Nine Years and a Million More

The time has flown by.

NINE years.

It feels so strange to say that. It feels like just yesterday I met this amazing man.

So, in honor of our ninth year anniversary,
I will share with you the story of how we met.

Hubbs and I met shortly after his mission for
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
He had served his mission in Anaheim, California. He was 22 years old,
I was 18.
YES 18.

I was still in high school!

I would leave school at 2:10 p.m. and basically speed (yes...SPEED) to make it the ten miles to be to my full time job at 2:30 p.m.

How many high school kids do you know that go to school all day then go straight to work and don't get home until 10 at night? Not many.

I did it. I did it for 6 months during my senior year.

It was rough.

Anyway, to make a really long story even shorter, I didn't work most Thursday nights because I had a clinical class for nursing assisting that I had to attend on Thursdays. So the first day of training for a new area of this job happened to be on a Thursday. I came into work on Friday, and during our meeting everyone was jabbering on and on and on about the trainer. How he wore a pink polo shirt, and his name was "Fabio" and how gay he must be.

Hilarious, I laughed along, thinking how funny it was, and a wee bit sad I missed out on the pink shirt because I had been gone. I knew I wouldn't have the chance to meet this Fabio because I wasn't going to be doing phone work with the rest of the group.

As I walked to the computers that day after our group meeting, one of my good friends from training convinced me in about 30 seconds that the phone work was REALLY easy and SO much better than the computers. If any of you know me, you know that in high school I was HIGH ANXIETY.

The fact that I even went to sit down and learn the phones was an amazing feat.

Anyway, I sat down and shortly after met the famed Fabio.

No pink shirt (to my dismay).
I did, however notice that he was wearing a CTR ring.



This convinced me that he probably wasn't gay,
and that perhaps there was some explanation for his pink shirt.

Over the course of the next few weeks, I noticed he would always talk to this old lady.
I thought it was super weird because he was so young and always spent his time
with this other woman.
(this woman turned out to be his MOM.)

Our seats were not assigned either so my friends and I would move around quite often. One day my friend said to me,

"Kim, don't you notice that Fabio always sits next to you?"

I hadn't really noticed up until that point, I just thought he was being nice and helpful. Tee hee. I did notice him on breaks and stuff that he would often be in close proximity to me. After that I started to notice that he took every opportunity to be by me.

A few weeks later I had some Pepperidge Farm cookies in my bag, and I asked Fabio if he wanted some...so I shared.

That began our deep conversations.

He asked me that night if I wanted to 'hang out' and go bowling with him and some of his friends.

I had to politely decline (it was a school night and my curfew was basically when I got off work).

He had no clue what a 'curfew' was.

Strike one for Fabio.



A couple days later, he asked me to 'hang out again'.

I finally got the idea that this guy had a THING FOR ME!

AHHHH. I wanted nothing to do with him. He was 22, and was only looking for a wife.

I was 18, and I had SO many plans. College, mission, backpack Europe. Etc...etc.

Marriage was THE furthest thing from my mind. My parent's marriage had ended in divorce and I was kind of anti-marriage at that point in my life.

Strike two for Fabio.



Again, he asked me out...

Strike three.

I have to tell you at this time in my life, I REALLY was busy an I had LEGITIMATE excuses to be turning this young man down.

I really didn't want to date him, he was from Brazil, and had a great accent, and he was kind of cute, but needed some serious wardrobe help...and really I didn't want to deal with it.

Strike four.

The poor guy asked me out FOUR times and I said NO each and every time.




The time came for my little group of trainees to move to another building. There was this small part of me that felt bad for this guy who had tried so hard to ask me out.

On the last night we were in the same building, I wrote my number down on a piece of paper and slid it to him.

I apologized for always being too busy to 'hang out' with him and told him to call me sometime.

I was pretty sure he wouldn't call.

I think I was hoping he wouldn't.

He called two days later.




I picked up the phone and it was Flavio!

He called wanting to know if I could go out and I said YES.

He was SO stunned that he stammered and sputtered.
(he hadn't even planned a date...so sure I was going to say no.)

He asked me to go to a birthday party of one of HIS Brazilian friends, and said:

"Do you want to meet me there?"

I said, "Well, that would be great except I have no idea who your friend is, and you are asking me out so you probably should come and pick me up."

Poor Flav.



He came and picked me up later that evening. I kept looking out the window for some atrocious beater car. When a super sporty red car pulled in front of my house and Flavio got out, I was floored.

Say what?!

Home Run.



We went out.

Here is where I would like to tell you it was the most romantic date ever.

It wasn't.

It was horrible.

We spent the evening with 30 or so Brazilians who spoke only Portuguese.

Not the best first date for someone who only knows English.

He took me home that night and I vowed not to do that again.

He called me the next week.

I decided to give him ONE more chance.



I am so glad that I did.

Our second date was the best I have ever been on.

I knew that night that this man was going to be my eternal companion.

Really. I. Did.

Strange but true.

Nine months later we were married.

I was still 18.



It was the best decision I ever made.

I love you sweet 'Fabio'.

So thankful for you.

Nine years.

3 Kids. 1 Angel.

and a hope for a million more years together.

Happy Anniversary Love.

Fighting back the tears...

...of JOY.



So, yesterday was J-Man's FIRST official SEP.

Call it what you would like:
"Student Educational Plan"
"Parent Teacher Conference"

It is what it is.

Seeing how it was J-Man's first...that automatically means, it was also MY first (as a parent).

We got to the school, sat across from his teacher, and she just goes on and on at what a great boy J is.

How sweet he is.
How kind he is.
How SMART he is.
How helpful he is.
How loving he is.
How he helps her SO much.
How she rarely gives '5''s...but how he had almost ALL 5's

I did not doubt that he would be just as good at school as he is for me.
I had to try really hard to fight back the tears of joy that I felt for my little man.

He is a rock.

Upon leaving she told Jothan:

"Come around the table and give me a hug."

Which he did. She proceeded to whisper lots of things in his ear, finishing off with what I assume was the question:

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

He promptly replied:

"A missionary."

First on his list. I don't know where he gets it.
The tears spilled over.

I love this little man.
So proud of the person he is becoming.

"Why One Should Never Blog While Under the Influence"

Proof:

Uhm, so I prolly should not be allowed to post EVER.

Especially not when having taken a mezcla of painkillers, antibiotics, and anti-depressants followed by a heaping amount of sleep deprivation.

Tee hee.

It wasn't until last night during my crazy dream frenzy (that I have nightly) that I dreamed I was at my aunts house going through the family pictures.
FAMILY PICTURES?!
What?
Oh ya, a month ago almost!
I. Took. Our. Extended. Family. Pictures.
We got dressed up for it and EVERYTHING!
You would think I would remember putting makeup and clothes on. Apparently it wasn't eventful enough.

I rushed down here to my computer, and much to my relief there was a family picture,
and it is actually fairly cute.
(Thanks Jill.)

I can die a happy woman.

If you are wondering what the H I am talking about, please read the previous drug induced post...and laugh, like I just did.

Lunatic. See?

I'm still here.

Sometimes, it seems all I can do these days, is just BE.

I just need to BE a mom.

I just need to BE still.

BE.

I have really immersed myself in my family the past few months.

MONTHS.

I can't believe I just said that.

Millz is two months old.

Officially.

Luckily (and thankfully for me) she is staying tiny.

She weighs 10 lbs.

The other kids weighed at least five pounds more at this point and were wearing bigger clothes.

The fact that she is just barely fitting into her 0-3 month clothes
makes me smile.

It feels like time is going slower.

A tender mercy.

That may seem silly, but it makes me cry just thinking about how much I am not ready for her to get any older or bigger.

She is napping right now.

She has been napping on a schedule for the past two days.
A sign that she is indeed getting older.

She has made me realize a great many things.

One of them being how much I adore being a mother.

How important it is to BE here for my kids.

How I would walk to the end of the earth and back for them.

It is an important job, one I pray that many of you get to experience, whether that be again, for the first time, or for eternity...it is worth the wait and every heartache to get to this point.

Many more posts to come, I have so many things I want to share, but the baby monitor is crying...we'll save the rest for another nap time.

Finally, a story that ends WITH a baby.

I am extremely teary right now.

This post needs to be written.
I hate that it has taken so long.
It is so sacred, and so special that it needed me to have the time to put it down.

I will preface with the fact that I have an EXTREME case of
"pregnant brain" combined with sleep deprivation.

It is my hope I can remember the minutes of this day like they happened, and recall with full heart how I felt.

The Monday prior to Millz birth, I had an appointment with my doctor where he
"stretched my cervix".

Let's just leave it at this: That it hurt like a mother. And I left with his words ringing in my mind, "60-70% of women will begin labor within 48 hours."

On the way home I texted one of my besties.
She said, "You'll prolly be in the 30% that don't start labor huh?" She knew what I was thinking.
I went home that night uncomfortable, but with no signs that I would have this baby before my doctor was scheduled to leave for his vacation on Friday.

Tears.

I wanted nothing more than to have HIM there to deliver this sweet girl. I prayed hard, I cleaned my house,
I MOWED THE LAWN.
NADA.

So, the night before Millz was born, I was out photographing a beautiful friend of mine, Crystalyn.
Yes, nine months pregnant I was still shooting, but at that point, one only hopes and prays that any sort of physical activity will activate full blown labor.

It didn't.

I went home and had a hard time falling asleep.
I felt like CRAP.

I woke up the next morning still feeling just all around yucky, but not in "labor". Sure, I had contractions...just like the weeks before, every 3-30 minutes. Crystalyn called me that morning, just to say,
"I felt like I needed to call you and see how you are doing."

Because of her sweet call, and her urging me to go to the doctor, I started to think,
"Huh, maybe I am in labor?"

She proceeded to tell me,
"You know you feel like crap because: YOU ARE GOING TO HAVE A BABY!"

I still laugh at that sentence.
Hindsight: She was right. At the moment: I was in denial.

I told her that I would indeed go into the hospital if I didn't start feeling better. The contractions kept coming and coming, but inconsistently, and I still felt like crapola.

I ran some errands with Hubbs, we got some lunch, then dropped the older kiddos off on the in-laws and we were off to the hospital, just to see what the heck was up and why I was feeling so icky.

We got to the hospital at 4:00 p.m.

It took what felt like forever to get to the L&D room for monitoring. Here, I was informed they would monitor me for an hour...see if I was progressing, if not then they would send me home.

BOO.

I was dilated to a 2+ when I came in. I could have cried (remember all the cervix stretching? A fancy term for "stripping of the membranes") Well when the nurse, Kathleen told me that I hadn't progressed since then...I CRIED. I knew the hour would be pointless...I felt dumb for even going into the hospital. I just wanted to turn around and leave. But I didn't...I stayed for the entire hour.

Kathleen came back in, checked me and I dilated 1/2 a centimeter. YES a half. They want you to dilate 1 centimeter an hour in order to keep you. Kathleen was SO sweet, and SO kind that she said,

"Well, how about if we keep you for one more hour? But if you don't dilate I will have to send you home because we are SUPER FULL."

Me: "Okay." All the time hoping and praying that SOMETHING would happen.

I took a few laps around the L&D floor. Hubbs was at a closing during this hour...so I was alone.
I had a lot of time to contemplate about this sweet baby girl. How I wanted to meet her, how I longed to have our Dr. Lloyd be there to deliver her, how I wanted Jon to be able to come and photograph her first perfect moments of life...
I prayed a lot that week...that things would line up and all would go perfectly, like I wanted it to.

After the second hour I went back to the room, and Kathleen checked me again. Dilated to a 3.5. BLAST. Only another 1/2 a centimeter? Things were happening but UBER slow. Kathleen said she was off to get some meds to send me home...assuring me I would be back within the day to have the baby.

She left the room, and there I was alone with baby in my belly, teary, praying.

I prayed and prayed and prayed.

The monitors were still on. Kathleen didn't come back.
She didn't come back for almost 45 minutes.

When she did come back in, she said,
"Well, I called the Doctor on call (not my doctor...frowny face) and he wants to keep you."

Me: "WHAT?!"

Kathleen had been monitoring me and apparently in the 45 minutes since she had gone my blood pressure had sky-rocketed. (As did the pain level of the contractions which were now coming every 3 minutes).
Dr. Barton wanted to keep me for fear I was becoming preeclamptic.

Even though I felt like garbage...I was having a baby...soon!

Remember when I said Heavenly Father loved me?
Well, He does. A LOT.

I was admitted at 7:00 p.m.







Got my epidural at 9:00 p.m. Alone. Had sent Hubbs home to shower and change
(hello these pictures were going to be eternally shot on FILM...he had to look good.)
Needless to say, big mistake and my contractions went crazy painful after they broke my water (just seconds BEFORE he left.)

I am a wuss but a thankful wuss that there is such wonderful things as epidurals.

Mmm, epidural.

At 10:00 p.m. dilated to a five. Had Hubbs call Jon.
(Even though Hubbs and Kathleen thought I was crazy...they both thought baby wouldn't come for 'quite some time'".)

Jon arrives within the hour:



Don't I look freaking hott for being 9 months pregnant?
(I meant that...really!)



The pitocin, combined with the epidural really sped things along.
Wanna know the cool part? Who ordered the pitocin?

Dr. Lloyd.

Yep, Dr. Barton called him and HE CAME IN!

To deliver Millz.

Tears.

Miracles.



Oh the hilarity when Dr. Lloyd came into check me and I introduced him to our friend Jon.
Dr. was like, "Uhm, do you want him to LEAVE?!"

Funny.
Recall the "hooha" dilemma?

Who cares?
Really?

Anyway, he checks me and I am like at a six. Feeling TOTALLY dumb for calling Jon.
So Hubbs, Jon and I talk for the next hour.



Here I am texting mrs. r so she can give the world the play by play via twitter and facebook.

Thanks Linds.

Also, making Leisha spend tons of money by sending her texts. Get a new plan already okay Leish?





As we are sitting there, the new nurse comes in and I tell her:
"I am feeling a lot of pressure...I think the baby is ready."

So she checks me, and YEP...Millz was ready.

10.













I pushed once.

The world stopped for a moment and the room went silent when we hear,
"The cord is around her neck."

(Okay...)

Apparently all is well, when I push once more and Dr. Lloyd proclaims:
"Baby is out."

11:58 p.m.

Two minutes before my Step-dad's birthday.

What can I say, she wanted her own day.





She is beautiful, everything I imagined her to be and more.

She looks like her big sister, only with slightly smaller cheeks and lips.

Her head is perfectly round.

I bawl.

Hubbs bawls.



I think originally that her mouth is REALLY small, until I get these pictures back from Jon and see this one:



She has the same mouth as her brother and sister.

It is trademarked.



Dark hair. Tiny hands.

I hear her weight: 7lbs 9 ounces.

I proclaim: "She is so small."

Dr. Lloyd informs me that she is not small.

I insist: "Small for ME, she is TINY".

And the following photo which makes me cry to this day and is the entire reason I wanted Jon there to capture this moment, and why everyone needs someone there to capture this moment:



My sweetheart and eternal companion. I love him.
The best daddy ever.

He adores her already.







She is perfect in every way.
Teary.

I still do nothing but hold her.

I am the luckiest girl.

THE LUCKIEST.

All of my dreams have come true.

So will yours.

Keep hoping.

Never, never, never give up hope.

Never.

3 point 5

3.5 weeks ago.

Wow. Time is flying, and yet at the same time it feels like she has been here forever.

She is familiar. We know her spirit. It is the same spirit that has been fighting to come here for over a year.

I feel a bit sad that I haven't been writing very much. I miss my friends via the blog world. I miss reading your posts and seeing your updates. There is this part of me that is so afraid of missing a moment that I just can't pull myself away from Millz, and away from my other kiddos.

I know in time that things will slowly go back to normal, but until then, I am not ready to give up the infinite amounts of time spent cuddling and holding this new little being.

As soon as I get the pics, I will tell you all about the day she was born.
(I can't wait to share.)

Until then? My phone is off.

I am hiding, and cuddling, and holding onto this time as much as I can.

Blame it on the hormones...

Image copyright Jonathan Canlas Photography

...but when I got on facebook this morning, the tears began because I didn't expect to see a message from our friend Jon saying that:

these babies were online.

I cannot begin to describe what these photographs do to me.

Go here to see them put together into a beautiful story.

I love my job as a photographer.
I have had the opportunity to photograph two birth stories thus far in my journey.
After having my own birth photographed, I recommend it to EVERYONE.

I would be lying if I said I never had second thoughts about it.

I wasn't sure how I felt letting yet another person see my "hooha" (lol) but seeing these photographs, I could care less, and wish I could rewind time and have Jon there to capture the moments that J-Dawg and Memms entered the world.

The spirit that he captured in that tiny room, the moments of my sweet Hubbs watching his little girl are things that I would have never seen or experienced from my point of view and I thank Jon for capturing that for us in a way that is so beautiful and so sweet and so simple.

Teary, even as I write this, the feelings of that day are so strong in my heart and I know that Heavenly Father loves us so much and it was worth every tear, every heartache to get her here to us.

I encourage anyone to hire someone to capture this kind of special day through beautiful photography, you will never regret it.

If not me, well then you better be calling Jon to do it!

Thank you a million, zillion, billion times over and over Jon...and for coming so quickly after such a long day already.

Our hearts are full and so grateful.

Thank You.

For your prayers and your thoughts, and for understanding.

I know it is weird and crazy, but it is how I feel. I don't want to feel the way I have been.

I do have faith.

I do have HOPE!

I know everything WILL be okay.

Oh how I love these littles.
It seems like forever ago these were taken, just sitting here on my computer waiting for me to have the time to edit them.

I love these tiny people so much.
Can't wait to run and jump and play with them again soon!

Hope your Sabbath is the best...love Sundays.
Thank you...again. :)

Beautiful Thoughts

This has been a great topic of conversation lately between me and some of my closest friends.

This has been me.

I felt like she was talking about my heart. WOW.

I have felt this pain, and although our prayers were answered in a different way...families are amazing, and they are forever.

Of this I am certain.

Tears. Tears.

Touched.

I had the most amazing morning.

The past few weeks have been really draining on me
mentally as far as work is concerned.

I have been going through that motion of,
"Am I good enough?"
"Why am I even doing this?!"

Just the normal things I struggle with and have always struggled with
(lack of self-confidence maybe? Probably.)
I dunno.

I have been praying about it.
Heavenly Father and I are pretty tight these days.
I really mean this, with no exaggeration.

Take last night for instance.
I am on a session in Ogden, UT...the dark, dark storm clouds
are coming about a million miles an hour.
I commence praying my guts out that the downpour doesn't
happen until the session is over.

I joke with the couple,
"Don't worry, God and I a pretty tight, and it is not going to rain until we are done with our session."
45 minutes later, as I am getting ready to pose the last shot, it begins to rain.
Finish the session, get to my car, and it begins to DOWN. POUR.

Really? REALLY!
So, jokingly during the session the wife says to me,
"Could you pray for my husband? He is looking for a new job."
We both giggle. I say,
"SURE! I will tonight."
She texts me early this morning to tell me her husband got the job he wanted TODAY!
Seriously? SERIOUSLY!

Funny. But true.
I am really being silly right now, but the thing that is not silly is that my faith is strong...
and I recognize the tender mercies Father has been blessing my little family with.

...and today was no different.

I log into Facebook, and a client from 9 months ago posts this to my wall:

"So we finally have the pictures you took up on the walls here. They look AMAZING. My husband said:
"The only problem is they look like they were the pictures that came in the frames."
Last night we had the relief society presidency over to visit and the one said:
"These are probably the most emotionally charged family pictures I have ever seen."
So Thank you!
EVERYONE Loves our pictures, even if they are 9 months old :)"

Tears. This special lady had NO idea that I was struggling with my feelings and abilities, and here she was an answer to my prayer.
I cried for awhile this morning, it was so nice to hear that I have affected people with my photography.
That is what I hope to do, to capture a fleeting moment,
and make it timeless and forever.

Just wanted to share today, how thankful I am.

...and oh if you need me to pray for you, just let me know in the comments.

Kidding...well, kind of, I am just worried the lightening is going to strike.

M.I.A

I never meant for the past month to go by like it did.
I meant to be here, blogging as usual, but time and life and
emotions slipped away from me as it sometimes does.

The month of May 2009
has been an amazing one.
One full of journeys and introspection.
It has also been one of being stuck on the outside looking in on people I love who are hurting and suffering, with no way of helping, except to say,
"I love you."
"That sucks more than anything." or
"I am here for you...whatever you may need."

In an effort to try to jump back into my blog, and to actually give you something worth reading and coming here for...here I am.
Hi.
I missed you.
I missed my blog.
My heart is still extremely heavy. Such is life, and somehow we must push forward and find what wonderful things are waiting for us.

Lots have been asking, (oh how I hate...no no...DETEST drawing attention to myself.)
Weird right? Considering this is MY. BLOG.
But it is true. I am shy, and would rather stay in the shadows...
but as per your request this was me and "Millz" (code name for blogging purposes) a month ago at six months.
Millz is a girl. I thought I made that clear? Some of you didn't know.
We are THRILLED, (Although Hubbs is still freaking a little at having two girls to take care of).
This little girl has been waiting A. LONG. TIME. to come to our family, and we have been waiting for her to FINALLY be on her way. FER REALZ!
Only 8-10 more weeks.
Squee!



Puffy and slouchy...oooo SO hawt. (Photo Courtesy of Hubbs May 3, 2009)



Here is my stunning Grammy and me the day my Papa passed away. Don't we look amazing? This lady just had hip replacement! A week after Papa's funeral. Isn't she bomb? Love you so much Grandma...and eat up on those Hershey bars okay?



The last picture of Grandpa. Hubbs took this one (that is why it sucksalicious...you know I love you baby...I am teasing, TEASING).
At first I really hated it...but now I love it.
I love my kids contemplating eternal life.
I love remembering the feeling in that room, although it was heartbreaking, it was very very spiritual.
So glad he is in a better place.
Love you Papa.



And one I took of my little man. Oh how I love him. He is my joy and my buddy.

Hope you are all having a wonderful week.
I am hoping you are all getting away for this Memorial weekend.
We were going to go to New Mexico, but seeing how blasted hot it is here, I am personally skipping out going into EXTREME temps.
Going to the pool today...and sleeping in ALL WEEKEND LONG!

What are your plans?