What Infertility Does to a Person

Sitting here, rummaging through my thoughts, I've realized that I'm at a total loss for what to say. I guess that's why I've put off writing this post. As I said previously, this week is National Infertility Awareness Week (NIAW), I'm not the type to get all hot and bothered over a "theme", if you will, for a specific week/month to draw attention to certain diseases or disorders, but this week needs special attention. 

I'm at a loss of a way to put into words what infertility does, not just to the person suffering from it, but to the couple, to the family, to all those who are close friends/family with the one suffering from infertility. How do you explain something so personal, something so close to my heart, something, that even 40 years down the road, when I'm done having children, will still have left my heart a little broken? 

But really, I'm lucky. I've been able to get pregnant fairly quickly after fertility treatments and have had two, almost three wonderful spirits come into my life. When I hear of someone suffering from infertility my heart breaks for them, I want to give them a hug and tell them I love them. This is a disease I would never wish on my worst enemy. Some days I hate the fact that I'm one of the 1 in 8 that suffers from some form of infertility, but in all actuality I'm glad it's me and not someone else, I'm thankful that I was able to take the pain and heart-ache away from someone so they don't have to suffer and go through what so many of us have to go through. 

I want to say that after trying for a year and finally getting an answer to why Neil and I couldn't conceive on our own that we felt at peace and like all of our questions were answered...but I can't say that. Were we relieved? You better believe it, but we were also left with more questions than we came with. Now, instead of "Why can't we get pregnant", we were left with questions swirling around in our head such as, "What now? What are we supposed to do? What if this doesn't work?" etc. 

Infertility is like a maze, you can't see what's in front of you, but maybe if you turn this way instead of that you will find the finish line. If that doesn't work then backtrack and try the other route, and if that doesn't work? Back to the beginning you go to start all over to see where changes can be made. You're continually looking for the ladder that will let you see the layout of your maze journey, but the truth is, there isn't one, instead of trying to climb higher to see you finally realize that you must do the exact opposite and fall to your knees, close your eyes and pray. Pray for guidance, for patience, for knowledge, for faith, for comfort. Because that's how you're finally going to find the finish line, it may not be the finish line you had in mind, but when you finally arrive there you know it's what was planned long ago for you. 

Like I said, infertility has permanently screwed me up. Even though I'm a mom to almost three, whenever I hear of someone that is pregnant I get a stab of jealousy. Why do I do this? I have no idea and I feel so childish when it happens. I don't know their story, maybe they had gone through more than me to be blessed with their sweet baby...but it hurts all the same. Don't get me wrong, I am still happy for them and want to celebrate in their joy, but sometimes I wish that were me. 

So what do I ask during NIAW? I ask that we all have more understanding, more love, and more knowledge of infertility. I ask that we not be so judgmental towards those women who cry instead of cheer for joy when one of their friends announces their pregnancy, that we understand why your best friend didn't show up to your baby shower. I promise it's not because she didn't want to, or that she isn't excited for you, or that she doesn't love you...it's simply because she can't face a crowd of women again with empty arms while they all hold their precious babies in theirs. It's because she can't answer another, "When are you going to have a baby?" I ask that we love all those that suffer from infertility, because honestly, that's what we need the most.

A post of the rambling kind

I always seem to write what is on my mind. I presume it's because when I talk, I feel like all my thoughts get jumbled together and I can't straighten them out to form a coherent sentence, but if I take the time to think and mull them over, I write my thoughts down and, viola, they're hopefully now somewhat coherent. But, it seems that lately I've had too many thoughts going on in my small brain. There are so many things I want to write out, so I can truly think about them and ponder on what they mean to me and how I really feel about it, that I just avoid writing altogether because all the different lines of thoughts become one big, messy thought.

If you can't guess, I think a lot...like a lot a lot. I love to think, really think deeply about things. You can't ask me a serious question and have it briefly thought about then dismissed. I may never bring the subject up to you again, but the chances are that I have scoured every part of my brain to find out how I truly feel about a subject, it's pretty intense up in here...okay, probably not.

An example of this exact situation is as follows: Neil and I have been going to the Gospel Principles class lately because we have some great neighbors and friends that are starting to come back to church, so we like to go with them. It's really great for Neil and I too, because it gets back to the basics and really helps us understand how simple the gospel really is. Anyway, a few weeks ago, so probably like 3 months ago (seriously, I've been thinking about this question for 3 flipping months!) the class was asked why we believe there was ever only one Savior. The teacher proposed that there could have been a Savior for ever decade, century, etc. why just one for all time and eternity? This is something that I've never really sat down and thought about, I just assumed the answer explained itself. I didn't have an answer on that day, I thought what everyone else was saying summed up my thoughts exactly. And they were wonderful reasons, because if there was more than one it wouldn't be significant, and the likes. Which, don't get me wrong, I still believe those answers to be true 100%, and I do believe they play into why there was only one Savior, but I wanted more...I'm never satisfied, I have to find an answer that speaks to me.

So, why do I believe there was only one Savior? Well, I'm glad you asked. And don't quote me on this, this is purely my own opinion and not church doctrine in any way. I'm probably so wrong on this that it's not even funny. But I honestly believe that ONE of the reasons there was, and is, only one Savior is because he was the only one who volunteered. I guess technically there were 2, but we all know what happened with the other plan...But think about it, we were all there and we all knew what our Father in Heaven needed and wanted, and yet, Christ was the only one who stood and said that he would do exactly as his father asked. We were all given the same chance he was to volunteer, and yet we didn't. I know we would all say now that we would have done what Christ did, but the truth is, if we were placed in that situation we obviously wouldn't, because we were placed in that same situation and we didn't. Get it? Did I lose anyone is that mess? Okay, good.

I actually talked to Neil about this and he believes it is simply because Christ is the only BEGOTTEN son of God, which of course makes perfect sense as well. I believe that to also be accurate, but Neil's a smarty pants. Who knows the exact reasoning behind there only being one Savior, except Christ and God themselves? But think about it for yourself, why do you believe there was only one Savior? You may be surprised at your own thoughts.

Other things I've been thinking about in my noggin (which I will hopefully find time to jot down in a while) are as follows: My sister, I know I've done quite a few posts giving praise to different members of my family, but she's my only sister and I've been thinking about her a whole heck of a lot. My daddy (yes, I still call him daddy at times), the same explanation of my sister goes here as well. Infertility and how it still greatly affects me, this will probably come the week of April 22, because, you know, April 22-28 is National Infertility Awareness Week (NIAW) and it's time to be aware, yo. Being a stay-at-home-mom, and how I came to that choice, this stems from recent political debacles which I normally don't like to talk about but this one subject pushes a button for me. Being LDS and how I gained my testimony, and why it still rings true to me every day. My weight...I think about this a lot (like I'm sure most women unfortunately do, no matter their weight or physical fitness). I don't like where I am weight-wise, I've actually never been happy with my weight, I've always thought of myself as overweight, but now I look back at pictures from when I was younger and even though I know I will never get that body back, I realize how screwed up my thinking was...but I know I'm now overweight and after baby bean comes i'm going to rectify that.

See, I think a lot. I don't talk too much, because I'm always thinking...

What's in a name?

I feel that names are a big part of what make a person. I've never been into fads when it come to pretty much anything, but I really am not a trendy name liker (make sense). I know what everyone is thinking, "Emma is such a popular name." It's true, it really is a very popular name these days, but it was (and is) a name that I just absolutely love and couldn't imagine naming my Emma Lou anything else.

With that said, I think I have chosen all extremely classic names for my children that will never tend to go out of style, there are just some names out there right now that when I think of these children in their 70s and 80s, I wonder if they'll still like their name, but to each his own. And I'm not going to say any names publicly...

Now, onto why we chose the name Clark for our bean. It's really a simple answer, my amazingly wonderful great-grandma's last name was Clark. When we were thinking of boy names, I just kept coming back to the name Clark, I want my boy to be half of what she was, if anyone deserves to have someone named after them, it is "Grandma Great", to which I will refer to her from here on out.

Family picture with Grandma, Neil and I weren't even married yet.

Think of the most Christlike person you know; the most loving, charitable, humble, genuine, happy person you know, they still don't compare to my sweet Grandma Great. I consider myself one of the luckiest people in the world to be able to have known her. I never once heard her say something bad of anyone else. The first time she met you she would tell you she loves you (Neil can back me up on this). She was always smiling and happy to be in your company. I love my sweet grandma.

Grandma holding Emma

I can recall stories of my grandma watching us kids while my parents were out of town. She was the one who taught me now to really vacuum. We were cleaning the house (because this woman was constantly doing something productive) and she asked me to vacuum my parents room. Me, being the snot I was, simply explained to her that I wouldn't because I couldn't. She sweetly told me that I should at least try, there's no harm in trying, so I did. When I was finished I showed her my work (which I'm sure was horrendous) and she praised me in the wonderful job I had done, then asked me to go vacuum another room in the house...she sure was a smart cookie.

She was always so grateful and humble, she was always telling you thank-you for every little thing you did and would always ask what she could do to help, even when her health was failing her, she just "needed" to help with something. It was always a constant reminder that there is more I could be doing.

I remember towards the end of her life, I was watching her, as I was helping her to bed she gently reminded me that she hadn't said her prayers yet, and they needed to be said. I helped her kneel down next to her bed and as I knelt down with her, I was simply amazed and her sweet, simple prayer. You could feel the spirit so strongly from this little lady. She sat there asking over and over again for Heavenly Father to help her be more grateful and more humble. I was awe-struck, here is the most humble and grateful person I know, asking to more humility and gratitude...if she thinks she has work to do, then what about me?!

I could go on and on about Grandma Great. There's so much more that could be told about her and the legacy she left behind. She never had much in terms of material goods, but she was the wealthiest person I know in terms of the things that really matter. Her countenance shined through, and she truly loved every person she ever came in contact with.

My wonderful grandma died in October of '07. She was able to meet Emma and shower her with her love. We had five generations of all girls alive at the same time, and I'm happy to say that it is all because my grandma started it all.

Clark has big shoes to fill, but I know he can do it. My grandma will always be looking out for him, giving him the gentle nudge he will need to stay on track. I love you miss you Grandma Great, you are my super-hero, my role-model...who I aspire to one day be.

Pregnancy Thus Far

I realized the other day that I really haven't documented this pregnancy in any way, shape, or form. I guess time has just really seemed to fly by this time around, and I've forgotten that it's already been over 28 weeks, I only have less than 11 to go, needless to say we're getting pretty excited over here.

All of my pregnancies have been extremely different. With Emma I remember being so sick for the majority of it, I was sick for the first 24+ weeks, had a few weeks to recoup, then was sick for the last 6+, it was miserable.

With Claire I was so exhausted the whole time, plus I was sick, not as sick as I was with Emma, but still pretty sick. I finally found out around 28 weeks that I has a little anemic, so I started taking iron pills and that helped somewhat with my exhaustion level.

This pregnancy though, wow, it's taken its toll on me. I haven't been as sick as I was the other two times (knock on wood), but if I thought I was tired with Claire, I knew nothing. I could literally fall asleep at any given moment, if given the chance (which I never am). I get sick a lot more often, if you know me you know I never get sick, but with this pregnancy I have gotten the flu twice (maybe three times, my mind is a little foggy), and I have the world's most hellish cold and I've had this cold for 2 flipping weeks now, it's not fun at all. And the weirdest symptom...cold sores every 2-4 weeks. Yep, I have been getting a new cold sore ever 2-4 weeks, I only get one cold sore a year and then one right after I have a baby, but I've been getting them non-stop. I actually asked my doctor about it because it is so strange and he just simply said that pregnancy does weird things to your immune system....you think?

Pregnancy, you love it and hate it. I absolutely love feeling little bean move, he's quite the mover and shaker and it's so fun to not just know he's in there, but feel him, it's a constant affirmation that you are doing one of the most glorious things in the world...growing another human being.

But in all seriousness, I'm excited for June to finally arrive so I can meet my little man. The girls are moved in the same room now, so he has a bed to sleep in, his clothes are all folded and put away, and the lovely Braxton Hicks have been gracing me regularly. We're just waiting for Clark to grace us with his presence...in 11 weeks, we don't want him coming too early now.

Claire Bear and her Story

Two birth stories in a row...man aren't we the lucky ones today?

Yes, it's true. Today is my Claire B's birthday. It's still hard to believe that my baby is 2! I guess it's a good thing I'm on the cusp of having another baby to snuggle with and give me loves. But Claire is still plenty snugly, she definitely loves her mommy, which I love, except when I've had enough of her climbing all over me and begging to be held 24/7. I don't know if she's heard, but I'm 26 weeks pregnant and don't feel like carrying her around all the time, but alas, I know I will miss those moments when they are gone. My favorite of all time right now is when, out of the blue, Claire will look at me and say, "Oos you too, mommy." and I get a big hug and kiss.

But I digress, the story of her birthing experience. No worries, it's not nearly as dramatic as Emma's, but it's still just as beautiful, because, well, they all are.

After getting pregnant so quickly with Emma, it took us nearly 2 years to get pregnant with our Claire. Neil and I were so excited to finally be expecting another baby and for Emma to get to be a big sister! Claire was due on March 31, 2010.

I decided to have a repeat C-Section, this is a decision that Neil and I took very seriously. We wanted to do what was best for me and our future babies, because we knew that after two C-Sections, you can't go back. We researched it, talked about it, prayed about it, talked with family about it, and finally talked to my doctor about it. I know what people say that doctors will pressure you to do a C-Section because it's so easy for them and you're in and out and blah, blah, blah. This was not my experience in the least bit. My doctor understood my concerns and talked to me about both options, but still, I had a very strong feeling that a C-Section was best for both me and my babies, I'm not saying this is the case for everyone, but or me it definitely was. Plus I had such a wonderful experience with my last C-Section, I couldn't imagine a better experience. The pain is minimal and the recovery is actually faster with a C-Section than a vaginal birth.

Since I decided to have a repeat C-Section, my date to have Claire was set for March 24, one week before her due date. We were all excited, and again, my pregnancy went off without a hitch. When I was 34 weeks pregnant I started going in and getting NSTs (Non-Stress Tests) done twice a week, because we didn't want what had happened with Emma to happen with Claire (don't worry, we've already planned getting them done with Clark too, once I hit the 34 week mark), and she was perfectly healthy...what a relief.

I continued to go to school part time throughout my pregnancy, which I'm really grateful I did. I started having contractions a few weeks before Claire was born and I remember going in for a check-up and my doctor telling me that he didn't think I would make it to my scheduled C-Section, I told him I knew I wouldn't...so the waiting game began. Two days after that conversation with my doctor I remember telling Neil that labor was eminent, just one little thing needed to change and I knew I would go into full-fledged labor, I just didn't know what that thing was....little did I know that later that day my contractions were now regular and getting more and more intense, Neil worked graveyards and so he was sleeping. I decided since I needed to go to Wal-Mart anyway, I would go and walk around for a while to see if I would walk the contractions off, they weren't painful, they were just annoying.

After walking around Wla-Mart for more than an hour, the contractions had gotten more intense, I actually had to stop walking when a contraction hit and just rock for a minute. I went home and called my mom to see what she said. She told me to walk around my house and time them, so I turned the T.V. on for Emma and walk and timed for about 30 minutes. My contractions were about 2 minutes apart, but still not painful. I called my mom and she said that it didn't sound right so she stayed on the phone with me and timed them for me for a few minutes, but it was true, they were 2 minutes apart. I asked her what I should do because I had class that night. I didn't know if I should go to class for go to the hospital. She said that if it were her she would go to the hospital to get and NST since I was going to get one tomorrow anyway, might as well get it over with.

I wake Neil up and we head up to Heber. We get to the hospital and the contractions have pretty much stopped, which I knew would happen. I was on the monitor for a good 10-15 minutes before my first contraction, of course. But after that they came back with a vengeance, they were again about two minutes apart and more and more painful. when asked my pain it was somewhere around a 3 to a 4, depending on the contraction. They thought maybe I was dehydrated so they gave me IV fluids, but even after the bag was more than half way gone the contractions weren't stopping or slowing down.

My mom left to take Emma home and Neil called to see how I was (he stayed at my parents house to get some sleep just in case he ended up going to work). I told him what was going on and I would call him if I found anything out. My mom came back and we talked for a minute and then Neil came in with a really weird look on his face. I asked him why he was making that face and he told me that he overheard the nurses talking about me, and my doctor had told them to prepare for a C-Section, he would come right in. I wasn't sure if I believed him, but right after that my nurse cam in and confirmed what Neil had said, baby Claire was making her debut 3 weeks early!

Everything went perfectly as planned and Claire was born on March 11, 2010 at 12:40 am weighing 6 lbs. 6 oz. and 18 inches long. I got to see her right after she was out and she was screaming her head off. It was the most beautiful sound in the world, especially after what we had gone through with Emma. I immediately started the water works, I couldn't believe she was finally here and healthy! I even remember saying something about how I loved that sound and I didn't want her to stop, and my doctor agreeing, saying after Emma's experience that was music to his ears as well.

I love my Claire Bear with all my heart! She is so funny and cute, and totally the opposite of her sister in so many ways. But they are madly in love with each other. Emma's the prefect big sister and Claire is the perfect little sister, they go together like cookies and cream. I love my Deedle.

Baby Claire! right after she was born.

My first time holding her

Neil's first time holding her

Her first bath. I love how much she didn't appreciate it.

Emma's first time seeing her

This picture explains everything!

She couldn't stop kissing her

I just love this picture of my dad and his two granddaughters.

I'm sorry, but doesn't my child look just like Neil from day 1!?

Home snuggling with her sister

If you knew anything, this is a sign of true love Emma has for Claire. She even let her have her two favorite dolls.

Bed Head

The Story of the One Who Made Me a Mother

She did, Emma made me a mom, something I had been dreaming of since I was a little girl, and 5 wonderful years ago, Emma finally made my dreams come true and made me a mommy.

Emma's birth story is one that, five years after the fact, can still bring me to tears. It's a story that is very near and dear to my heart. I know I've told bits and pieces of it here on the blog, but I've never told everything of that day...I figure her 5th birthday is probably a good time. While this day was the best and most wonderful day of all, it was also the scariest and hardest days of my life...probably not just one of the hardest, but the absolute hardest to date. But here it is, in full. Make yourself comfortable, because, if you dare, you are about to embark on a novel.

The best place to start would probably be the very beginning, for those of you that don't know, Neil and I were married on June 2, 2006, and found out we were expecting on July 4, 2006...yep one month and two days after we were wed we were surprised to find out we were expecting, it was especially a surprise because I had been told that I would more than likely have a hard time conceiving.

My pregnancy went off without a hitch, everything was very uneventful, she was perfect and I was perfectly sick...This all started to come to a halt around 36 weeks, I was having regular contractions all day so I finally decided to see what was going on. I was indeed having contractions, and I was dilated to 3 and 80-90% effaced...woohoo. But 2 hours later no change had been made, that's when my doctor gave me the option of staying in the hospital for the night or going home to try to get some sleep, I opted to go home, which I'm really glad I did. At that my mom mentioned maybe giving me a shot of Demerol for the pain, my doctor agreed that it was a great idea and so the nurse gave me a shot of the magical medicine (I came to find out later that my mom recommended this not only because it helps with pain, but because it will do one of two things 1)if you are in real labor it will pick things up and make them move along, or 2) if it is false labor it will slow thins down and make the contractions stop.) I went back to my parents house and was able to sleep thanks to modern medicine, even though the nurses all thought I would be back before the night was over, we were all disappointed when I woke up in the morning with very little pain with my contractions, and by the end of the day they had pretty much subsided.

My pregnancy continued for a little over a week...it all started on February 23. Neil was at work so I was with my mom that night. I was telling her how I hadn't felt Emma move very much at all, she reassured me and told me to keep track of the movements, but not to become too worried. The rest of the night I really didn't feel her move any more, and as she was dropping me off I told her again that I just wasn't feeling her move, we talked more and I decided that when Neil got home I would have him give me a blessing and we would go from there. Neil got home close to midnight and I told him what was going on, he gave me a blessing and in the middle I felt Emma move for a minute. That calmed my nerves somewhat and Neil and I decided to go to bed and see how we felt in the morning.

The next day was Saturday so Neil and I did what we usually did...straighten up the house, relax, and later that night we went to dinner and a movie. I remember all throughout the day I still wasn't feeling Emma move, Neil never asked me (I think we he was scared) and I never mentioned to Neil what I was feeling (I know I was too scared). I remember during the movie I wasn't able to concentrate at all because I was continually worrying about Emma and poking and prodding at my stomach to make her move (it didn't work). Finally, when we got home late that night I told Neil that I hadn't felt Emma move, he tried to convince me to go to the hospital, to which I disagreed completely, I was just being a paranoid first time mom. I went to get in the shower, and Neil sneakily called my mom to get back-up...it worked and we headed up to Heber around 11. We picked my mom up and arrived at the hospital around midnight.

For the first two hours they just monitored me, everything looked....okay. They said that every time I had a contraction Emma would move so they couldn't really get an accurate reading, so I was put in weird positions and things were moved around to try to find her again. It was round 2 am that my doctor came in to check me and see what was going on. I was now dilated to a 4 and 100% effaced, progress. He said that Emma's strip wasn't great but it wasn't terrible and he wanted to keep me overnight to make sure everything was okay.

Neil took my mom home while I started to settle in for the night. That's where things started to get hectic. The nurse came back in to tell me that Emma started have some late decels (after a contraction her heart rate would drop) so they wanted to give my some oxygen and give me fluids through an IV. When Neil returned from dropping my mom off (which wasn't more than 10 minutes, my parents only live a couple miles away from the hospital) my doctor followed him in to tell us some startling news...Emma was in distress, every time I would have a contraction, it's not that she would move, it's that her heart rate would drop so low they couldn't pick it up. She needed to get out and she needed to get out now, the stress of labor would be too much for her, thus the only option was an emergency c-section. Neil called my parents and his, my mom and sister were back at the hospital in less than 5 minutes. I actually remember shaking because I was so shocked, my sister told me to calm down....that's when I snapped, I didn't cry, I didn't yell, I just looked at her and said very sternly to shut up because she had no idea what I was going through and dealing with....I feel bad about that now...

Within a half hour of being told I was going to have a c-section, I was being wheeled into the operating room. I was lucky enough to be able to not just have Neil there, but also my mom. Because she worked in surgery at this hospital she was allowed in. And after only a few short moments Emma was brought into this world, but had I not seen all the nurses go from me to the baby bed, I wouldn't have known. She made no sound, not even a whimper. I attempted to stay calm by telling myself that sometimes babies don't cry right off, it can take a couple minutes, but those minutes and then some passed with still no sound. The next thing I remember is talk of an ambulance, I was mortified, then the talked changed to life-flight....this must be a nightmare, I can wake-up now...no harm no foul. But it wasn't a nightmare, this was my baby they were talking about, my helpless newborn baby girl. Neil was unsure as whether stay by my side or to go be with Emma, I assured him that I am a big girl and take care of myself, but Emma needs her daddy by her side, that's when he left my side. My mom recalls me saying something to the effect of, "Mommy, where's my baby, how is she, is she okay? Mommy, my baby, what's going on?", which I don't, but I do know that I was asking how Emma was. I remember my mom being so calm and collected and telling me, "She's absolutely beautiful. She has a head full of black hair. She's so pretty. She's just having a hard time breathing so they're helping her with that. But Ali, she's so beautiful." She saved me from a complete and utter melt down.

I wasn't able to see Emma until they had her stabilized, which turned out to be 5 or so hours. As they wheeled her out of the operating room, the nurses stopped so I could see her, but being numb from the armpits down and my arms strapped to the operating table, I was only able to see the top of her head, but I could already see how magnificent she was.

Bagging Emma

This was one of the very first pictures I was able to see of Emma. I started bawling my eyes out. Neil definitely was taking care of her.

After the C-section and the recovery room, I was finally let in to my hospital room where my dad and Neil's parents were waiting. I know it sounds rude and it was wonderful to know they were there for support, but I just couldn't figure out how I was supposed to entertain them....I just wanted them to leave so I could wallow. But it was in that room that I was finally able to figure out what was going on with my sweet girl. I found out that it was true, she wasn't able to breathe on her own, they bagged her right after birth and she then had a hole in one of her lungs, which led to them cutting a small hole in her rib cage so they could place a tube to begin the healing process. I was informed that on the Apgar scale (the scale used to determine how healthy an infant is at birth, 0 being dead and 10 being perfect in every way...a 6 or higher is considered good) my little Emma was a 1, not what I wanted to hear. She was doing better, but airmed was in intubating her so she would be life-flighted to the U of U hospital.

My mom came in a little while later (she, my sister, and Neil were all with Emma) to show me some pictures, since I still wasn't able to see her. Words cannot describe how I felt when I saw those pictures, she wasn't just perfect. My heart was so full. I've heard motherhood explained as having your heart outside of your body and even that doesn't fully describe how it feels to see your baby for the first time. My mom told me she weighed 5 lbs 2 oz and was 19 1/2 inches long. I finally understood what love at first sight is. Don't get me wrong, I loved Emma from the moment I found out I was pregnant, but oh....I just can't describe the feelings she evoked.

After a while airmed brought Emma in so I could finally see her before she was taken to the U of U. They explained to me what was going on and let Neil give Emma a blessing, they were there for only about 5 minutes and they were off...my baby was gone. I wasn't even able to see my girl open her eyes because they had already intubated her, but I got to see and touch her! It was amazing!

Emma in her bed ready for life-flight. This was the first time I got to see her.

Isn't she absolutely beautiful?!

Airmed taking her away.

Everyone left to go to the U and be with Emma so I was left by myself. I tried to get some sleep, but I had too much on my mind. I was continually praying that everything would be alright and Emma would pull through. During that time I have never felt closer to my Heavenly Father. I can honestly say he was right there with me, holding me and comforting me the way only a dad can. I remember when Neil would express his worries or concerns I would reply with a simple, "Everything's going to be alright." When he would ask me how I knew this, I couldn't explain myself, I just knew.

Her first day in the NICU. You can see her chest tube really well here.

Because Emma had been without oxygen for so long her kidneys took a hit (they are the first organ to do so) but they were worse than originally thought, so Emma had to have and MRI because after the kidneys the brain is the next organ to take a hit from lack of oxygen. This was the only thing that I was concerned about. Her brain....that's everything. We were all extremely relieved and thankful that her MRI came back extremely normal, the neurologist even gave her a "gold star" which apparently is rare.

The first day in the NICU Emma was on a C-Pap machine to breathe for her, but she was quickly weened off that to a nasal cannula. Everyday she was making progress and finally by her fourth day in the ICU she was able to be held. I sat there and stared at her until they came and told me it was time for her to go back to her bassinet. I remember asking Neil if he wanted to hold her because I felt so bad hogging her and he, being the wonderful husband and daddy he is, told me that I was fine, I'm the mom and deserve to hold her as long as I please...to which I did.

Emma's C-PAP

My first time seeing Emma after I was released from the hospital.

My first time holding Emma Love.

We were originally told that Emma would most likely stay in the hospital for 2 weeks, but a minimum of a week, so we were surprised when we were told that we could take her home after only 6 days in the NICU. I actually started dancing...kind of, it still hurt to move too much. We brought her home and she has been the perfect child ever since. Okay, maybe not perfect, but why would you want a perfect child? She's wonderful just the way she is. I love that girl with all my heart.

First day home!

She almost gets lost in that blanket!

I want to shout-out to my doctor...he's pretty damn amazing, yep I swore because that's how wonderful he is. He saved my baby girl's life. He even went above and beyond his job description by calling the NICU everyday to get an update on Emma. When I went in to get my staples out you could see the concern in his face. I remember him telling me that he had gone over again and again in his mind what we could have seen to detect this earlier on, but he couldn't think of anything. I reassured him that I believe he is right, but he listened to me and didn't think I was crazy, and by doing so my Emma was still here with me. I couldn't ask for more. so that's why I'm a crazy lunatic and drive an hour to go to the doctor, because I don't trust anyone as much as I trust Dr. Tayler.

So that's the story of Emma banging birth. She new that if she came she would come with a bang, one that we would never forget, because that's her to a T. Love that girl.

Pathetic Update

Nothing really to update you all on. I know you've been sitting anxiously awaiting my next post...sorry to get your hopes up. Still alive and doing well. I'm working on the novel that is Emma's birth, because she will be turning 5 on Saturday and I haven't quite documented all the happenings of that wondrous day. Look out for that.

P.S. Am I really old enough to have a 5 year-old?! GAG!