When I started cloth diapering 15 years ago, I primarily bought all my diapers from a company called Cotton Babies. In every order, they included a laminated 3×4 double-sided card. One one side, it said, “You are a Good Mom” with girly colors and on the other side it said, “You are a Good Dad” with blues. The idea was to remind ourselves that we are good.

Many families, would take the cards and put them on the fridge, flipping them every so often to remind the other that they too were a good parent. It still hangs out around my house…moving from place to place. Flipped by me, flipped by the kids—15 years later!!! I bet you’ve seen it if you’ve been to my house.

I think we all have our good days and our bad days but we are doing our best in whatever moment we are in. And we all need the reminders…we all need to be told that we are good (even the kids!)

So lets rewind back to the Ed Sheeran concerts. A random stranger, after watching me with my kids and husband for over an hour, leaned in and said, “You are a good mom!”

What did that stranger see?

He saw me at a concert where I knew hardly any songs dancing.

He saw me spend time with my teenager, trying to get him to loosen up.

He saw me sit with my daughter and cuddle.

He saw me reach for my husband and hold hands behind my daughters back.

He saw me let my daughter hang with her friend and then bring her friend into our fold.

He saw me force water.

He saw me giving a little to each person individually at their level. Pushing, loving, connecting.

What he didn’t see was that I had been purposeful about it all night. In the car, in the walk, how we split, how we ate. It’s what we do as Mom’s, constantly stirring the chaos into something beautiful. It takes a lot, a lot unseen, but when someone noticed and shares that recognition—it’s amazing.

I later asked Isaac if he heard the guy. He said he had and that he was right. When I asked him why he thought he said that, he responded that it was because I was pushing him to have a good time.

I don’t write all this to brag. I write it to remember. So on that day (like the first day of school), when I fail miserably, I can remember the time I got it right. I also write to encourage you, the reader, to stay something when you see someone doing good, whatever it is—it just might be what they need to get through the day.

On Saturday I went to a concert with 84,000 people. That’s a whole lotta people!

Lynzie has always liked Ed Sheeran. When we watched his recent documentary, we decided we would take the older kids. This meant finding (paying) for a babysitter for M, but she complicates things so much.

Anyhoo…day of…Lynzie had auditions for the Little Mermaid for four hours, which meant we could only leave to barely get to the concert on time. No going early and tailgating for us!

When I picked Lynzie up, she immediately told me she was tired. We joked about it all the way home and laughed. She didn’t feel warm or act sick in any other way.

We got ourselves changes, grabbed a quick snack and headed out the door. The drive was long and traffic was less than fun. We ended up parking after the concert started, but it was raining so we weren’t too worried. We had about a mile to walk (with thousands of our closest friends).

As we were walking, Zach was holding Lynzie’s hand, so I decided to hold Isaac’s. Of course, he rolled his eyes, but he didn’t protest as much as I would have expected. 🙂 We had a beautiful full double rainbow to enjoy. And if you know me, you know I love rainbows…so lots of photos were taken and lots of joy expressed during our walk.

Once we got into the stadium, Zach went to get us beer and I started walking the kids to the merch line, but it was sooooo long!! After a brief discussion and Lynzie complaining about just wanting to sit down, we split up. I took Lynzie to our seats and Zach and Isaac stood in line.

All was good until Zach was completely annoyed by the line and hot and so I suggested he send Isaac to me and then I would switch with him.

This seemed like a great idea! The kids and Zach would get to watch Khalid (who’d just stepped on stage) and I would be done by the time Ed came on and we could avoid all the lines AFTER (so we could get home to the babysitter).

As soon as I started down the ramp, they delayed the concert because of lightning and asked all the people to head to the concourse! I tried to call Isaac, but nothing. So I texted. HOLD YOUR SISTERS HAND! DON’T LEAVE HER.

I found Zach and he informed me that he had talked to Isaac. They were safe and had found a place to sit and wait out the storm. He also said he was glad I was there because he was gonna need to fight some people.

A little note about Zach…he often says he is going to fight people when he finds them annoying and doing/saying stupid things, but he never starts something. It’s just his way of expressing his frustration to me. Totally a joke.

We got our merch, but now we had no service!! UGH! I was so worried about the kids. We headed back up (we had seats in the nosebleed section) and the main hall on our level was BEYOND crowded. You couldn’t move and we didn’t know WHERE the kids were.

We searched. We split up. We came back together. We called. We texted. Finally after like an hour, Isaac picked up and we were able to coordinate a meeting point….right about the time we could go back to the seats for the concert to start….well the main act, the opening acts pretty much got skipped.

Lynzie’s friend, mom and sister had gotten tickets a few rows behind us, we offered to let Lynzie go up there, but she wanted nothing to do with anything.

While we sat in our seats, waiting to get going, the guy behind us told us joke after joke after joke. Some pretty good ones too! It was nice entertainment.

Around 9, it poured rain. Before we’d left, I’d asked Zach if he thought we should bring the ponchos and he assured be there was 0% chance of rain—0%. Now we’ve been delayed nearly three hours due to lightning and rain! We were soaked. Lynzie’s friend’s mom decided she was going to leave since the little one was miserable and asked if we could take Lynzie’s friend home.

The girls went to sit in the rows above us. Once the concert started and people stood up, I had them come down and we all stood together for most of the concert, until we needed to pee and water.

Our jokester left and Zach took his seat and Lynzie sat in his lap. She watched/experienced most of the concert curled in a ball with her eyes closed. I was so sad because she’d been so, so, so excited to go. She definitely went downhill as the hours progressed.

After the last song, we had to walk a mile back to the car, where we sat in a parking lot not moving for about 40 minutes. We finally got home at 2am….10 hours after our adventure began.

Morgan was still awake. She insisted she was not tired, but she did want to snuggle. She never got to snuggle because she fell asleep before I could pee and brush my teeth.

Lynzie did have a fever of 101 when we got home and went straight to bed.

I drank two big beers during the adventure and it didn’t have a chance to fully process. When that happens, I generally sleep for about an hour or two and spend the rest of the night in misery, which is exactly what happened. I got exactly 1.5 hours of sleep before my body said, time to wake up…and then I had to drive Isaac to Castle Rock for tryouts….I was a literal walking zombie!

Good news! Isaac was rested enough and performed well enough to make the the team! He is super excited…this team has been the “team” to be on. He gets to have some of the best in the biz be his coaches. For me it means a little less weekday driving, which I’m all about.

This post was supposed to have taken a different flow…so I’ll have to try that version of the story tomorrow…stay tuned for “Good Mom.”

I failed on day 1.

We didn’t make it up for yoga.

I braided Lynzie’s hair wrong.

I made Isaac take a shower and go back home for breakfast.

I made Lynzie cry.

Morgan didn’t get enough sleep and was whiny a miserable all morning.

I got worked up over stupid shit and yelled at everyone.

Everyone is mad at me (and understandably so).

I’m frustrated at the stupid school system and people in general.

Today we are not winning. Today was a bad day for no other reason than myself. All I can hope is that I pull myself out of this funk and treat my family kindly and that my tomorrow is a better day.

I recently read some of my blog posts to the kids. They loved it. I used it as a way to demonstrate why we should be writing about our life, our thoughts, our fears, our hopes and dreams. So tonight we write. For 10 minutes we are writing about the beginning of the school year, whatever that means for us.

For me, it’s freedom (in a way). Zach comes back to me in the middle of the day. He runs interference with Morgan, fixes me lunch and has time to do middle of the day errands (gas, groceries, car stuff, etc.). It seriously AMAZING!

It also means more routine. We are going to try our AM Yoga before school again. It was so great last year. Isaac is moving on to high school, which means he gets to ride the bus! And he has to get on about the time Lynzie starts school, which means Morgan has to wake up early every day and walk with Lynzie and I to school. We will see how she does waking up so early.

Morgan has a few more weeks of summer before she heads back to Preschool. This year she will be going 3 days a week instead of 2 and I think she will really thrive. She so reminds me of Isaac and needs to be occupied every moment of every day.

The older kids are both going to be trying out for teams in the next week. Lynzie is going out for the rec gymnastics league and Isaac is trying out for the ninja team he has been scared of for years. In addition to this, Lynzie is going to be part of her third musical — The Little Mermaid! I’m so proud of her for coming out of her shell and trying something she as unsure of. She’s loves it and it builds her confidence so much.

Z & I aren’t changing much in this year, but I hope that we can build more on the core of WTF, strengthening our bonds, connections and allowing us all to grow to be the best that we can be.

I’ve always wanted to be a runner. And by always I mean for the last 20 years. In my head, it’s a beautiful thing. It’s like flying.

I avoided all physical activity growing up. Every excuse to avoid PE was given and as a result, my 20-year old self didn’t have the toolkit to build it up.

After we got married, I joined a gym and did classes and wanted to run…so I tried the “Couch 2 5K” program….multiple times. Eventually tabling the entire idea.

No one told me it was okay to walk.

No one told me it takes 6 weeks to see a “change.”

No one told me that you might have a great day one day and the next day might be your worst ever, but you have to show up, even just a little.

Or maybe they did, but I didn’t understand it. Not in the way you need to understand something for it to change you. Something fell into place this year and here I am, at (almost) 42, chasing that dream of being a runner.

Yesterday, I ran my first half marathon. I’m feeling a little defeated. My watch didn’t track properly, so my stats are off my two miles and whatever time that took. And it didn’t map my run.

I feel a bit like an imposter. Can I even say I did this? I expected to finish in 3 hours, but it was 3:05…but official time is 3:20. There were only 60 people of 1900 behind me. We walked close to the last 4 miles.

I always thought my biggest problem would be my feet, rubbing and blisters, but I’m happy to say my feet are in perfect shape!

My real challenges are:

• Needing to pee (this cost us 15 minutes and pushed us to the back of the pack away from the people we were keeping pace with)
• Sustaining energy (both during and after the race)
• Hydration (how can you be so thirsty and yet have to pee so bad at the same time?)

And so here is the stupid part…I’m so disappointed in my performance yesterday that I’m feeling the need to do it all over again to prove I can do better! Is this the real secret to running—that you are always competing with yourself?

Someone from my graduating class recently posted our class photo from 8th grade. My son is in 8th grade…time warp! I can’t find myself in the photo, maybe I’m not in it, but I do remember so many of the faces I see.

It’s funny what you remember about growing up. Let me set the stage…My parents still live in the house that we moved into when I was 3 (just a mere year older than Morgan is now). I latched to people and didn’t expand my friend based. I was quiet and most of the people I knew were either my neighbors or brought into my friend group by someone else. I was a good follower, but also not.

In 5th grade someone told me I had pizza face.

In 6th grade someone was so surprised when I said I weighed 130 pounds.

In 7th grade someone told me a should pierce my right nostril.

In 9th grade someone told me I had beautiful hands.

Notice a theme? I remember comments around my physical features. Maybe that’s all people said…but maybe it’s just what I heard.

A kid I went through school with commented on one of my social media posts a few weeks back with the comment…you were the smartest person I knew (again, what I heard, no an exact quote).

A co-worker of mine recently said I bring a positive energy to the group.

Another person said, you are a good person.

Guess what?! None of that has anything to do with my physical appearance. These are things of value.

Now back to that photo…those kids. We all had value. We all had positive things to add to the world. For a lot of us, we forgot to pay attention to those things and we forgot to share with others what we found valuable in them.

Another friend, one I’d distanced myself from in my own crazy awkwardness, continues to tell me I’m amazing. She said, “I’m going to keep telling you, because as humans we don’t say it enough and it’s true.” (My memory!! Not a direct quote!! Lol)

Go!! Tell people they are awesome! Tell people how they impact your life! And then, surround yourself with people who will tell you the same and push you to be even more awesome than you already are!!!

Two years. It’s been almost two years since I sat down and wrote. Maybe it’s on purpose…the forgotten year (or two), but I find myself being drawn back and missing the dreaded “quarantine” period.

Let’s rewind to set the stage. 2020 began with so much hope and joy in our lives. New baby, new job, kids doing well in school and loving ninja. And then the world stopped. We refer to it as Friday the 13th, because Friday March 13th was the last day of school. It was the day the world shut down for us. It was 10 days before my return from maternity leave and just days after I had finished redesigning my office into a space that was workable for work and a “homework” zone for the kids and project zone. It’s like I knew our lives were about to change.

Working from home and with the chaos of children is nothing new to me. What was new was teaching them (and Zach) how to work at home and making the spaces each of us needed to succeed and in reality, that was probably harder on them than it was on me.

I felt so blessed that as I was transitioning back to work, instead of finding a place for Morgan to be or someone to take care of her, we were all picking up the slack and raising her together. For the next three and a half months we were all home all the time.

I micro-blogged these days through Instagram. Everyday we tried to do something just a little special, we watching very little TV, but made great memories….and now I find myself missing it.

I miss the quiet of the highway.

I miss the quality time.

I miss playing games multiple times a week.

I miss Zach being home all the time.

I miss not having to rush anywhere.

I miss people being okay connecting via zoom or FaceTime.

I don’t know that I like people anymore. I don’t know that I want to hangout with others. Maybe I’m just out of practice…I look forward to seeing people. I want to plan things, but when I find myself leaving

I find myself in a funny little spot. 2020 was not bad for me. It had a lot of opportunities–like Zach’s “vacation” or the quarantine or covid–but it wasn’t, in fact it might be my most favorite year.

How do I transition back to the real world? My kids crave all the things they missed…they want to go to school, they want to be at ninja, they want to throw parties and do all the things. I want to be at home, with my kids, with my husband living the quarantine life.

The doctor found the heart on the ultrasound.  It didn’t move.  Over the last nine months, we’d listened and watched that heart beat often, to see it frozen in time was devastating. How did we make it this far for all to be lost?

Zach and I never said we are going to have this many children, but after Lynzie was born, we were content with our family.  Then got a surprise and were elated.  When we lost that baby (and almost me), we felt like we were missing someone…so we began a journey of having another baby.

This pregnancy was pretty easy.  I felt great and I didn’t feel like I looked that pregnant the whole time, probably due to how much extra weight I had on me to begin with, but we won’t dwell on that.  I only gained 17 pounds the whole pregnancy…which puts me now on the same weight loss plan as when I got pregnant.

In the third trimester, things started happening.  I still felt great, but they were things that made me more high risk that I was just because of my age.

1. I got Gestational Diabetes.  I’d done that before, so it was really no big deal for me, but it caused me to see a high risk practice for the rest of my pregnancy and document my sugars and send them in weekly.  Because of GD, by doc wanted to induce at 39 weeks.
2. I got high blood pressure.  This was something that is still a debate on if it was caused by the pregnancy or if it was pre-existing.  It landed we in the ER one day because my doctor made us go for monitoring.  In the end the determined it was pre-existing and we took a more relaxed approach to my care for the remaining weeks.  This made the doc want to induce at 38 weeks.
3. Baby Girl decided to be head down and then two weeks before delivery, she flipped herself to be breach again.  Then within the week, turned herself around again to face down.  Of course, a breach baby complicates delivery and my doctor is not a doctor that will deliver a breach baby.  So when we came in for the induction, we were instructed to have them double-check that she was still head down and if not we were prepped with possible outcomes.
4. Several times, Baby’s movements would really slow down, and I had to be monitored to ensure she was okay, once in the middle of the night at the ER.  In the end, I think it was due to low blood sugar and a super chill baby, because she was fine every time.

At 38 weeks, we were scheduled to go to the hospital at 9pm.  They would start me on a drug to soften my cervix and in the morning they would start pitocin to really get the contractions going.  We did this with Lynzie and and she came by 12:30 in the afternoon with the absolute perfect experience.  I had visualized this happening again for most of the pregnancy.  My baby would be born on December 4th.

We got everyone in the car to deposit at their various locations….Rogue to Grandma and Grandpa’s; Diego to the boarding place; the kids to a family friend.  As we made this trip, I was super uncomfortable…..something in the way the baby was sitting was just not right.   When we arrived at the hospital, they got me all hooked up and I told them that we needed an ultrasound to ensure baby was still head down.  They questioned me a bit, but I explained she’d been flipping back and forth for weeks and although she was head down five days ago, the doc wanted to confirm it before we moved forward.

It took about an hour before they rolled in with the ultrasound and…..she was spine down.  Her head was on my left, under the placenta, and her but was on the right.  The nurse said she was going to check with the on call doctor and determine what the plan was.  Thankfully, she somehow got a hold of my doctor, who put the induction on hold until 7am when they would check the baby again and try an inversion, but they also scheduled me for a c-section at noon.  All wires were pulled and I was left alone for the night to do yoga and walk and try to get the baby to flip herself again.

At 7 the doctor came in when one of her practice mates.  They had the ultrasound machine and checked on baby again.  Sure enough, she’d moved, but not in the direction we wanted.  She was now full breach, head in my ribs, feet down.  The doctor explained that they would try to turn her, they would give me a drug that would help relax my uterus and they would take their hands and physically pull/push her into the right position.  They assessed where the baby was and what they thought the best route was–pushing her counterclockwise away from the placenta.  My doc assured me we would know in 5-10 minutes if it was going to work out or if we’d have to go through the the c-section at noon.

Both the other kids came vaginally, so the idea of a c-section really stressed me out, but I as I told my nurse, I didn’t have a birth plan because setting expectations, only leads to disappointment in labor and delivery.  My only expectation is to walk away with a baby who is alive.  I know that sounds rather harsh, but after the miscarriage, and all the challenges I’ve seen and heard of others experiencing, I just wanted a baby in my arms screaming.

The drug started working and my doc dug her fingers into my belly, right around liver level and pulled the baby’s head downward and she MOVED.  The doctor was able to get her to my pelvis bone and then she got a little stuck.  The other doctor was on the other side of me and had a better position to pull the baby towards her, so she took over and success!  One step closer to not having a c-section, now baby just needed to stay down during labor and we’d be fine.

And then they brought the ultrasound over again to verify she was okay.  They saw her head down, but as I looked over to the screen, I saw a perfect heart…with no movement….and then a slow flutter….and then nothing.

What happened next was super fast, I remember bits and pieces and I’m sure it’s not all in order.   My doc wanted oxygen for me, then she wanted us in the OR to deliver this baby.  NICU was called….some code was called….my bed was pushed out of the room by the two doctors and across the hall to the OR.  Zach was left behind.

My friend had texted me a prayer early in the morning.  As I sat in the hallway, waiting for the doctors to get their sterile gear on, I went over the words and prayed everything would be okay.  Seconds later, as we crossed the threshold to the OR, my mind was stuck on the fact that my baby was gone and her name would always be hollow in our home.  They asked me if I could quickly get on to the OR table….since I hadn’t had any meds, it was very easy for me to get up on all fours and crawl across.

There were so many people in the OR….everyone talking to me….doing something to me.  It was hard to keep up with it all.   I watched the anesthesiologist draw up the meds to completely put me under.  If my baby came into the world this way, she would not be greeted by either of her parents, only a bunch of strangers.

My doctor had assured me as we moved to the OR, that this still might end in a vaginal birth.  They would monitor the baby and if she came back we wouldn’t need to do the c-section.  Thankfully, in the OR, they found her heartbeat again….it was low, but strong….and slowly came back up to where it was originally in the high 150 range.  After 10 minutes or so, it was determined that we weren’t going through with a c-section at this time, but would rather be going back to our room to begin the induction….just about 12 hours late.

Before I was moved back to my room, it was decided to get my epidural going so that if we needed to go back to the OR, I wouldn’t need to be put under.  I agreed with that, because I didn’t want my baby joining the world without parents, but I really wanted Zach.  I asked for him over and over and some one said, let’s make you presentable.  I remember thinking it was the most ridiculous thing….my husband can see me however you have me laid out….its the rest of everyone that I need to be presentable for.  LOL.

By the time we got back to my room, the kids had arrived.  They hung out with their Grandma in the cafeteria for a bit while I was checked….2 cm dilated.  And it was decided to skip the softening step and move straight to Pitocin.   I believe this was around 10am, but I’m not 100% sure.  The day was pretty boring….like really boring.  The kids went to lunch, we play a moving game of Uno Flip.  Everyone had to gather around my bed and move sides based on how I was forced to face, but really nothing happened all day.

Around 1:30pm, my water was broken, in an attempt to get her head down and engaged.  I cannot explain the amount of water that came out of me.  And I could feel every little move the baby made trying to get into position as more water would come out.  I’m pretty sure it was at least a gallon over the course of the afternoon and evening.

The kids went to ninja in the evening and we discussed a new plan for them.  Remember, in my head, I was having this baby in the middle of the day.  The kids wanted to be around for her birth (although not IN the room so they said), but we had a place for them to stay overnight.  Now that it was looking like baby was going to come in the night or the next morning, we needed someone to be at the hospital to be with the kids, but our options were limited.

My close friend was in the visiting with us while we were trying to puzzle this out and had said she would come back at 1am to 6am if we needed her.  So we asked Zach’s brother if he could take the now to 1am shift.  He said that was fine, but he was going to need to Uber.  Obviously, these two were willing to assist us, but if another option was available, it might be better.

My best friend had said she was going to stop by around 8-9pm.  She’s a night owl and always has been and can function on very little to no sleep better than anyone I know.  It was around 7pm, so Zach called her and explained the situation.  Next I knew, she was coming for the night, the others were let off the hook and Zach was getting dinner and coffee too!

We made up the couch for the kids and moved it to an area of the room so it wasn’t in the way if things went down.  We asked the kids if they were asleep if they wanted to stay in the room or be woken up and taken out of the room….they said they wanted to stay sleeping.  So we explained vaguely, that some scary things might be happening when they woke up and to just turn away and know it was going to be okay.

We talked to Susie about her options….she had the same as the kids….you can leave if it’s too much, turn away, or if you are really feeling up to it, you can pick up a camera and take a few photos (I mean she is my photographer…lol).

We started a movie, we tried to sleep.  The kids eventually went to sleep.  Susie and Zach traded places back and forth, one with the kids on the couch, the other in the reclining chair.  Zach tried to get sleep.  Susie made lesson plans (if she was in it for the long haul, she’d have to call a sub for the next day), watched the monitor and took in the birth experience.

I got very little sleep.  Turned out the baby wasn’t dealing well.  She wasn’t moving much and her heart rate would drop with each contractions, so the nurse moved me about every 15 minutes, put me on oxygen, took me off. At one point, I mentioned the baby might not be moving since I hadn’t eaten in 24 hours and my blood sugar was probably low.  They checked my sugars and I was at 69 which is just low enough to do something about it.  So they switched my hydrating IV to include sugar and it helped baby out for a bit.  They also let me have as many popsicles as I wanted.  It was so nice to have something besides ice…I honestly wasn’t hungry and had no interest in food, but I was thirsty and could have taken a nice glass of apple juice, so the diversion of the popsicle was a good one.

Throughout the labor, they didn’t check me often, so I never really knew how much progress we were making.  Mostly this was because we had broken my water and I was strep B positive.

Around 2am I was 5 cm.  Baby was still trying to move into the full head down position, she was still stuck around my hip bone and her crown was not down, but felt more like her forehead.

At 3:30am I told them things had changed and I wanted them to check me again….also, my epidural wasn’t working and I was in a TON of pain.  Back pain and lower abdominal, like period pains.  At this point I was 8cm…finally some progress!!!  I was also cussing and not overly happy about anything that was going on.  Finally, my nurse called the  anethesiologist in to give me something else to take the edge off.  The doc and nurse hung out with me for quite a while and then they left.  As soon as they walked out the door I felt an extreme urge to push….so I made Zach go get them again.

Around this time, Isaac stirred.  We reminded him what was going on and turned him to the wall.  He wasn’t really awake and quickly settled back to sleep.  When I was checked this time, I was 10cm and ready to go.

Earlier in the evening, my doctor, the one I’d seen most of the pregnancy and who had delivered both Isaac and Lynzie, left for the day and I was left with the only doctor in the practice I hadn’t seen this pregnancy, but the one I spent my entire third trimester with when I had Lynzie.  I love her and in the end, she was the best doctor to deliver this baby.

She came into the room so calm and soft spoken each time.  She understood my desire to see the baby in the mirror and talked to me through the whole thing in a calm, excitement for me and the baby.  She told me the baby was sunny side up (face up), which was why I’d been feeling it so much in my back.  And showed me the baby turning her head to go the correct way.  She kept checking in to make sure I could see.  She was seriously the best presence to have.

I’m pretty sure I pushed through four contractions over the course of about 15 minutes….but the first one was horrible….I wasn’t listening well and focused more on exhaling (which I wasn’t supposed to do) than pushing.  Then at the end, even after the contraction had passed, I felt I still needed to push, so I pushed after it ended and out she came at 4:36am…..

We named her Morgan Grace.  Both names from our very first name list from 11 years ago!

As soon as I was stitched up and covered, we woke the kids so they could meet their sister.  I think they were thinking….why the heck did we want to be woken up to be the first to meet her.  LOL.

I was so exhausted after being awake for 24 hours and all the scares along the way.  My body shut down and I had a really hard time staying alert.  It really made my nurse mad and the next few hours are quite the blur.

I do know that Susie took the kids out to breakfast and we moved rooms about the time they came back.  We were actually moved to the room I was put in when I had my blood transfusion two years ago when I had the first miscarriage.  What a great way to create good memories in a place that previously only held sadness.

April was a busy month.  It gave me anxiety just going into it because of all the trips and stuff to manage and then we added even more!

Originally, this is what we had on the schedule:

• Week long trip to Philly for Jenn
• Our 15th Anniversary
• Liz visiting for a concert at Red Rocks
• Sleepover at the zoo
• Week long trip to Chicago for Jenn

Then home for two weeks before we went on a 10 day family trip to the east coast!

To me this was a lot!!

And then Zach said….”hey Jenn….Victoria needs some help getting her stuff down to Arizona and asked if I could help.”

And then my Aunt said…”hey Jenn….we are cleaning out Grandpa’s house Easter weekend….do you think you guys can help out?”

And then the HOA said…”hey McCartys….your fencing solution is against the by-laws, get it fixed.”

And then my cousin said….”hey Jenn….We are coming down to help with Grandpa’s house.”

This is how April really looked:

• Road trip to AZ (3 days) with the family and visiting friends.
• Week long trip to Philly for Jenn
• Our 15th Anniversary
• Liz visiting for a concert at Red Rocks
• Sleepover at the zoo with Girl Scouts.
• Cousins staying the weekend at our house.
• Cleaning out Grandpa’s house and making Cinnamon Rolls.
• Week long trip to Chicago for Jenn
• Finishing the fence and gate we started 3 years ago.

Most of these deserve their own posts, but this post is about HOW much we could squeeze into April.  I’ll finish with this little story….

After a marathon trip to AZ and a day in Philly.  I took an Uber to the hotel my friends were staying at. Lois orders the best maragaritas, so she’s my absolute favorite to drink margarita’s with and this night was no different….they were the BEST!!!  We sat at the bar laughing, eating, drinking and playing music bingo.  It was a beautiful evening and we had so much fun.

As the night wore down, I started to think about how my period was supposed to have started the day before….and when we were driving home two days earlier from AZ, I thought it had…..but I hadn’t seen any additional signs since them.

So my drunk self, decided that I needed to go to Target to get a pregnancy test on my way back to my hotel.  This Target was strange….two stories….one entrance on the top front and one entrance on the bottom back of the building.  In any case, I wandered around lost for a long while.  Then I tried to get a new Uber, but they went to FedEx and when he called me and I told him I was at Target, he wanted me to tell him how to get there, but I had no clue where FedEx was.  So I asked him to cancel it (and was charged for it and probably got a bad rating) and requested a new Uber, who showed up a few minutes later.

Now, as we drive back to my hotel, let me tell you a few things….

1. We had two miscarriages over the last two years.
2. We only had sex once in the last six weeks.
3. We were trying not to get pregnant this month so we could go on the cruise to Cuba we had booked.
4. Zach and I made a deal before we got pregnant with Isaac, that I’d never take a pregnancy test without discussing with him first and with him being there.

I picked up my phone to call Zach and the kids as they were going to bed.  I chatted through the car ride, up to my room, where I immediately opened the box and peed on the stick.  Within a minute it had a very faint positive line.

The kids were getting restless and it was past bedtime, so I told them to go to bed and asked Zach to Facetime me real quick.  And then I showed him the stick.

Now you have to remember….I’m drunk….Zach’s exhausted, but damn…the smile on my face….it wouldn’t go away! LOL.

Turns out I accidentally bought a 3 pack of tests.  Which worked out perfectly to do a test each morning for the rest of my trip, all of which came back positive.  I spent the next day trying to get a hold of my doctor and get them to call in the progesterone prescription I needed to start on “as soon as I got a positive pregnancy test.”

Funny thing….when I flew to Philly somehow I got to skip the x-ray machine.  So rather than take any chances, on the way home (and all the rest of my flying trips this pregnancy, I’ve opted out, which means a really nice pat down).  I’ve also skipped the alcoholic beverages, so I’m really glad my last were such amazing margarita’s.

In addition to the list above, we also squeezed in a first ultra sound before our trip our East.  My previous two miscarriages had put me on edge.  We didn’t tell the kids until we saw that heartbeat on the first ultrasound.  What a relief!

Here we are at 25 weeks…15 more to go!!!

I’ve started this post so many times. I want it to be witty. I want it to be wise. I want it to be well-written. But I don’t know how many of these things can come to be.

I used to write daily. I used to read a variety of things. These allowed my writing to grow and evolve. Then I had a kid and I still wrote. Then that kid got older and I had another and that’s where things kind of slid of course.

Ah..right…back to the story. At the end of 2017 I had a miscarriage. Six months later, I had another, in the middle of a family vacation and amidst one of the most stressful times at my husbands job. This challenges in the middle of 2018 I kept close to me, only one or two people know about the second miscarriage. Not the kids. Not my family. Not Zach’s family. Just a very few select friends…like two.

I withdrew. I ate a lot. I lost a close, close friend due to my inability to put forth effort. I cried…a lot. I decided milkshakes every day are how you cope with depression. We traveled a lot. Because, that is also what you do when you are depressed–run away.

I realized we were just losing time. My kids were bored. I was depressed and becoming lazier by the day. I decided things needed to change. I offered the kids “after school” activities. Determined that if I was committed to something, at least the kids would do more than nothing. We made a list and they were able to prioritize two things.

Isaac:

1. Parkour
2. Swimming

Lynzie:

1. Swimming
2. Gymnastics

I told Isaac, “The city no longer teaches parkour, so that isn’t going to happen.” A few days later, Facebook told me about an American Ninja Warrior gym that was offering free lessons. Okay. I’ll bite. And somehow, two weeks later, we had a six month family membership!

We live at the gym. Partially because the kids love it, but in large part because it’s my happy place. It has brought me light in my darkness. A place to be encouraged. I place to watch my kids grow. A place to get away from work. A place to be loved on. A place to just be me. And really, at the end of the day, isn’t that what we all what?

Someday, maybe, I’ll be a ninja with my kids. Is that my focus? No. My focus is to be happy. I walk. I watch. Sometimes I hang. I talk. I smile. I cheer. I laugh. Sometimes I cry…but not sad tears. Not tears of pain and sorrow, but of joy, life and belonging.