time to focus on my hobbies.  Extra time spent focusing on my callings at church.  I got to go and work on a movie one summer, completely spur of the moment.  I got to go to Mexico and a bunch of weddings of my friends all over the US.  I tried to focus on becoming a better person.  Reading my scriptures and praying.  Helping friends and other service.  My infertility became a blessing in my eyes.  A refining fire that Heavenly Father had made just for me.

I'm not going to lie.  I still cried when I took a pregnancy test.  Miscarriages hurt me terribly.  My heart ached for babies that I couldn't have.  But I kept going.  I would pick myself up from the bathroom floor (a place of frequent tears) and try to become better.

Well, lately I have been wondering about all of these women who I used to follow  online.  I had the blog list still up and so I went to take a look.

EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM HAS A BABY!  They all have gotten their miracle baby!! Whether through adoption, IVF, or the stars aligning.

But do you know what their blogs are filled up with?  Complaining. 

Being a mom is hard...I know.   My children cry all hours of the night and poop and make giant sticky messes like everybody else's children do. Some days are hard and some days are wonderful and filled with bliss. But every single one of these ladies only wrote about how terrible it is to be a mom.  Their children seem to be exceptionally trying.

My heart breaks for them.  They got the baby that they always wanted...and they are miserable.

I'm sure that deep down, they love their babies.  I'M SURE THEY DO.  But it seems like all they've learned to do to get through hard things, is to complain. To say why me and then get online to share the worst of themselves.

I know this sounds extra prideful and super judge-y. I don't know these women personally (although some that I do know also fit this description) and so I can't judge their hearts.

I'm so blessed that I was able to grow during my infertility experience.  Reading back through my blog posts, I saw how strong I was and also how hurt I was. I wrote about miscarriages and positive interactions with beautiful children. I wrote about scriptures that strengthened me and beautiful insights I had about life. Heavenly Father gave me so much during my trials. Love and strength and knowledge.

I printed the blog out into a book. I want my children to be able to read it and see how much I've always loved them and how deeply I wanted them in my life. I also hope someday when their lives our hard, they can remember.

I've deleted that blog. It served it's purpose. I'm moving on now to new adventures and growth.

Life has continued to be life.  That means ups and down, really fun times and some truly awful times, but now I know that the best way to move forward through all of it, is with a positive attitude. 

The best gift to give yourself through hard times is to become better.

Sydney Elizabeth

Sydney's baby blessing day is coming up on August 2nd.  For those of you who don't know, a baby blessing in the LDS faith is an ordinance performed when a new baby is born.  It isn't something required.  It is more of a gesture of bringing your child before the Lord and asking for blessings for them in their life.

Before that happened, a friend (thanks Natalya!!) reminded me that I was going to write about why we picked the name for our daughter that we did.  So for your reading pleasure....

The story of how we picked the name Sydney really isn't that interesting. I like the reason we picked Elizabeth much better.

When I first met my daughter, she was feisty. That's what they hope for in premies...especially undersized premies.

The NICU nurses brought her around to me after they checked her out. She was breathing on her own...she had been screaming on her own but had calmed down. They warned me how small she was and then showed her to me. She was all bundled up with a hat on and her little face was grumpy. Like,"Hey lady, not cool. Not. Cool."

I immediately knew she would need a spunky name. Something feisty.

Aaron and I tossed around a couple names. Pipper. Skye. We even called her Harper for a few days. The name Harper reminds me of To Kill A Mockingbird. One of my favorite books (written by Harper Lee). But it didn't quite fit.

The other name that had been tied with Harper was Sydney. It was the one Aaron preferred. Every Sydney we had know was a spunky active girl. So I let Aaron have his pick. After all, I'd gotten the middle name I wanted.

Zach's middle name is his dad's first name. That's a family tradition on both sides. And my family would pass down mom's middle name as the eldest daughter's middle name. But I wasn't an eldest daughter and Alise didn't hold that much meaning for me (I thought about Alisabeth but I'm not Utah enough...thank goodness).

But I wanted it to be a family name. My favorite family member by far, is my Aunt Elizabeth.

Okay...she's not my "real" aunt. But she's the realest aunt I've ever had. Our family met her in Thailand. She was a nomad, like us, and she taught English at a school there and she went to church with us.

I actually don't remember when we adopted her. She seems like she was always there in my memories of Thailand. Coming to holiday dinners. Sitting with us in sacrament. Telling us her funny and amazing stories. She was at my graduation and I still treasure her gift (and the playlist on it). When I visited Thailand on my holidays from college she would take me on special trips. She was at my bridal shower and I think of her every time I cook because she got me all my pots and pans. No matter where she travels now, she's in my family.

She was so much like my mom that it felt so natural for her to be there.

In some ways she saved me from giving up on myself and the LDS church.

I received so much negative feedback from my peers at church. It seemed like they would always point out how I was failing to living up to the standards that were set. Loud and irreverent. Too flirty and worldly. Immodest and not like them at all. Not righteous.

They would make comments like,"Katrina, you only have a couple month to finish your personal progess. You probably aren't going to make it."
One time a girl pointed out that my nails, painted, red and black, "even looked like I worshipped the devil". Most comments I don't remember but I remember how I felt. I remember crying on the car ride home.

Young people (all people really) can be mean and thoughtless. They had no idea that they were slowly eroding away at my desire to come to church and my willingness to even try to live the Gospel.

Then my Aunt Elizabeth became our Sunday School teacher.

We were studying the New Testament and she made me feel like I had valid things to say. She treated me like my thoughts on the scriptures mattered.  She told us about the mission she served and encouraged us to go and teach the Gospel. I started reading the lessons the week before class so that I could participate even better. Once I even got to teach a lesson to our class.

Aunt Elizabeth helped me see that I could be a disciple of Christ no matter what anyone else thought of me.

Then she did something that changed my heart and testimony forever.

Our ward had a trip planned for the nearest temple. The Hong Kong Temple. We were all so excited to go. Temple trips were few and far between because of the distance. It was the only trip like it the 5 years I lived there my high school years. This trip was a big deal. Even for the kids who could only do baptisms.

Aunt Elizabeth asked me if I would be willing to do the baptism for her mom. I can't even express how tremendously honored I was. The experience ended up strengthened my testimony of the importance of work in the temple in ways I hadn't grasped yet in my young life.

I remember praying so much right before going to the temple that morning. Praying to be worthy. Praying to have her mother accept the work that was being done. Praying to have the Spirit with me.

It was the first time I ever felt any connection to the person I was being baptized for. I realized all of these people are someone's beloved family members who they want to give the gift of the Gospel to. Suddenly some of the weight of this important temple work became clear to me.

I remember my Aunt Elizabeth outside of the font watching the priesthood holders perform this sacred ordinance and I realized that her mother's spirit was inside the room with us also watching. I felt the Holy Spirit so strongly around us and I'll carry that sacred experience and testimony with me forever.  Having an experience like that is something that can never be taken away and I'll never let it be diminished. 

Together outside the Bountiful Temple years later after going through together

My Aunt Elizabeth changed who I was and redirected my path. She strengthened me in the Gospel and she gave me the chance to improve myself without any judgement. 

She is a strong woman. 

She's an independent woman. 

She's a funny and intelligent woman. 

She's caring and kind.  Powerful and loving.

I want all of these qualities for my daughter. So I gave her one of the most strongest names I know. 

Elizabeth.