She's a Month! What?!!

back before she had eyebrows

Emery turned 1 (month) on Saturday. She is absolutely delightful! It has been the funnest getting to know this little munchkin and have her on this side of the belly. Here are some things about our little Emmy girl. Let's start at the top:

*She loves having her hair washed. Slash scalp massages in general. She's not entirely sure about the whole bath experience so we scrub her little body down, wrap her up in a towel and finish with her head, tilted back in the sink all salon style like.

however, she does not like to play aladdin

*Speaking of hair, it will NOT lie flat.
*She is a little drama queen. She makes the funniest faces and has more expressions than any new baby I have ever seen. She keeps us laughing.

*Holds her head up like a champ. Daddy does daily exercises with her and they're paying off. This girl is strong! She also likes to pretend she can crawl.
*Loves her pacifier and when put in her mouth she furrows her eyebrows, raises her shoulders, and brings her hands up to her face. She looks like a little baby boxer. Very serious business this binky thing.
*Hardly ever cries. It's more of a cough, sniff, sniff, sniff. I don't even know.
*Weighs approximately 8 pounds and wears newborn sized clothes and diapers but is starting to grow out of these...fast!
*Favorite place is Mommy's chest with her right ear over my heart. This is also Mommy's favorite place.

okay, so she is equally okay with lying on daddy

*Is a morning person? Is turning her mother into a morning person? What the what?
*Somehow gets cuter every day. How is this possible?!

We love this little girl so much!

Emery Quinn

So I thought it would be a piece of cake to write this, but alas, three things are making it particularly difficult:
1. The day was PERFECT and I am not that great of a writer to convey how perfect it was.
2. Bryson made this PERFECT video that pretty much sums up the day.
3. I'm holding a sleeping PERFECT baby as I type this one-handed.

There is just too much perfection in my life right now.

I'll do my best.

Emery’s birth story actually begins weeks before she arrived. We all know how much I loved (hated, really truly hated) being pregnant. Well, it somehow got even worse those last few weeks. I was diagnosed with a mild form of cholestasis. Which is a liver disease that makes you itch really bad and poses some risk for the baby. It was hell. Let’s not dwell on it.

Anyway, because cholestasis makes you high risk, I was scheduled to be induced at 39 weeks, if she didn’t come before then on her own. Each day leading up to the 30th dragged on. I became this itchy pregnant robot, consumed by thoughts of her coming. But I am living proof that sheer willpower will not make something happen. On the night of the 26th (a Saturday), I remembered I had posted this picture on instagram.

from elder wirthlin's oct 2006 GC talk

The 27th would be her birthday. I just knew it. I burst into tears. My Sunday was coming. It was just hours away. I would have my baby. 

But she didn't come on Sunday, or Monday, or Tuesday. I'd been having regular contractions for a week, but no baby. All that stuff on the internet saying that early labor can last up to several hours was lying. It's DAYS. And then I got the call from the hospital that I never thought I would get: I would be induced the next morning at 7 a.m.

Deep breath. It was all coming to an end. A peace finally settled over me. She really was coming when she was supposed to. 

I woke up early on Wednesday, sort of in shock that this was really happening. Today was the day I would become a mother! We loaded up the car, made a pit stop to Sonic, and got to the hospital by 7:05.

Everything was so calm. No rushing to the hospital, no pain, nothing. It was all so different from what I had expected. We just walked in there like, "Oh, this is a hospital? I thought it was our hotel for the next couple of days?" It was too easy. My labor and delivery nurse hooked me up to all the monitors and said she hoped she would get to meet my baby before her shift ended at 6. I wasn’t very optimistic--my mom was in labor with me for 36 hours and pushed for 2 more. I knew I would probably have a similar experience. My cake walk had to come to an end, right? 

I was already dilated to a 3 when Pitocin was started at 8. (I guess that week of contractions wasn't all for nothing!) Forty minutes later I got the epidural, mostly because I knew I was going to get it anyway. And I was going to be here for a very long time so a nap at some point would be nice. 

I had had one contraction that I didn’t really like. One! 

The epidural had narcotics and made me feel pretty out of it so a lot of the morning was a blur. I know the dr. came in at one point and broke my water and I got the lovely catheter, but that's about it. I had brought In Style, Vogue, a card game, and a whole season of Gilmore Girls but I just sat there. (Obviously I was prepared for the long haul. You can't argue with genetics, right? I was going to be laboring all day, right?) I was put on my right side and the nurse said she’d be back in an hour to check my progress. Maybe now I would take a nap?

At 10:20 my nurse came back (it hadn't been an hour) and said that the baby's heart rate was dropping with each contraction which either meant that I was progressing really fast or she had the cord wrapped around her somehow. (But not to worry, it's not a big deal!) I figured it was the latter but she checked me, looked mildly surprised and said "You're at a 7 and almost completely effaced. If you keep progressing this fast you'll have a baby by 2." What?! This was hours before I expected. So I was flipped to my left side to see if her heart rate would do better (it did) and I texted my mom that this baby was coming soon!

texting one handed. cuz i'm a wimp and felt like my arm was falling off

My mom showed up pretty quick after that. Within another hour, the nurse was back to check me again and everyone's jaw dropped to the floor when she said I was at a 10 and ready to go.  She said baby's head was still pretty high up there so she would call the doctor and ask if I should start pushing now or if we should wait an hour for her to move down on her own. I told the nurse I would like wait if the doctor thought that would be okay. He did. So I was put in "rest and descend" mode while Bryson's parents rushed to the hospital. My pitocin dose was turned down as my body had taken over and the baby warmer was turned on. The next hour flew by. 

My nurse came back with all the lovely birth stuff, our parents left and I was put in the stirrups. She called my doctor and the nursery nurses (when they broke my water they noticed baby girl had pooped so they wanted them in there just in case) and told them I was going to start pushing. The nurse warned me that with first babies this part can take anywhere from 1-3 hours. Yep, I was ready for that...but wait! I had never done this before and I was numb down there! How do you push a baby out exactly? I mean, I'd heard it compared to pushing a piano through a straw. Also, I felt like I could really use a nap (again, the narcotics!)

My angel labor and delivery nurse was at my left leg, my angel husband at my right. A contraction started and I tried to follow instructions as best as I could. Pushing a baby out is probably one of the least attractive things a woman will ever do in her life, but I wish I could've bottled those (spoiler alert!) 20 minutes up and relive them a hundred times. I didn't feel the narcotics. I was completely there, but also totally inside my head, my body. Here was the moment I had waited for my entire life. Here was the moment I prayed for and begged for and cried for for those 9 miserable months. I was becoming a mother. I was becoming ME. 

"She has hair!" said my nurse. And Bryson braved a look and confirmed that our baby did, in fact, have a lot of hair. Well I wanted to meet this baby who had a lot of hair. And I pushed with everything I had. I released those 9 months. The doctor was called, and 10 minutes later I was told to stop pushing because there was another human on this earth at 1:10 p.m. My baby girl. My little Emery Quinn.

You know that moment in life that we all secretly (or not so secretly) wait for; the moment where you feel like I have arrived? The moment where Harry kills Voldemort or Lorelei and Luke finally get together or Rapunzel brings Flynn back to life with her magical tears? That was my moment, ironically, in her arrival. Here I was. The real me. The best me. I do not believe there is anything else I could do in this life that would equal the pride I felt in that moment.

cell phone pics

I immediately burst into tears and my doctor put her on my tummy for just a minute before being whisked over to the nurses who had to do some serious suction stuff on her. She had swallowed a fair amount of meconium. Yummy. Everyone was talking and the doctor was stitching me up but I only had eyes and ears for our little Emery. After what felt like forever, they weighed and measured her. 6 pounds 14 ounces and 19 inches. 

Then I got to really hold her. There aren't words that can describe how much love I felt in that moment. Love for Emery and love for Bryson. The medical team wanted to take her down to the nursery right away but I really wanted Bryson to hold her before they took her down. He held her for about 30 seconds.This is the only thing about the day that I wish had gone a little bit differently. I wish we had had more time for that moment. I had been carrying this baby for 9 months and he finally got his turn to hold her. He finally got to be a dad. That was one of the images that helped me get through the hardest days--Bryson holding our little girl for the first time. But she needed to have the doctor look at her so they whisked her away. Bryson went with Emery and my mom stayed with me. 

best dad ever. i mean, he's wearing a Hogwarts shirt

I don't remember a lot after that (those narcotics hit me again with a vengeance!) but they took all the cords out of me and I started to feel more like myself, but exhausted. Even the easiest of deliveries is an emotional and physical roller coaster. I was so glad my mom was there with me because I wanted Bryson to be with Emery. He gave me updates (all positive) and told me she had my eyes. My eyes!

i wish i had a picture of my mom's face the first time she saw Emery. priceless.

It was about an hour later that they were able to take me down to the recovery room with a quick stop to the nursery to check on Emery. I was so excited! I had already forgotten what she looked like. I was wheeled over to her side and I can't remember what I said but she smiled at the sound of my voice and turned her head towards me. I reached to her tiny hand and she wrapped her perfect little fingers around mine. Emery knew her momma!  

I think it was another hour before I got my baby back for good. She was clean and all that hair was spiked with two yellow bows. I was finally able to get a really good look at what I had done.

the hair! the eyes! the nose! those lips!

That night, during a feeding it really hit me. My Sunday had come. On a Wednesday, but it came. My flawless little baby was here. I hated pretty much everything about being pregnant, but her birth was perfect and, dare I say, easy? I would give birth a thousand times over being pregnant again, but Bryson was right, like he always is. He told me over and over that the hard days would make her coming even better, that those nine months would help me love her so much more when she came. They did. But even more than that, I believe her spirit helped my spirit when my body was struggling to create her body. And Bryson held us all together. The three of us somehow made it through.

family of three!

In case you haven't seen it yet, Bryson made {this video}. And can I just say, this guy is my hero. The moms always get all the credit when it comes to pregnancy and birth, but I truly could not have done this without him. (A couple of business trips confirmed this). He encouraged me every day. He helped me stay positive. He brought home dinner when I felt too sick to cook. He gave me blessings. He constantly told me how awesome I was doing her whole birthday. And he works full time and goes to school full time so that I can stay home with our little girl. I don't know how I got so lucky to have him for a husband and as Emery's father.

It's been 3 weeks. We couldn't be more in love with our little girl.

this is my heaven

Just a Quick Hello

Today is my due date.
But hallelujah, my beautiful baby entered the world five days ago and I get to type this one handed.
It has been the best five days of my life.
Her story is coming soon.
But until then, enjoy this horrible quality phone picture of her from the day we brought her home.

she has the greatest dance moves

The Good Things of Motherhood

Mommas! Oh this post. I can already tell it's going to be a disaster. Such an internal dilemma I'm having. But here we are and I'm writing and posting it. Free speech! I'm American. I can say what I want.

But she's not even a mom yet. She doesn't know.

I know.

I've wanted to be a mom my entire life. Blame my religion, society, my own mother, but that was my ultimate goal. Babies. And lots of them.

Well, not too long ago, I got married. Yay! First step. Check. (And lest you think I married Bryson just for his ability to make me a mother, I assure you that that was not the case. Just an added bonus.) But I think we'd been home from our honeymoon about 3 hours before I brought up kids. Maybe it was 3 hours after we got married? I forget. Take a guess on how he responded to that. You mean you don't want to become a husband and a future father all in one day?!?!?! He didn't. He's weird. I know. But whatever.

So alas, I had to suffer through church surrounded by all these adorable children. (First time being in a family ward in 3 ish years.) I was like a kid in a candy store; constantly pointing out cute kids to Bryson who would just roll his eyes and try to focus on the speaker. I quickly discovered that I should silently admire. And this is where I began mom watching.

I saw these women with their diaper bags and three kids and was completely in awe. They had the life! I wanted a diaper bag! I wanted those cute little blankets to keep me warm during Sacrament meeting! I wanted to cuddle a baby for an entire hour! Man, they had the life.

And then we went to Sunday School. We sat in front of this cute mom with an adorable baby girl on her lap. Another woman commented on how beautiful her baby was. She responded, "Yeah, well, we wanted a boy but this is what we got." This is what we got? 

I wonder if the woman who complimented her was a mother. I wonder if she, like me, wanted to be a mother at that moment more than anything in the world. I wonder if she suffered from infertility and was told she would never be a mother in this life.

Then I went to Relief Society and I quickly learned that this was a place to vent about your kids. I left church feeling very sad and confused.

I thought it must be a fluke.

Another day, I was talking to a mom in my neighborhood about kids. She had waited several years before having kids and said it was the best thing they could have done. She encouraged me to do the same. "Just make sure you're really ready before you start having them."

via

I started noticing Facebook posts of young moms. Maybe they were trying to be funny. Maybe they were looking for likes. Maybe they were looking for sympathy. I don't know the motives. But I read things that made me feel embarrassed and sad for their young kids. Some of these moms I am very close to and admire in so many ways.

I began to think I was missing something. This motherhood thing must really be terrible. It must be a lot harder than I think. It must not be fulfilling and rewarding.

Well, in the midst of feeling terrible about all of this, the daughter of my Beehive advisor (yes, from 10 years ago) busted her leg and had to have surgery, rods, wheelchair, the whole thing. She posted updates throughout this hard time but they were very different from the trends I'd been seeing lately. Whether the daughter was progressing or not, she always put the situation in a positive light. It was an adventure and they were going to make the best of it! Heck, once she posted about how happy she was they made size 5 diapers to fit her little girl who had probably been potty trained for several years. Who are these people?!

Disclaimer: I am not this kind of person. I want to be. I wish I could've been the person who through those first few months of pregnancy had the attitude of, "Yeah, I threw up 5 times today before breakfast. At least it wasn't 6!" But I don't think this trait comes naturally to any of us. If it does come naturally to you, what kind of water are you drinking?! I need some.

via

Anyway, yes! It's hard! But it's good. It's so so good.

So all you moms out there. Can we all work on this together? Can we please stop focusing on the negative and enjoy the positive aspects of motherhood? Can we get to the end of the day and think on the two (or hopefully 10) good things that our kid did today and forget the bad? Can we encourage the new moms and the expecting moms and the want-to-be moms? Because holy cow we can find all the negative things to expect when we are expecting from Google on our own.

can't find a source on this. if you know it, let me know!

Tell us about how you felt the first time your kid said "I love you" or how they snuggle in your neck when they're tired. Tell us about their favorite bedtime stories and the pride on their faces when they learn how to do a somersault. Tell us about the excitement of the first day of school or the discovery of a ladybug.

Those are the things I want to hear. And I think those are the things you want to remember.

The Body Issue: Part 5

Remember how I used to do these? We left off with me not making the dance major...again. (Also, in case you missed it...Part 4, Part 3, Part 2, Part 1) Well, after feeling so calm and comforted that I had done everything I could do, I began to doubt. And I had a question:

Now what?!

I talked to the department head. We went over my audition and what the judges had said and basically I had had to reach a certain score and was just below that. I asked what I could work on and she gave me some vague answer. I asked what I could do from here. "Well, you can petition to try out next year. You just need a letter from a teacher giving approval and Rebecca already came and talked to me so you'll have no problems with that." I thanked her for her time and left. Wait, so why didn't I make it? I wasn't given a straight answer. I was already over halfway through the required classes for a dance major and it was starting to get difficult to register for classes because I wasn't an "official" major yet. They'd said no to me twice already, did I want to risk it a third time? I had planned on graduating the semester after tryouts! Was I really so horrible that they couldn't handle having me in the major for another year?! (These are the thoughts that kept me up at night).

Well, I thought long and hard and decided to keep dancing. It wasn't until February that I felt like I was in the wrong place and needed to get out. I looked into other schools. I looked into other majors. Nothing felt right. Nothing felt like what I wanted to do. I wanted to graduate in dance from BYU.

And then it was my roommate's birthday and all she wanted for it was a back massage. Well, I had had a lot of massages and I thought I had a good idea of what felt good and how to do it. She had a massage table from doing eyelash extensions so, what the heck, let's see how good I am. Looking back, I know I was terrible. I know I did the strokes the wrong way and I knew nothing about using body weight. Regardless, she said "You're really good at that. You should go to massage school."

So I went in my room and looked up massage schools. I found a couple and called about tours. First one was a total joke and it's good I had another appointment or I probably would have just dropped the whole idea. I talked with the admissions lady at UCMT and signed up immediately. School started in 2 weeks and I felt excited about my impulsive decision. I was still at BYU full time so I signed up for night school. I would graduate in a year.

My first day I was nervous and excited. I was surrounded by students who were very different from the BYU crowd. The teachers were eccentric and swore. I was completely out of my comfort zone. But these people loved bodies. And they didn't look at them by height or weight or flexibility or strength. They looked at how a shortening in the lower back muscles had caused a lengthening in the abdominal muscles. They looked to see if shoulders were even, and if not, does she carry her purse on her left shoulder? It was scientific, not subjective, and I loved it.

I learned how my body works. I gained a whole new appreciation for being able to bend my finger or feel my heart beat. I caught a glimpse of how complex each system is. I learned to look at my body in terms of function and health, rather than aesthetic.

At UCMT I met my best friend, Tiffany, who also happened to introduce me to my husband. After wondering for months (years) why I hadn't made the major, I realized that if I had made it, I wouldn't have met two of the most important people in my life. I feel like I got the better end of the deal. (I don't feel like this is the only reason why I didn't make the major, or why I was supposed to go to massage school, just the best reason).

A few months in, I dropped out of BYU and switched to massage school full time. Dance was a wonderful and fulfilling part of my life. I learned so much at BYU. But it was a phase. I was never meant to do it professionally, or even for my whole life. Which brings us to Part 6.

30, Flirty, and Thriving...

You know how in 13 Going on 30 13-year-old Jenna just thinks her whole life will fall into place when she's 30? Well, my 13 week self thought the same thing about being 30 weeks. And guess what?

yoga leggings and husband t-shirts=erin's pregnancy style

I WAS RIGHT!

30 weeks is the absolute best.

I feel the best I have since I got pregnant. Really quick let's get the bad things out of the way (because it is pregnancy we are talking about here so there's gotta be at least a couple negatives).

• I'm allergic to being pregnant. For reals. My hands broke out in this awesome itchy red bumpy rash that is super attractive and super not annoying... I thought it was a reaction to a lotion or something, but it didn't go away. Asked my dr. about it on the way out of my appointment last week and he's like, "Oh yeah, that happens all the time. You're just hypersensitive to pregnancy. We don't worry about it unless it breaks out all over your body. Take some Benadryl." So, you know, what I've been saying for the last 7 months is true: MY BODY DOESN'T DO THIS! Also, funny side note, Bryson and I were playing Would You Rather a few weeks ago and I was asked if I would rather have an itch that never goes away or a sneeze that won't ever come? I said the itch. Wish granted! And I actually am very proud of myself for severely limiting my scratching. 
• Shaving my legs is pretty much out of the question these days. Baby does not like to be squished. So maybe minus the "flirty" part of the title of this post.
• My ribs don't seem to know how to do this. My stomach is stretching just fine, my hips don't bother me at all, legs feel great, back is fine. But my ribs? Sheesh. They hurt something fierce.

Yay! That's it! And I can totally handle the not shaving part. So really, only 2 bad things. Now, for the good stuff.

• Only 10 more weeks! 10! That is oh so doable. 
• I'm like this crazy happy person? All those happy hormones finally hit me and I just love them so much.
• It feels close. When you have 30 weeks to go and you're in the middle of puking your guts out, you feel like you will be pregnant for longer than forever. But now... she's 3 pounds and we're like on the last little stretch here. We can do this little baby! That's a super cool feeling.
• Speaking of throwing up, it's been 10 weeks since I have. Victory dances all around.
• I can still pick things up off the floor. I still have one pair of jeans that I can button. I survived my glucose test. It's the little things.
• IT IS FALL! Bryson started school today so it's official. Fall means not 100 degree weather. And also pumpkin things and boots.

So, see what I mean? Happy freaking Monday!

because it's late and the hubs is gone

I made the mistake of watching birth story videos (you know, with happy music and everyone holding the baby for the first time...NOT the ones you watch in your child development class). Anyway, now I'm crying and holy freak I want my baby here RIGHT NOW! But I want her in her six plus poundness, not her current two and a half. Guess she can cook a little longer. But dang, hurry up, November.

I registered (oh the stress!) And if you register at Target you get a little gift bag (the main reason why I registered, actually). And it came with a little bitty baby bottle and little bitty baby diapers and I keep pulling them out and looking at them, they are so wonderful and tiny.

This text happened tonight and it made me so giddy with happiness. "What is my life????" I mean, can you get any more twitterpated than that?

oh how i love that Ashley Benja

Bryson is gone. It's terrible, really. Here's his schedule: 6-wake up, film until lunch; lunch- then drive for five hours to their next destination, film, have dinner, party with the sales guys until midnight, then go to bed. What is this madness? I can't even sit still for five minutes anymore. I would die on that driving-5-plus-hours-every-day trip. But he's a trooper and I can't wait for him to come home! Until then, I will spend my days browsing Sephora and reading, which brings me to...

I have a new obsession with Little House on the Prairie books. I've read the first two in the last 3 days. My mom read them all to me when I was a little girl but I hardly remember anything. Basically I am so glad I wasn't born back then. Or pregnant back then. But I'm loving them. And what has happened to today's youth?! I mean, Laura used a corn cob as a doll for crying out loud.

Found this picture of my mom today. This was when she was my age. Isn't it just fantastic?

I also found a birthday card I had written to her when I was still quite small that said "Sorry I complain so much." Guess it started at a young age...

But oh, life is grand. I'm liking my third trimester? What? Isn't this one supposed to be the worst? But I'm huge and happy about it, which I never thought I would be. But me being huge means she is coming soooon! And I just can't wait. Also, I'm an organization freak now (which is why I am going through all these mementos, my mother is putting my nesting to work!) My hair is the thickest it's ever been in my entire life please don't fall out, please don't fall out, please don't fall out. I can also still touch my toes, which is like wonder of wonder miracle of miracles.

So, all in all, we're happy over here.

On Naming a Babe

You guys. Why is it that in Jr. High one can have a plethora of perfect baby names (in far greater numbers than one wants to have children) and then suddenly you are pregnant and you have NOTHING?! 

*okay, not nothing, it just feels like it

**also, I know we have time, lots of time, to figure out a name, but come on, it would be fun to know beforehand 

So. Naming... And why are girls names so much harder?! Boys are so easy! We had too many boy names picked out (first and middle, mind you) and alas, here we are having a girl. And we agree on like 2 names, but I don't feel like either of us particularly loves any of them?

Rambling. Yesterday I was thinking of our #1 name as of late and every possible scenario she would be in where there is the potential for name awkwardness. For example, telling your name to the person in Gandolfo's who is making your sandwich. Or the first day of school (will it be too long to even fit on the roll? Southworth is prettttty long already and we wouldn't want an awkward half name. But maybe they don't have this problem anymore because everything is probably on the computer anyways? Does anybody know this? Can you ease my mind about giving our child a long name?) Or when she is getting proposed to? _______ will you marry me? Does that sound good? Could she potentially have the same name as her future husband? (We think about these things around here. Kim & Kim are Bryson's parent's names.) What if she starts her own brand? Is her name going to look good on a label? What if she's a lawyer and needs a name that sounds super sophisticated? And will people really think of the anime character every time they meet her? I mean, am I over thinking this?

Help.

Monday Sunnies

• Baby is a kicker! Especially between the hours of 10 p.m. and 6 a.m. Sometimes we watch her move under my skin and it is the coolest/weirdest thing I have ever experienced in my life. Also, my momma got to feel her move for the first time last night and that was pretty cool.
• Tiger Butter caramel apples from Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory. OHHHHMYYGOSHHH. I can't handle the amazing-ness of it all. And Bryson is on a diet so I got the whole thing to myself. Muahahahaha.
  

  

  i can't look at this picture without wanting one

• In my darkest days of pregnancy, I listened to this song on repeat while lying on the bathroom floor. It kind of became "our song" (the baby's and mine, mine and the baby's?). It got me through some tough times. Well, it came on Pandora the other day and baby girl started dancing up a storm! I like to think that she knows it's our special thing.

• We're down to about 100 days left! Who wants to make a paper chain with me? Every 10 days we'll go get a celebratory apple :)

Monday Sunnies

• 19 weeks! 19 weeks! Next week we get the much anticipated gender reveal ultrasound. It's feeling like Christmas over here. Also, 20 weeks means halfway, which means...it is as big as some obscure vegetable? 
• I had the weirdest dream last night that I could fly. I had to basically run in the air or I'd start falling, which was exhausting (good thing I was sleeping!), but it was seriously cool. 
• I had my first random-person-rubbing-my-belly moment. And what are y'all whining about? I thought it was great. Like now I'm the magic lamp and the baby bump has the power to grant wishes. But only 3. Let's not get overzealous.
• I realized that Sarah Dessen's new book came out and totes had to buy it. But alas, it was $20 in the store and $13 online. So, obvious choice. BUT THEN if I bought $25 worth of books, I could get free shipping! 2 (1 only brought me to $24) more books found their way to my virtual shopping cart. And I ended up spending $33. And now I'm WAITING forever because the reason you buy books from the store is so you can read them immediately. Also, my husband thinks I'm weird. But at least I'm spending my personal money on something worthwhile, Mr. Smelling Salts. (For reals he bought ammonia filled little packets to stick in people's faces as a joke. Hil-ar-i-ous.) We make a good couple, I think.
• Milagros! 
• First snow cone of the season and hallelujah, because I had been craving that stuff for-eva. Bryson was a little excited about the ice cream (yes, hidden ice cream at the bottom of a snow cone, what will they think up next?) and poked a hole through the cup. The sixteen-year-old girl working in the shack laughed at us.
• National Donut Day!

Okay, too much talk about food. I think my work here is done. Happy Monday!

fist bump to all the guys out there who have lived with a pregnant woman

To the Love of My Life

I'm sitting on my old bed at my parents' house

Wishing I wasn't stranded here without you

I hate sleeping by myself

I wrote half of this post months ago

and could never find all the words

I still don't think I can

They always focus on how difficult pregnancy can be for the mom

But they never give the dads-to-be enough credit

I want you to get some credit

I want you to know that I'm really grateful for all the back tickles

and that you came home every day with a smile on your face.

I'm so grateful you were never upset with me for sleeping in

or for still being in my pajamas when you got home

I want you to know that I'm glad you ate all those fries with me

and that you would kiss my tummy before you left for work

I want you to know how much it meant to me

that you told me I was beautiful every day

That no matter how many days I had gone without doing laundry

or washing the dishes, you never made me feel like a bad wife

I want you to know that you are what got me through every day

Knowing that in 10 minutes you would walk through the door 

and hold me and remind me of why we were doing this

was enough to get me off the bathroom floor

In the Bible when Christ is suffering in Gethsemane

It talks about how God sent an angel to comfort Him

I used to think this was strange because the angel couldn't help with the pain

Now I understand the angel

I want you to know that I know it was hard for you too

maybe a lot harder than it was for me in some ways

I want you to know that I couldn't have done it without you

and that I can't do this without you

love love love love love love love love love love love love

A Very Long Wordy Post About Being Pregnant But I Tried to Make it Funny?

I have decided to document my life via this blog and because of that, I want to write about the last few months (or the first few months, depending on how you look at it).
I've been putting it off for several reasons. 1. My first trimester did not end when everyone said it would. Or at least, my body didn't think the party was over yet, and 2. The internet is a scary thing. As a girl who sucks up everything she reads, google has actually come to be code for "you're pregnant which means this million things can and WILL go wrong with you." Even the wonderful bloggers out there can unintentionally inflict the worst kind of worry on a person by simply documenting their lives. And I don't want to be that blogger for someone else. So, with that being said,
DISCLAIMER: This was MY experience. Chances are, yours will be completely different! And here's the great thing about this whole life on earth thing. You think you can handle so much. And then sometimes life (or God) says "Guess what? You can handle a little bit more." And you really can. Even if you think you can't. So that is my disclaimer. Do not think that my experience will be your experience.

I mentioned in the finding out post that I was light headed the day I took the pregnancy test. Well I think that was also the last day I wasn't nauseous. It started out with just severe nausea (I say severe because I really think this was the worst part. Throwing up is bad. Feeling like you are car sick with the flu on a roller coaster 24-7 is a billion times worse). And in my crazy pregnant mind I thought You must not throw up. This is not the flu. You will not feel better if you throw up. If you throw up you have to eat. And that means food. It was a very Gollum/Smeagol-ish time in my life. I hated food. It was torturous to choke down a cracker. And honestly, if I hadn't had a little bitty baby alien to feed, I probably would've chosen starving to death over eating with all that nausea.

Also, let me say something about fast food real quick. Remember how I wanted to go all Vegetarian/healthy/I love my body and want to give it the nutrients it needs? Yeah, that went down the toilet with a lot of other stuff those first few months. Fries were the best. The literal best. The saltier and least resembling potatoes the better. And fountain Dr. Pepper. (I hate all carbonation in general so this was the most bizarre). I had to get over that being healthy thing reallllllly quick because eating anything at all was a gold medal in my book. Like Olympic gold. Not community sports, A for Effort gold.

Then one day it got so bad, Gollum literally could not talk me out of throwing up. And I did. And it was glorious. I felt better. Not 100% better, but comparatively. Like I didn't want to die. And you know what? A cheeseburger with those fries and fountain Dr. Pepper sounded really good. We probably went and got one. And I probably couldn't eat it once we got it (this happened a lot). I honestly can't remember. Those months are all a blur.

I would also like to say, by this point I felt like a total sissy pants. My mom threw up once her whole pregnancy and I wasn't going to be that girl who threw up every morning and complained about it the rest of the day. (And to you girls, I AM SO SORRY I EVER DOUBTED YOU! THIS STUFF IS THE WORST!) I was going to be strong! I was going to eat healthier than I ever have and do moderate exercise on a regular basis! I was going to like being pregnant! HA!

I was sick. Really sick. All day. For several weeks. Months, really. And at 8 weeks when it got almost unbearable and my little pregnancy app said "You may start having some nausea at this point." I gagged and said, "START?! This is when it's supposed to start?! I've been dealing with this #*$& for weeks!" And then I threw up. They also said that this week I would be feeling much happier and not sick. Which is another story for another time.

ANYWAY, we had our first dr.'s appointment. And I almost passed out standing at the desk to give them my insurance card. And luckily this is a place used to pregnant people because the nice lady gave me an apple juice and B filled out the paperwork. And said my birthday was March 24, 2013. Which I think is hilarious. So we're all excited out of our minds because this was meaning it was real! And it truly was a wonderful dr.'s appointment. We met with the nurse lady person and she gave me a billion pregnancy magazines and a prescription for Zofran. With 4 refills. And let me tell you, that stuff is the best stuff to ever happen to me. And I got to keep my clothes on the whole time. I also had to have all the blood taken out of my body.**

**Okay, not all. But I have found a trick. Once upon a time I had to have blood drawn and they gave me the little intern girl who was scared and didn't know what she was doing and I passed out and had a seizure. And after that I have never been the same. So I ALWAYS tell the phlebotomist (spelled that right first try) that I am THE WORST to take blood from. And they never give me the scared intern. And they talk to me the whole time and are super duper careful and do you want to put your feet up? And I haven't passed out since. And all is right in the world. Except that I was nauseous at this taking-of-blood experience so it was good that B was there to help me walk out of there without fainting. Glad I had my apple juice.

So then I went to Target and got my little red bottle with the yellow ring around it and paid my $20 (1 for each pill-totes worth it). And I took one. I now understand drug addicts. Because seriously that stuff is heaven sent. Again, I wasn't 100%, but I could maybe eat something? Like maybe a Gandolfo's sandwich? Like the sky just opened up and I could hear the angels singing. It took off the edge. The horrible horrible edge where you really question everything you knew about yourself.

So. Long story short, here is basically a sum up of what those months meant for me:
I could not do the dishes. The smell and the food and the everything about dirty dishes just could not be handled. So I kinda totes failed in that department. Also cooking. Couldn't do that either. Wife fail.
I also couldn't handle the smell of anything. Good or bad. No smells at all. Which is horrible for someone who magically got a bionic nose at the exact same time all of this was happening. For reals that is the sense I could go without.
I could not stand up for longer than a few minutes at a time. So you know, showering became a scrub down and rinse. Shaving became a thing of the past. And then by that time I was gonna pass out and had lost all my strength to comb out my hair and maybe put on some lotion so I don't get stretch marks.
I never ever ever looked cute. Ever. Even on Sundays when I got dressed, I couldn't manage to do the hair and makeup, even with the most minimal effort. This is actually how the Primary President knew I was preggo. "You just didn't look as good." (I don't think that's what she actually said. But that's what she meant. And it's fine cuz it was true.)
I broke out. Bad. Like I've never really had bad skin and now here it was. Like what I should've looked like in high school. Also this hasn't gone away. Dealing with it.
Throwing up in the comfort of your own home is a wonderful luxury. Luckily I work from home (mostly) so this was a huge blessing. I did have 2 side-of-the-road incidents, one Bryson was kind enough to take pictures of, and the second, a nice man in a Beamer pulled over and asked if I was okay. "Yep! Just pregnant!" Like I said, throwing up at home is the best option.

This has been a horrible rambling of horrible events. But luckily, this is Part 1. The bad stuff usually happens in Part 1. There is, however, a Part 2 (this is not trimesters. Trimesters are a load of boloney that dr's and apps feed you to get through the Part 1). And Part 2 is great. And I know Part 3 (which will probably be a baby) is the best part. So we're all looking forward to that.

Also I'm super duper proud of you if you read all of that. I know it was torturous.

Finding Out

It was March 3rd.

Fast Sunday.

I was late.

And feeling very lightheaded.

I had always had weird "period stuff"

(abnormal cramping, irregularity, etc.)

The word Endometriosis had come up a couple times

But you can't really do anything for that

except wait and see if it messes with your ability to conceive

I never really worried though

Infertility wouldn't be my cross to bear

We decided early this year that it was time to start trying

(actually, Bryson did. I'd always been on board)

I wanted a baby the day we got married

and I had to learn to be patient

like I had had to learn so many times before

I just felt like our baby was ready

But Dad had to be ready too

And I'm so glad it took him as long as it did

There was one day towards the end of February

that I had a little panic attack

I knew I wasn't pregnant

I knew I couldn't get pregnant

I would have to wait longer

I did have endometriosis

I wouldn't be able to be a mom

And I think for those 24 hours I knew

what it felt like to be infertile.

The next day I went to the temple with my mom

And I was reminded of what I had known all along

Infertility was not my trial.

My body could do this conceiving thing

I left feeling happy and relieved

Back to March 3rd.

I had had sharp pains in my stomach

for the last couple of days

I figured it was some weird new pre-period symptom

but I was late

and that was actually out of the norm

Google is the best, isn't it? Smartphones are lifesavers, right?
I searched "sharp pains early pregnancy symptom"

And there was a whole message board!

I read how hundreds of women had this as their first pregnancy symptom

I took a screenshot of one story and sent it to Bryson

He responded "Very interesting..."

and left it at that.

How could he be so calm at a time like this?!

Church ended and I rushed out of Primary

Bryson was standing right outside the door

and we hurried to the car

He asked me if I had my wallet and I said no

He told me to look in the glove box

(where he always keeps a $20)

We both knew what we were going to do

But lo and behold!

A box of pregnancy tests!

The man had skipped out on Priesthood to go to Macy's.

"I figured it was better than both of us breaking the Sabbath,"

he said.

We got home and I charged toward the bathroom

with the man on my heels

"You're not coming in!" I said

"Oh, yes I am!"

"No way, Jose!"

"Then you better come out the second it says."

So I peed on the stick and hadn't even flushed

when that little plus sign showed up

I was screaming and laughing and yelling

"I'm pregnant!"

to Bryson, whose head had managed to find its way around the door

"No way, Jose,"

he said, because these things were supposed to take minutes

But there it was

and that logical boy couldn't deny the evidence

We were gonna be parents!

About Baby S

Here's what we know so far.

I am 15 weeks. Which means we (baby, me, Bryson, our marriage) survived the first trimester. This is actually more surprising than you might think.

I am probably going to write a very long post about that soon. 

Baby is about the size of an apple or orange, depending on who you're asking. Basically it's huge.

My stomach is poking out a little. Bryson thinks it's weird that it's not squishy. I didn't stick a pillow up my shirt, babe. There's a baby in there. (I think this is actually him saying that I have rock hard abs. Ha)

I am due November 4th. Which means many awesome things, including: I will either be ginormous for Halloween (million costume ideas) or have a newborn (million and one costume ideas), we will have a baby for Christmas, and I have all winter to lose the weight. Really it's like perfect timing.

It's heartbeat is officially THE BEST sound in the entire world. 145 bpm. Dr says it sounds like a boy. They also told my mom the same thing. 

We're finding out next month so y'all should start casting your votes now!

Monday Sunnies

Quotes by the hubs this week

B: Hey! Why are you being lumpy?
E: Because I'm fat!
B: Hahahahaha why do you always have to turn it into something weird?
E: Because you're the one who called me lumpy!
B: Just because you don't like to be called grumpy or frumpy.

Mary Kay prize

After getting this ring in the mail, B wanted to do it right so he said
B: Pretend I'm on one knee
E: Okay
Whips open the ring box
B: Erin, will you Mary Kay me?

B: Hey!
E: What?
B: I listend to Wicked today
E: *skeptical* Really? Why's that?
B: Because I like it. *sings* "Kiss me too fiercely"
I kissed him

In other news, we watched Marley and Me which I just bawled through the whole thing. And Bryson looked at me like I was a psycho because he's not a dog person. Which is not happy, it just happened.

I also found a really spectacular picture of {Ashley} from our Senior year Madrigal scrapbook. I will not post it on here as a courtesy to her, but just know that it is wonderful.