Our Battle with Infertility: Year 2


If you’re following up from the last two weeks, welcome back. If you’re new on this post, welcome into the inner recesses of our marriage and family planning. To catch up, you can visit our Infertility page.Sorry if this is TMI. If you’re dealing with infertility, please please please let us know if there’s anything we can do to help and…we hope this helps you, too. 🙂

In our last post, we recounted summer of 2011 to summer of 2012…that was the year of tracking, basically. We couldn’t really do anything because we hadn’t been trying “long enough”. To hear that is so disheartening, especially when you feel like something may be wrong. I felt like something may be wrong. In fact, I felt that way before we ever started trying. When we were first married, I knew we couldn’t financially handle kids and life and everything. We thought we might move shortly into our marriage and it just seemed like waiting was the right idea. All along I was worried, though, that when we were ready to try, it wouldn’t work. Being right about this really really really sucks.

Typically, I see a nurse practitioner at my OB/GYN because my favorite doctor EVER left a few years ago to stay home with her kids. I have never had any issue with the nurse practitioner and they have a great staff, but in the summer of 2012, we needed to see the doctor. The doctor started to test for EVERYTHING. We had day 3 labs (to make sure my cycle was OK), day 21 labs (to make sure I ovulate properly), more cycle tracking (joy.), and we scheduled a semen analysis for Chris and a test called an HSG for me. Sidenote: Getting bloodwork done on vacation because that is when your cycle lines up is REALLY annoying and WAY more money than we anticipated. Nothing says relaxing beach day like hanging out at the medical center getting blood drawn. Some of my cycles (as I noted in last week’s post) were a little off, but ovulation seemed normal and my bloodwork was A-OK. Chris’ analysis came back and was pretty good as well. At first, my doctor’s office told me he had abnormal numbers, but later we found out that “abnormal numbers” means “one level might have been ‘off'” and that one level can be affected by external sources (heat, time, etc) so it wasn’t really anything that should be affecting us long-term. Looking back, this is awesome. At the time, it was terrifying (and painful for my sweet husband).

HSG stands for Hysterosalpingogram. Basically, you go to the doctor (between your cycle dates and ovulation, I believe) and they insert a catheter that will release dye into your whole lady-system. You can watch it on a screen so, that was entertaining. They basically do this x-ray while you stare at the monitor showing your uterus and fallopian tubes. The intent of HSG is to check and make sure your tubes are working properly. Well, the dye SHOT through the tubes. I mean, it SHOT through there. That is totally normal, but, wait- THAT IS TOTALLY NORMAL. At this point, we were in to September 2012. Translation: I was missing school for this. We have definitely maintained the mindset that growing our family is more important than a job, but the 2012-13 school year was a year where I took more leave than ever before. (Foreshadowing: 2013-14 has been even worse, in terms of leave.)

We tried to stay really focused on the process in 2012, but it was so difficult with work and everything else. On top of that, going to a regular OB/GYN’s office can be *really* frustrating. For one, I couldn’t take off all of the time just because my cycle said so. For two, they can only work regular doctor’s hours (unlike fertility specialists). For three, they TRULY are fabulous, but didn’t seem to understand that my life runs on a TEACHER’S SCHEDULE. No, I cannot come get 10 minute blood work on my “lunch break”. What is a lunch break?!

Chris got two analyses during this year. They both had strong numbers in some ways and weak numbers in others. When you’re getting a semen analysis, you want good a) count [duh], b) motility [that they’re movin’ and shakin’], and c) morphology [that they look like tadpoles]. He went to see a urologist (super nice guy!) who said that he really didn’t feel like there was any reason that his numbers should be keeping us from getting pregnant. Great, right?!





Fall 2012- proof that we’re normal and not just crying about being infertile all the time. But, look at those people. Won’t they make CUTE babies?!

Next week, I’ll be talking about the second half of 2013. This was the time when we really started making moves and tried (as much as possible) to stop leaving things to chance. (You might even get to see pictures of my pee! Lucky you!) Obviously, we’re not very close to a due date so, some things didn’t work. However, that brings us almost to now and we have more answers than ever before. No, we’re not pregnant at this moment in case you thought that was our cryptic way of telling you.

Emotionally speaking, my breaking point in the process (meaning, when I almost broke someone) was when my nurse practitioner (bless her) said, “Sometimes these things take a while,” at my October 2012 yearly checkup. I wanted to harm her. Don’t get me wrong, people are SO well-meaning and they just.don’t.know.what.to.say. BUT, sometimes it’s better to say, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say.” Write that down. Then, if anyone ever tells you they’re dealing with this and you’re out of your depth, say it. And, read this. Don’t say these things. It will save you from a mental or physical punch to the face. 🙂 If you’re STILL unsure, google “things not to say” and “infertility” in the same search. Many brave women have opened up about this…and I promise none of them will want to hurt you. 🙂

Also, there’s a great post written by a *husband* no less, at this link about ten words that describe infertility. I have thought this over many times and could probably add a few, but he just says it SO well. For me, it’s #10 on his list. That has been my station in life for the past 8 months or so. Heart-wrenching ambivalence. We know that anything that has been said has been meant to be supportive, but if you’ve struggled with infertility, MANY of these will ring true and you will want to high five this man! 🙂 And this man, he says beautiful things about a situation that is not so beautiful. Thank God for good husbands in the world. Mine is practically a saint (even my students tell me so) for putting up with my crazy throughout this whole journey.

Thanks so much to all of our friends and family. So many of you have reached out since we started blogging this journey and we are truly grateful. We’re still not really up for giving up to date information. The timing of everything is still too sensitive for us to feel the pressure of keeping so many people informed. We love you (even you readers we don’t know) and appreciate your prayers and happy thoughts as always. Thank you SO much for sticking with us on this crazy ride!


Our Battle With Infertility: Year 1


**So, I know that we brought it up on facebook, but people really have blown us away with support since we opened up about our ongoing battle. We have received texts, facebook messages, “likes”, comments, conversations in person, hugs (well, less hugs because I’m not a BIG hugger), etc. It has been overwhelming and beautiful and phenomenal and, did I mention overwhelming?! We could never have imagined how many people have shared our struggle, felt our pain, been concerned for us, and just plain reached out. That being said, your support definitely encourages us to continue sharing. Again, PLEASE share this with anyone, but especially those you know who are struggling with this. They may be ahead of us in the process, or just starting out, but we are always open to suggestions and second opinions! We are also more than willing to answer questions for anyone just starting out on this journey. And please, don’t feel that your story isn’t “as difficult” or “as painful” as ours (we’ve had some people apologize) because anyone suffering from this knows that it’s not just about whether you’re struggling to have your first or your fifth, when you feel like you are supposed to be a parent and you can’t be one, something feels broken. We are always here to empathize and listen. This post may be offensive or hurtful or painful for you to read. I am SO sorry. It is about documenting where we were at this point in the journey. We are not necessarily in the same place now. We just have to be honest and authentic to our journey.**

To read Part 1 of Our Battle With Infertility, click here.

We left off in the summer of 2011 with a huge yearning in our hearts for babies and nowhere to go, but being a family! Little did we know, this was the beginning of a still-continuing journey. Get excited, guys! This is the post where start posting intimate details and pictures of my cycle charts. In future installments there will be awkward pictures and talk of bodily functions- TO THE MAX! Woo! Infertility!

The time from the summer of 2011-2012 or “The First Year”, as I like to call it, was pretty simple. I started tracking my temperature daily (to try to predict ovulation) and we tried to “time” intercourse. I feel like “timed intercourse” always means we have a stopwatch out, but –and there are people who DO NOT KNOW THIS– since you can really only get pregnant a few days a month, it’s important to time it correctly.

This has been a great source of bitterness for me and if you are struggling, it may be frustrating for you, too. SO MANY PEOPLE have gotten pregnant in the last 3 years and have just not known “how this happens”. #1- I can tell you how. A 15 year-old in family life can tell you *how*. Now, I know that’s not what people mean and I know that the surprise/shock of an “accidental” pregnancy is probably terrifying (I am one who likes a plan, after all!), but SERIOUSLY- only a VERY FEW days a month. #2- If you’re anywhere near “regular”, ladies, it’s almost completely predictable. I don’t say ANY of that to offend anyone who has had a surprise. You are SO lucky (and I’m sure that sweet baby smiling back at you lets you know that daily)! However, now that you’ve felt the mama tug and the amazing sensations and experiences of pregnancy, I’m sure you can’t imagine ever going back. Just keep praying for those of us who so badly want to be where you are. 🙂  Please don’t feel angry at the bitterness of those dealing with infertility. Feeling your body NOT work the way it is “supposed” to, CREATED to, for that matter and then seeing those who didn’t even plan it at the time…it kills. You feel that if they weren’t planning it then they didn’t want it and when you want it SO badly it just…suck. It just sucks. I don’t know how to put it. Sometimes not being happy for others is unfortunately part of this journey. Please believe me and grant me grace when I tell you that I still pray DAILY for the grace/mercy/strength to be happy for every other pregnant person I know/see. Honestly, sometimes it’s the random girl at Panera that just makes me want to cry. It’s so irrational. From what I hear though, there are irrational things in motherhood, too. Maybe I’m getting good practice? 🙂

If you are struggling with infertility, you likely have an app. I have found that the Fertility Friend app is super easy-to-use and tracks all of the information you need. There have been MANY months where I was just ridiculously bitter and could NOT care about tracking, but we’ll get there in a minute.

Well, we were hopeful that year. In the fall, October to be exact, I had a 40 day cycle. I also developed an aversion to meat. It was terrifying. I started eating dinner one night and just gagged and ran upstairs. I barfed multiple times that month. It was disgusting. Because of the stomach thing (I’m assuming), my sense of smell was also RIDICULOUS. Like, DO NOT MICROWAVE ANYTHING STRONG-SMELLING IN THE TEACHER’S LOUNGE! I just…didn’t eat. A lot. I flew to Vegas for my college roommate’s wedding and talked about it with the girls and there was SO MUCH HOPE in that elevator, y’all. Also, who doesn’t drink in Vegas? This girl. When she is already late.

This is what I look like when I’m up early in the morning and feeling nauseous for (literally) no reason, thought I didn’t know this at the time. If you ever get married in Vegas…pay someone to do my makeup. Clearly, I am a hot dang mess. That. Lazy. Eye. And. Huge. Zit. #classy


So, this is what our app looked like for that cycle (soon after we started tracking):

image (1)

Sept 2011 Calendar

Sidenote: I will eat ALL THE TINY CAKE, even with an aversion to meat. Chocolate cake is not meat. Chocolate cake is delicious. #classier


I was obviously not pregnant. Nor was I pregnant that February when I had another almost 40-day cycle.

Feb 2012 Chart

February 2012 calendar

Nor have I been pregnant every October/February since then when I’ve had an extra-long cycle. It’s been fun. Now, if you’re a guy reading this, you’re probably thinking, “Gross. Also, aren’t some women always crazy with the periods?” Two things: No. And, not me. I have been 100% regular for 15 years. Sure, I took birth control which contributes to regularity, but there were significant periods of time where I was not on any kind of hormone and EVERY. TIME. I was like clock work, down to the day of the week. Oh right, until this time when I’m ACTUALLY TRYING TO HAVE A CHILD?!!?!?!! Of course my cycle is now insane-in-the-membrane. Literally-hah! (Ew, too far.)

Even more frustrating, there were MANY months where we did EVERYTHING “right”. If you look at our charts, it’s not as easy to see on the calendars, and a few more charts will follow, you can see that there is a “t” made over certain dates in red lines. That means it’s the day where you most likely ovulated. The symbols on the charts for MANY of those months indicate that we DID EVERYTHING AT THE RIGHT TIME. This is when you get frustrated. On the other months? The ones with no red line? The ones with no little symbols mean we’ve been having sex on the right day? Ya know, when life gets in the way on the ONE day where you need life to leave you alone, or when you start a new workout the week before and you can’t move, let alone…ya know. or when you get sick. GOD FORBID YOU GET SICK AND YOU CANNOT DO EXACTLY WHAT YOU NEED WHEN YOU NEED TO DO IT. Well, then you don’t get a baby. Exhibits E, F, G, and H:

March 2012 calendar

May 2012 calendar

June 2012 Chart

June 2012 Calendar

You may or may not know that doctors will also not help until you have been trying for at least ONE YEAR. ^That calendar marks one year! When you’re trying (unsuccessfully) to have a baby, one year might as well be one million years. Trust and believe that I knew approximately 39823897429837 pregnant people in that year, too. I am consistently the person in ANY group of friends who knows the most pregnant people. It’s weird. I draw them to me or something. That being said, 9 out of 10 times I am SO OKAY WITH IT. People who are infertile don’t hate babies. We WANT babies. Snuggling their babies may be hard, but THEY JUST SMELL SO GOOD. RIGHT?!

All this basically means is…the first year sucks. There is LITERALLY nowhere you can turn for ideas/support besides the internet. And geez, that is like searching WebMD when you have a cough and thinking you have esophageal cancer. But, we did everything. Have I ever told you all that my husband lost FIFTY POUNDS after we got married?! FIFTY POUNDS, PEOPLE.

Husband circa 2010 (right after our wedding):


Husband, circa 2011, less than 10 months after the above photo (what a fox, right?!):


This was right before we read that being active helps. It was a happy coincidence, but we were SO sure we were doing everything right! You know the worst part? We were.

Over the course of the next few weeks, we’ll keep sharing. 2012-2013 was a big year in terms of progress! (No, we’re not pregnant.) You’re more than welcome to share or stop reading. We completely understand if you don’t feel right getting in our business, BUT in the case that this EVER affects anyone and we can help…we will. SO many people have misunderstood our course of treatment or what the acronyms mean that we feel obligated to share–even the weird/gross stuff. Thanks for sticking with us and, if you’re praying for us, hopefully this will continue to give you some insight to help you figure out where our heads and hearts are. 🙂 Thanks again.


Chris & Jessica

To read the next chapter of our journey, click here.

Our Battle With Infertility: Back to the Beginning

Hey, friends! I realize that I haven’t posted since…August? There may not be any of you out there anymore. If that is the case, I deserve it. Luckily (?), today’s post is as much for me as it is for you.

Chris and I (and typically, our budget) love DIY projects and making our house a home a little bit at a time. Don’t worry, if you are friends or family of ours who haven’t gotten to visit lately, we have more projects in the works than we did for ALL of 2013. Some of them will be posted very soon and we hope you will feel the virtual welcome we extend for you to come on in and make yourselves at home.

I, however, have always been an open book…except about this one big thing. Besides Jesus and Chris, this one big thing is the most important thing to me (us) and I’ve finally just gotten tired of keeping quiet about it. So, Chris and I have finally decided to break our silence and address the elephant that is literally living in the room with us at. all. times.

Backstory: I was married before. Chris was engaged and a month out of a wedding, also. We were both young and, of course, had a “5-year plan” with our previous significant others. In my plan, I got married in 2008 and we were going to start trying for babies in 2009. I have literally wanted to be a mom for as long as I can remember. When I was born, my mom wanted to include “Danielle” or “Heather” in my name (hello 80s!) but my dad wasn’t feeling it. When I found that out, I hypothesized (at like, age 8, mind you) that I would have boy/girl twins with the names Heather Danielle and Daniel Harrison. Those poor children, haha. As time went on, my future-family-fantasy grew to include another boy and another girl. I wanted 4 kids. I grew up in a house by myself (sibling-wise). I really wanted a big family and I didn’t want an odd number, partly because I’m OCD and partly because I didn’t want anyone suffering from middle-child syndrome. I became a teacher. I practically adopted some of my students. I became personal friends with families. I got divorced. My 5-year plan came CRASHING down, to say the least. Lowest of my lows, by far.

Then, I decided I didn’t want kids. I didn’t want a husband. My divorce was God’s way of telling me that I was a terrible wife and that I shouldn’t make plans and that all of my plans were crap. It was a dark day. Then, Chris and I hung out. It was a very different feeling from before. He had moved to a different city and we didn’t see each other or talk very frequently. Then, all of a sudden, he came back to visit and everything was…weird. I talked to him about my feelings of failure (I mean, he’s a minister, that’s his job, right?) and he talked to me about how he had felt that way after the deterioration of his engagement. His relationship had been 7 years long and they had grown up together and planned to grow old together. I met him for the first time a little over a year after the end of his relationship and his pain was still evident back then. We continued to talk and realized we had feelings and that maybe, just maybe, God really did want us to be someone’s spouse, maybe even each other’s. Thanks, God. We decided that making all of those plans hadn’t helped us before so we would try to just be married for a little while. Chris was working part-time at a church over an hour away and trying to have kids just seemed like too much…but God had brought us this far in relationships and after being friends for 6 years…so we had PLENTY of time for a family.

Engagement Photo

This is from our engagement shoot by the lovely Rachel May Photography. *Finally* we found where we belong. 🙂

In June of 2011 I caught wind of a rumor that my friend from work was pregnant. She wasn’t making a “big announcement”, but was OK with it being public knowledge so, I went and asked her if it was true. Then, I cried. (She is a really great mom.) I left work that day and I KEPT CRYING. If you know me personally, at all, you know this is strange. 1) I hate to cry. 2) It was a Wednesday and we had church, but I could not get it together. I believe I actually went to eat dinner at church and then went home and cried some more. Honestly, I had NO idea why I was crying. I prayed and cried and prayed and cried and realized that this friend of mine wasn’t planning on being pregnant, but she was. It made me realize that I REALLY wanted kids and I didn’t want to wait. I wasn’t mad at her. In fact, I went and bought that baby some onesies right that second because I knew she would be the most precious little baby ever. She is gorgeous, by the way. But it made me realize that I have this amazing husband and we know we eventually want a family so why would we NOT want whatever God was trying to bring us, even if it was soon and scary and our finances weren’t 100% stable. I think that some part of me had a tiny intuition that we might not get pregnant right away (probably best described as paranoia) so, maybe we should start sooner so we have time to iron out any wrinkles, right? Weird analogy, but accurate for how I felt at the time.

Chris came home from church that night and we talked about it extensively. I cried some more because I was just so caught off guard at my jealousy that someone was accidentally pregnant and I wasn’t. I mean, duh, of course I wasn’t. I was trying NOT to be pregnant and doing a darn good job of preventing it! Even in my first marriage, I was working NOT to get pregnant the whole time because we HAD. A. PLAN! Well, Chris and I realized that kids were what we wanted, even if it was sooner than we had originally thought we would. I mean, he’s a youth minister and I’m an elementary school teacher. It’s not exactly a secret that we love kids. I knew he would be a fabulous father and I could not WAIT to see him in that role. We decided that since I was supposed to start new birth control in the middle of June (during the last week of school) it would be perfect timing to discontinue the b.c. and start trying that next month. We were totally aware that it takes time for hormones to work out of the system, but we knew there was an app for that (haha- seriously!) so I started taking my temperature and monitoring all of my fluids (gross, but true) and we started to try to figure out WHEN we could possibly get pregnant. It was SO exciting for us! We couldn’t believe that God had overwhelmed me with that crazy jealousy and made me realize how badly I wanted a baby. [Sidenote: The jealousy did NOT negatively affect my friendship. I love my mom-friend, even more now, and her baby girl is so. freaking. precious. I love knowing their family and she is 100% supportive of me/us. She actually felt sad when I told her- just this fall- that I cried the day I found out she was pregnant because it made me realize I wanted babies, too. She’s awesome.]

So, we embarked on our little journey of trying to go from a family of 2 to a family of 3. As you may well have realized by now, that was 31 months ago, but who’s counting? We are. We didn’t know it at the time, but June of 2011 began our journey battle with infertility.

Us- Photobooth-September 2011

This is us in the fall of 2011, not too long after we started trying. I mean, who wouldn’t want these folks as parents, am I right?!

You may not understand why I started writing about this. If that’s the case, you surely won’t understand why I write the posts to come. During this whole journey, until relatively recently, we have felt VERY alone in this. It’s not the fault of any of our family or friends. Infertility comes with a LOT of shame. We decided to start writing about it because I truly believe that someone out there is googling this and there just aren’t a lot of resources that make you feel much better. I’m hoping that this sheds some light, answers some questions, or just lets someone out there know they’re not alone. There will be more to come, some with personal details. All we ask is that, if you comment, you comment politely. If you’re related to us or consider us close friends and you don’t know MANY of the details of our journey, don’t feel hurt or offended, please. For one thing, we can’t really juggle anyone else’s feelings. For two, it is NOT personal. It is hard for us. It is scary. Sometimes, it’s too much to verbalize. Writing it down, I hope, will help us AND someone else.

To those of you who do know and have been supporting us, thanks. If you’ve been praying for us, thanks for that, too. Keep ’em coming! 🙂 I promise we will be back with house updates soon, but, we will also be filling you in on our story of the last 31 months. AND last, but not least, if you or someone you know is battling with infertility, there are great blogs that make you feel less alone. One fabulous blog friend I’ve gotten to know is Bethany from Sawdust & Embryos. Her story keeps that light glowing at the end of the tunnel. 🙂

To read about the first year of our battle, click here.

To read about year 2, click here.

Engagement-aversary: The day I screwed up all of my husband’s plans

OK so, after posting this morning about the gallery wall, I wasn’t going to post this. Then, I wrote a status about how I hi-jacked his proposal and people (including my sister- how have I not told this story to my whole family?!) asked for the story…and THEN, the episode of Friends was on where Phoebe and Mike get engaged and she botches it, like THREE TIMES. It was a sign from God, I think…so here it is. Our WHOLE story is really long and would take 1405938 posts (OK, I make up numbers like Claire from Modern Family…but still). Has anyone seen that one? I couldn’t get a link that worked…but Claire makes up numbers to confuse Cam, like…”Eleventy-four”. Oh man, it makes me laugh. Sorry if I’m the only one laughing.

Three years ago, August 8, 2010, my husband and I got engaged. He tried to propose in like, 3 different places. I screwed them all up. Welcome to our life. He’s romantic, I screw it up. We laugh about it later, much later in this case.

Chris and I had talked about engagement, but we’d only been together for about 7 months…so I didn’t really know what we were going to do. I also really wanted a fall wedding if/when I got married again…and it was already August. So it was like “dribble or shoot” time if we even hoped to get married that fall. We had like, weeks. We had talked a LOT about the fact that we had both been engaged before and, in his case, he proposed on a freezing cold, wet, January night and I was at the beach for my first proposal, but there was no get-on-one-knee-pop-the-question, it was written on a piece of paper. Both were very thoughtful, but neither was ideal. We were SURE *our* proposal would be idyllic. Hah. Hahahahahahaha. So dumb we were.

Chris actually met with my parents to talk about proposing and they planned to meet at a Panera in Richmond (where he lived). Funny thing, both he AND MY MOM called me and asked me for directions to Panera. What?! Seriously, guys, get it together! My stepdad thought it was really funny when I called them both out on it later.

So, at the time, Chris worked in Richmond so I would go to church with him every Sunday and we would drive back on Sunday afternoons to squeeze in a little more hanging out time before I started my work week. This particular Sunday, we drove back and went to Moe’s to eat with our friend/former roommate, Jess and her awesome sister, Steph. After Moe’s, Chris asked if I wanted to go to a new ice cream place that we’d seen all summer and thought about visiting. Unfortunately, sometimes Moe’s jacks up my stomach (and Jess is lactose-intolerant) so I was like, “No, let’s not get ice cream. Let’s come back out later and go take a Sunday NAP!” [Botch #1]

We took a nap (it was AWESOME) and then Chris asked if I wanted to go to one of our favorite places in Newport News, the Mariner’s Museum Park & Lion’s Bridge. [He actually wanted to go to “our place” at the Newport News Park and realized we didn’t have time because I overslept.- Botch #2] Lion’s Bridge has an AWESOME sunset and we used to go on walks there. We were all ready to leave when the phone rang. It was my best friend in Seattle, Chau (pronounced Cho). Well, we talked for…hours. Literally, probably 2 hours. By that time, sundown had occurred. Chris started acting squirrelly. [Botch #3]

Finally, we were sitting on the couch watching TV around 8? or 9? and he was being really awkward and I got super annoyed. He jumped up off the couch, walked into the kitchen, and got some water. I was *super* annoyed. Like, what on EARTH was he doing being SO weird?! He walked in and he got REALLY serious. Anyone who has met Chris knows that he doesn’t really *get* serious. He sat down next to me, muted (or turned off?) the TV, turned to me, and went off on a whole shpiel (shpeal? shpeel?) about how much he loved me. I don’t handle compliments well, so I got really awkward. REALLY awkward. He opened his hand, said some more mushy stuff about how much he loves me and wants to spend the rest of his life with me, and then asked me to marry him! It was precious, but I *REALLY* screwed it up. I mean, two proposals and never a knee?! Sheesh. I did botch our proposal EVEN further though. We had joked since I forced him to watch we watched Love, Actually about how I would answer like Aurelia, the Portuguese girl who learns English for Colin Firth (would someone NOT learn English for Colin Firth?!) who says, “Yes is being my answer”. Isn’t that the cutest?

Well, I got flustered listening to his compliments, realized that he was actually trying to propose 3 (THREE?!) different times that day, felt like an arse (to quote the British- get at me, Colin Firth?!), and hugged him. I backed up, went to pick up the ring he held in his palm, and he said, “Uhhh, you didn’t actually answer me…” WHAT?! Sheesh. I’m the WORST.

Knees, pretty locations, “planned” answers…all of those were great in our planning stage…but we have a pretty funny story and it REALLY suits our (way too long for today) story of mishaps that eventually led us together. Thank God this man has the patience of a saint and he stuck with me through an awful day. I might’ve been superstitious, thought it was a sign, and panicked. Thank God for him. Three years later, I’ve never regretted a single day, only wished for more. I love you, baby! 🙂

Engagement PhotoProbably my favorite engagement photo, courtesy of the lovely Rachel May. Can you believe my sweet husband has lost like, 40-50 lbs since these photos?!


aaaaand, last but not least…

Engagement Records

Thanks for reading our story! 🙂

passing the time

I alternate between two extremes: busy and lazy. I hate being busy. I love being busy. I’m going to sound REALLY bipolar in this. I just, I love to keep busy because I feel super unproductive when I’m not busy…hence, the lazy. Seriously though, if I’m not busy (the month of July), I get nothing done. Nothing. At. All. So, I wondered how I pass the time tonight. I mean, typically it’s in to-do lists, report card deadlines, meetings, 100th days of school, hours on the clock. Then, I realized (through a long system of tangents in my not-so-sane mind) that it’s a lot of weird little things that represent “times” to me. 

Nothing in this post is particularly important. Everything in this post is particularly important. What I mean is, the conversation tonight wasn’t abnormal, but it did start me thinking of how we pass time. My husband said something to me and I thought of how weird it was. Anyway, let me start at the beginning.

He agreed to go get me a milkshake tonight. I have been on a serious milkshake kick. I mean, we’re talking I crave milkshakes 3 times a week. I don’t usually want dessert, but cookies and cream milkshakes are my jam right now. On the way to get milkshakes, I felt that awkward feeling.  You know, the one where someone’s staring. Well, it was my creepster husband. 

Me: What?
Husband: Nothing.
Me: What?
Husband: I just like your face. 
Me: (thinking, “That’s gross. I have no makeup on and didn’t shower today.) Is that all?
Husband: Yeah.
Me: How much? 
Husband: A lot. 
–I’m too much of a jerk to accept this answer.–
Me: How much?
Husband: I like your face more than anything else in the world.
Me: Like what? (I know, right? Don’t you wish you were married to someone as obnoxious as me?)
Husband: I like your face more than…I like to cook. 
Me: …oh… That really is a lot. 

Seriously. SO much. Thanks, honey. Now, the moral of this story is NOT how great my husband is, but that is an added bonus. It’s just, I feel like we don’t hang on to these things. We went to a restaurant/bar last night with some friends and talked about the road changes over time. He asked me if I was here when a cut-through was made. I have no idea whether or not it was here when I moved here. Then I realized how many things like this little conversation I’ve forgotten. For example, I’ve been here 8 years this August (weird) and I’m sure I went to multiple movies, restaurants, etc with people from college, but I just don’t remember. Maybe that’s no big deal. Some people probably think, “If it were that important, you’d remember.” Two things, though: #1- I’m a rememberer. Ask anyone. I remember things. #2- Were they not important? If I chose to go with random freshman year students A-F, wasn’t it important, at least at the time? Isn’t it, then, a little sad that I can’t remember anything significant from those times? Maybe not. Maybe it doesn’t matter. I just worry that these day-to-day things will go the way of the random college movie outing.  

We’re at a place in the month where I wonder if we have money for two milkshakes this close to pay day. So, while in line, he said to me, “We finished another roll of quarters.” My husband and I are saving change. We had a yard sale in April and started saving all of the change we had left over. We spent a night earlier this month rolling quarters and figuring out how many of each type of coin we need to finish an additional roll. We ended up with 40 bucks, I think. 30 of it goes to our savings to make it an even number (because I’m insane). The purpose for the remainder is TBD. Today, it may be to buy milkshakes. I’m not really sure where we conjured the cash for them. They were worth it, in case you were wondering. So. Worth it. Anyhow, I thought of how we hadn’t finished a roll in a while. It made me realize that today marked some kind of an ending: the end of another roll of quarters. I don’t know that it matters. It certainly isn’t a worldwide event. I just remember when we started saving change we had about 4 quarters, 10 dimes, 12 nickels, and 542938 pennies. So, in a way, it showed me that time was moving on. Things are progressing. One day we’ll put these quarters in a piggy bank, a college fund, a candy machine. Today, our quarters are for us. Hopefully by the time we’re putting them in piggy banks, we won’t need them for the savings account. 

As I said, this gave my brain enough material for a tangent. It doesn’t take much. The biggest memory I have of rolling coins is from when I was a kid (late elementary-early middle school-ish) and we were preparing for a trip to the beach (best time of every year). We had a huge glass jar from the Williamsburg Pottery that my mom had as a kid. The jar was later tapped with a vacuum for the millionth time, where it split and cracked. RIP, jar. Anyway, my mom, stepdad, and myself were rolling coins and we ended up paying for, like, the whole trip with these dang coins. It was so cool. I was so proud that I could fold the ends to keep the coins from falling out. It’s the little things. Right? I’m pretty sure we did this multiple times, but for some reason, rolling coins brings a happy feeling every time. Then I smell my hands, throw up in my mouth, and remember how gross money is. On with the tangent! I remember that rolling coins is one of two supremely happy things I remember from hanging out on Mom & Steve’s bed as a kid. The second? Tickle fights. I don’t know about you guys, but Saturdays are either super lazy or super busy (are you sensing a theme in my life?). Some Saturdays, I woke up first. My husband is blown away by that sentence. I’m a great sleeper. I would go into my parents’ room and see if they were awake. This typically ended up in some crazy tickle-fest when I was in elementary school. We’d end up ticking until a) we all ended up in tears, or b) someone got so annoyed that we had to stop. I’m not sure which actually happened more frequently. All three of us have pretty intense personalities, it could go either way. Somewhere along the line, I ended up being the late sleeper, tickling (and being tickled by) your parents stopped being fun, and my family stopped needing to roll coins to afford vacations. Somewhere along the line we probably even forgot how fun it was, but it was. It really was. 

So, I want to remember late-night milkshake runs. I want to remember stupid conversations in the car. I want to remember that, for today at least, my husband likes my face better than cooking and we’re so broke that we might start paying for milkshakes with rolls of nickels (they’re $5, like two small Chick-Fil-A milkshakes). But, I don’t want to lose it. This is better than clocks and calendars. It’s better than meetings and report cards (what isn’t?). This is how we pass the time. It makes me equal parts sad that it’s passing and happy to be in it. I don’t remember thinking of it this way before. I hope I don’t forget now.


Typically, being “halfway” to something isn’t that inspiring. Typically, it means you still have JUST AS MUCH time/work ahead of you as you’ve already completed. 
Sometimes, half is lucky. Today is that day. 
Today is April 9, 2011. We are halfway between October 9, 2010 and October 9, 2011. Hallelujah.  Most of you probably do not know, but today is my 6-month-aversary with my amazingly-wonderful-so-good-it-still-shocks-me-after-knowing-him-for-6.5-years husband. Yup. That’s the one. 
So, my sweet husband, thank you. I mean, really. Today we had the L-O-O-O-O-N-G-E-S-T yard sale day, ever. EVER (until next week?). You were a freaking. champ. Yes. A champ. I’ve said THE MOST RIDICULOUS things this week/weekend. I mean, ridiculous. I’ve been totally looney/loopy/can’t think of any more “loo” words…but if there are some? I’ve been them. Spring break went to my head. You have just giggled, said nice things, and patted me. I don’t mind the patronizing gestures. You could call me a dumb…well, you know. But you don’t.
On top of all that, you helped me dig a cat grave and then listened to me whine about my GDTs (Grave-Digging-Thighs: yes friends, they do exist). Basically, you let your out of shape wife try to dig in rocky clay/dirt until she couldn’t do it anymore. You let her swing the axe-thingy and try to jump on the shovel until she was so exhausted that she couldn’t even deal with it and then asked, yes, you realized my control/closure issues and asked me if you could help. You are a God-send. I don’t say that lightly. But then, when you knew you could’ve done it in half the time? You still let me complain all week that my thighs hurt. Why on Earth can I not swing an axe or dig without squats hurting my thighs. What. The. Heck. 
Moving on…
The last 6 months have been amazing. The last year has been amazing. When we were friends, I never knew this existed. There are so many comparisons I could make to prove how great you are…but, end of the day? Your greatness isn’t in comparison to everyone else. #1- It’s in comparison to everyone else. #2-  There isn’t any comparison because you are fantastically amazing & wonderful.
As good as I am with words (hence why I always win arguments) I’m not nearly as good at feelings. Please continue to read my mind (maybe less with the negative/crazy) and realize how much I love you. Even when I’m a jerk, remember that my little dance means that I can’t wait to kiss you. The lines in my face (you know the ones, between the brows) don’t always mean I’m angry…or that you’re crazy. Sometimes they mean both. Sometimes they mean I’m just joking you. Speaking of those eyebrows, thanks for telling me I’m pretty even when they’re going from the larvae stage to full-blown caterpillar because I’ve spent my “free” money for the month and don’t have enough for waxing. 
Thanks for wanting babies. Sorry I’m not quite there yet. Honestly, you make it hard not to be. You’re the greatest husband I could’ve dreamed up and you will be THE greatest father on the face of the planet. Of. All. Time. 
Thanks for dealing with the crazy: the work crazy, the messy-house crazy, the Jesus-crises crazy, the emotional crazy, the cat-grief crazy, the people-grief crazy, the I-hate-showering-on-a-daily-basis crazy. Also- all the other crap you deal with is pretty impressive. One more thing, thanks for playing it cool whenever I have a new idea for the house (like re-painting the living room we painted not-too-long ago, repainting the *intense* kitchen, re-decorating any/all rooms, getting rid of your nightstand/lamp before we bought a new one (yup, that’s today) and knowing what I need EVERY DAY of our life together.
We may only be halfway to a year, but instead of halfway meaning “so much more ahead”, I’m glad to say that halfway means, “not enough time in the world ahead”. 
I love you.
wifey. xoxoxoxoxo –these are an IOU 

welcome home…

Dear Husband of Mine,
I love you. Welcome home to domestic bliss. There is a sink overflowing with dishes onto the counter (from before you and I ever left), a million piles of laundry (at least it’s clean?), and a newly rearranged living room with everything out of place (or in new places) that you don’t recognize…but still not *clean*. Oh, and don’t forget those lovely piles of Christmas gifts on the couch I didn’t put away. 
But let’s remember the things you did miss. You missed my face. Of course you did, right? Well, minus that while you were gone I didn’t wear make-up every day and before you left I didn’t even shower every day because we weren’t going anywhere. 
You probably missed my sweet voice, which has been yelling at kids for a week and a half because we’ve all caught a horrendous case of cabin fever. 
You probably missed my sweet domestic skills while you were in India, but hey, I did put on our brand-spanking-new-super-comfortable sheets for you when you got home! 
But what I hope you’ve missed most of all is the fact that having you 3/4 of the way around the world was tough…but it was good. I definitely think that it did us good. We seem better. Maybe that whole “absence makes the heart grow fonder”. And now I’m just pathetic enough that I miss you when I leave in the morning, even though I know you’ll be home when I get back from work. So I hope you missed my crazy-pathetic-needy-love for you…

And mostly? I hope you missed how good I am at being a homemaker…like last night when I accidentally washed a jar of Dap wall-spackle with our light delicates…

Welcome home, baby!