Grant's Birth

We have a son!  And he is beyond beautiful.  He is so calm and peaceful (except when you are changing his diaper/clothes or giving him a bath, then he screams bloody murder).  But we have a son.  I am a mom.  Derek is a dad.  We have waited so long and worked so hard for this experience and our lives are changed forever.  For the better.

I warn you, it is no "National Geographic" story (if you know what I mean) but if you are uncomfortable with lots of bodily fluids/functions being discussed, you may want to stop reading now.

Birth is awesome.  In so many ways.  Painful?  Yes.  Terrible?  Yes.  Exhausting?  Yes.  It was the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life, but the outcome trumps all the pain/anguish and toil.  Because to me, giving birth has been the crowning (ha!  crowning.  Only moms will get that) moment of my life.  Far and away my greatest accomplishment.  Far and away the most joy I have ever felt.  And, far and away the most beautiful and profound spiritual experience I have ever had.   Because the second I could see that giant head, I was completely overcome with love, joy, and gratitude of the deepest nature I have ever felt.  Many tears of joy and gratitude to my Father in Heaven were shed.  ANd he was/is worth every moment of pain and every moment of every day we struggled to bring him into this world.  And I knew that the second they laid him in my arms on my chest.  I knew him.  And he knew me.  He didn't cry.  He was calm and peaceful.  Because he is a sweet miracle straight from heaven.  We were together there because we are an eternal family and eternity is never ending before and after this life on earth. I know that is hard to wrap your mind around, but we knew each other.  The second I saw him I knew he was my son, that he was always my son.  Not just because I carried him, but because Heavenly Father has entrusted me to be his mother and there is truly no more sacred, better, more beautiful, more daunting, or more awesome calling in life.  I knew that in an instant and my conviction of this fact grows stronger every day.

As for labor: I feel like labor and delivery is the culmination and crowning jewel of womanhood.  It is what we are created to do.  To create and grow life and bring it into this world.  Sure, it doesn't feel good.  But I would do it again in an instant.  Pain and everything.  Because it is so sacred.  I can't explain how sacred, I do not have the words, so hopefully as I write Grant's birth story, I will be able to express myself more eloquently.

Alright.  July 1, 2015.  Due date.
I really never had any signs that my body was remotely close to going into labor (insert sad/frustrated face).  I had decided I was going to force this baby to come.  So Koda and I went running (2.5 miles), then went on a long walk, sat on the dryer while it was going, cleaned, ran stairs, ate pineapple, had been eating supremely spicy food for over a week (because spicy is normal in my home), and got a pedicure with Lisa, my sister.

While I was sitting in the massage chair at the pedicure place, I started having mild contractions about 10 minutes apart.  No biggie.  I just calmly started to time them.  We went home and I started to make dinner.  At about 5:30, I felt some leakage.  So I went and checked and I was bleeding (diluted) quite a bit.  So I called Derek and the midwife and my contractions started jumping around.  5 minutes, 2 minutes, 10 minutes, 4 minutes, etc.

By the time we determined we needed to go to the hospital, we arrived at around 7 pm, shift change....of course.  And my mom arrived about 10 minutes after we did.  Anyway, I was only dilated to 2 cm (insert sad face), but since I was bleeding they admitted me.  I was so nervous I was going to have to be hooked to machines the entire time but they monitored, did some tests, then let me do my thing.  So Derek and I went walking to help ease the contractions.

They checked me at around 8:30 pm and I was a 3+, almost 4 cm and 100% effaced, so I got moved from triage into labor and delivery.  Hooray for progress.  Once we were settled Derek and I went walking again (I swear I was the only person in labor that night).  Derek was so helpful, holding my hand, keeping me in the zone while I leaned on the wall, or a handrail, or him (I am convinced those handrails are randomly placed for laboring moms who go walking and need something to hold onto when having a contraction).

Walking it out.  Don't I look great?  Not.

When we got back (8:40 pm), they put my IV port (just in case) and brought me a birthing ball.  I got on the ball while Derek did light touch massage on my back and I just leaned forward ont he bed and listened to one of my meditation sequences.  All the sudden, I just felt like I wanted to barf.  And at 9:25 pm, that is exactly what I did.  Bye bye dinner.  Luckily for me, they have tall trash cans so it was the perfect height for me sitting on the ball.  Boy did that feel good, and I am grateful Derek bought a travel sized Listerene...

on the birthing ball

Baby was checked via monitoring real quick (they would put them on every hour for a few minutes) and all was well, so we went walking again at around 9:50.  We got back and I had to sit on the ball and rest because the contractions were getting really strong and long.  Right on top of one another.  I felt like there was no recovery time.  One would start and as it was starting to subside another would start.  And it is about 10:30 pm, and they put me in bed on my side with this weird "peanut pillow" which is like a peanut shaped, slightly deflated birthing ball.  I was not a fan so I asked Sara, my nurse, to check me because I REALLY wanted to get in the tub but I needed to be 5 cm.  So she checked and I was 6 cm.  Hooray!  Bath time.

I hate baths.  They gross me out.  But I loved this bath.  Wow.  It was amazing.  The hot water really helped me to calm down and relax my muscles.  I sat in the tub and listened to another meditation and although I was "out of it" Derek sat by my side and held my hand the entire time and would keep putting water on the towel draped over my abdomen so I didn't get cold.  He would check the water and add new hot water, and kiss my forehead, and rub my arms.  He was so great.  I am a lucky lady.

At 11:25 pm, Jill, my midwife came in because I was far enough along.  I didn't know she was there because I was in the tub doing my thing.  But a few words about Jill, she was great.  Really supportive, kind, understanding, calm, and gave great guidance.  Very positive.  I am super lucky.







(Jill on the left, Sara below)






At 11:45 the birthing tub was all set up.  At 11:55 Jill checked me, 7 cm.  That was when Derek announced he lost the bet with my mom and he wouldn't be born on his due date.  To which I reply, "He still could be, what time is it?  9:00?  9:30?"  They looked dumbstruck and told me it was 5 minutes to midnight.  Funny thing, time.  Even though I was in pain, time seemed slow, in a good way.  In that, it did not seem like that much time was passing.  I was just in another world I guess.


Anyway, so when Jill was checking me, she opted to rupture my amniotic sac.  When "my water broke" the sac broke up high and was leaking down.  In the tests they did in triage they saw that the fluid levels were low, so Jill just finished the job.  However, when she was doing this, she said the words no mother wants to hear.  There was, "Thick miconium in the sac."  This meant no water birth and the respiratory team needed to be in the room at birth and I needed to be continually monitored for safety of the babe.

The voices in my head were shouting, "NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"  As I nodded in compliance and they strapped the monitors on me.  Luckily for me, the monitors are mobile and water proof and I could stay in the birthing tub until 9 cm.  If I had had to stay in bed.  I would have gotten an epidural.  End of story.

Derek reassuring me that the baby would be fine and I could do it

So I got in the tub.  I thought the bathtub was great.  Holy cow, this was so much better.  It was bigger, deeper, and soft so I could be in any position.  I didn't need towels over me to keep the belly warm.  Derek would just kneel by my side and do light touch massage, or hold my hand, or cradle my head.  He and mom would get me cold towels for my neck and chest and replenish them whenever I dropped them in the water or heated them up with my hotness.

12:47 am (my mom kept a ledger).  I was on my knees with my elbows on the side of the tub.  Labor was getting really hard and really painful.  It was hard to stay focused.  I am so grateful I had Derek by my side the entire time.  He was an amazing partner.  He really guided me and kept me calm and focused and helped me relax each muscle group and release tension.  He would tell me to release the tension into the tub and I just wanted to say, "I'm swimming in a tub of tension."  But I didn't.  I could not have done it without him.  No way, not in a million years.  I would have broken down.

Anyway, 12:47 - I feel the urge to push and I thought, 'This is impossible.'  But Jill wasn't surprised.  She said I earned the award for world's most silent labor.  (It is true I had been completely silent to this point unless talking to someone.)  But she said my breathing had changed and she thought I must be getting close.  So she checked me.  Stalled at 7 cm (insert really sad and angry face).  I wanted to cry.  And say this isn't fair.  But I accepted the 7 cm and got back in the tub.  I don't know how long I was in there, but it was getting really hard.  And really painful.  And I didn't think I could do it.  And Derek kept me going.   There was one moment in labor I thought, I want an epidural.  But then I said to myself, you can do it, stay focused, and I would just tell Derek to lead me through it and he did.  He was amazing.  I will say it a million more times.  I could not have done it without him there.  

Another person I could not have done it without is Christ.  Without the aid of Christ and his atonement, I would have been lost.  I would just pray for strength and the ability to keep going and lean on the strength of my Savior.  And it worked.  I didn't pray for it to end or be easy.  I just prayed for the strength to endure.  I had to pray multiple times for renewed strength and energy.  But every plea was answered with immediate strength.  I could truly feel the peace that comes when you are encircled in the arms of his love.  And it was so sacred and beautiful.  Just a testimony builder of faith, the atonement, and the family.  After all the family is why we are doing this...

Almost 2 am (how time flies when you are in pain).  8 cm.  Yay!  Progress.  I am in bed facing the back of the bed on  my knees and put my elbows on the back of the bed (Bed is in an L shape) and leaned over.  Derek would just stand or sit behind me while I labored and rocked back and forth.  He would hold my hands and stroke my  head and encourage me.  By now (and round 2 in the tub before) each contractions would have the sound of, "I really have to poop and am painfully constipated," that is the only way I can describe the sounds I made.  I really did need to poop, but it would come.  I tried...

Next check, 9.5 cm.  And Jill decided to just finish the job.  Bless her soul.  So she just opened me the rest of the way and realized that somebody had turned around and was face forward.  (insert frustrated face).  So since she was up there, she just went ALL THE WAY UP and turned him around.  And I thought contractions sucked...Unfortunately, he just turned right back.  Oh well - time to push, face forward.

2:55 am.  I was on the bed with the foot of the bed dropped down and Jill was there.  Derek was by my head and my mom and Sara, nurse, were each on a side holding my legs.  So when a contraction would come, they would bed my knees into me and Derek would help me crunch forward so I could push.  Jill said average push time for 1st time moms is 2 hours.  I was not looking forward to that, especially because face forward is harder to get out.

So, with each contraction I would be able to do 3-4 good hard pushed (each lasting for about 10 seconds).  The entire time it felt like 1 step forward, 2 steps back.  It really seemed like I would be pushing forever.  Luckily it felt like 30-45 minutes of pushing, not an hour and 40 minutes of pushing.  And luckily for me, the contractions didn't hurt anymore.  In fact, it was hard to tell when I was having one, I just followed when my body wanted to push.  Hopefully they were coinciding.  And honestly, pushing didn't hurt either.  My mom had told me that is how it was and I thought she was crazy.  But it is true.  Plus Jill was using a lot of lidocane once he started to crown.

At some point during the pushing process, Grant's oxygen levels dropped, so they made me wear this stupid mask, which oddly made it harder to breathe because I couldn't take deep breaths and it kept falling off.  So annoying.  Anyway, he started to crown and I thought I must be close to being done.  Nope.  That big noggin took FOR-EV-ER to come out.  I got to the point where I was having constant cramps in my hip flexers and I was too exhausted to hold up my legs on my owns.  SO between contractions, mom and Sara would hold my legs up and straight angled in a V and Derek would rub out my ramps.  Soon, Jill thought we were close enough to call in the RT team.  That was false hope.  But never the less, we kept pressing onward.  Every once in awhile I would put my hand down and feel the top of his "little" head.  Little did I know it was actually a MASSIVE head.  But, he turned himself around and came out face back.  Thanks Little Guy.

When he really started to crown, it felt like this crazy burning sensation in between contractions when my body was just stuck in a very open position.  But eventually, he came out.  At that time, Jill just had me keep pushing because contractions had ceased to matter.  And when I saw him, all I could think is, "Holy crap, that is the biggest head I've ever seen."  But I guess I said something like, "No wonder that was so hard."

He was grayish purple and not howling when he came out so Jill immediately cut the cord and handed him off.  They did all the suction etc. in the room 5 feet away from my bed and only had him for 2-3 minutes but that 2 or 3 minutes felt like forever.  But it gave me something to focus on while Jill sewed me back up and delivered the placenta (came out quick).  I got a grade 2 tear and two labial tears.  Who knew you could tear there?  Sara said I didn't tear until his shoulders came out.  Almost made it unscathed.

As soon as he was deemed ready (he got 9 and 9 Apgar score) they passed him back to me. I cannot express the immediate connection of love we had.  He is so calming and brings such peace.  Truly he is a little miracle.  He was born at 4:35 am on Thursday, July 2, 2015.  8 lbs. 3 oz.  21 inches long and 36 cm head.  Larger than average in every account.  But truly, there are no words to describe how I feel about Grant.  He is so beautiful, so sweet, so calming, so peaceful, so pure, so perfect, and I am so blessed to be his mom.  I pray for guidance from Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ via the Holy Ghost to help me raise him in the manner I should.  Because parenthood is an enormous responsibility.  And I hope we are up to the task.  Sometimes I just sit and stare at him while he sleeps and think, we made that.  We made him.  He is ours for eternity.  If Derek wasn't reason enough to keep my covenants and live the gospel, I tell you what, he is.  I will do anything for Grant.  Anything.

Our first family picture.

Our Story: Part 2

Now for the happier part of the saga.

Summer 2014.  My mom heard from a co-worker about a foundation called Footsteps for Fertility.  They had a 5k in which you could have the possibility of winning a free round of IVF or a $5000 fertility treatment grant.  All you had to do, was build a team.  The bigger the team, the more times our names went into the pot.  And as you all know, we were shameless.  I think I contacted almost every single person I know and asked for them to join our team.  Because of that, we had the biggest team.  Because of that + the sweet prayers of my then 4 year-old niece (I truly attribute so much to those two.  I feel like children have a quicker and closer connection to the Savior and Heavenly Father,) we won a $5000 fertility treatment grant.  (My niece prayed THAT morning that we would win.)

I can't say how sweet it felt to have so much support.  People came out of the woodwork.  It was more than family and close friends.  Truly, I can't think of anything more kind anyone has ever done for me/us or ever could.

So, we had the marathon coming up.  So we decided to start treatment after the marathon was over.  So we ran and then I called my Dr. to get the party started.  (PS: IVF is NOT a party.)

So, we made our plan.  My last negative test was in September (race was Labor Day weekend), it was now mid-October.  So, my Dr. told me to take one last test, just in case, HA, and then fill my prescription for birth control.  (Step 1 in IVF process.)

So, I went to the store.  I peed on the stick.  Stick said No-way Jose.  I filled the prescription.  I started the pill.  And all I can say is HORMONES.  Wow.  WAY worse than any fertility drug I had tried so far.  I had tried some intense stuff.  Much more than clomid.  That stuff aint got nothin' on me.

So, we had opted to do a program where you insure your procedure to result in a live birth.  This requires extra testing and is a few $K more.  But hey, when you are already spending that much money, why not be sure it is going to work?  Because if it works, it is worth it.  If it doesn't work, we got 89% of our money back.  Either way, we win.

So, I was 2 weeks into the pill.  Crazy emotional.  Crying for no reason.  Terrifying my husband.  And was at the Dr. (alone) for one of the extra tests I had to do.  Before any procedure, they ALWAYS test your urine, just in case.  So I gave them a sample, went in the exam room, and got in the stirrups (ladies you know what I mean).  And my Dr. was taking FOREVER to come in.  So finally she pops her head in and announces, "We aren't going to be doing the procedure today..."  And I ask, "Why?"  She smiles and says, "Because you're pregnant."  It was one of those jaw dropping moments where you can't speak.  All I remember saying is, "That's impossible."  And she says, "I know.  I tested your urine twice just to make sure I wasn't mistaken."  And she holds up 2 positive pregnancy tests.

I was in shock.  I think it took me awhile to even cry because I was so shocked.  But we had the ultrasound equipment there, so we took a peek and sure enough, there was a little black dot.  And craziest part....I was 6 weeks pregnant.  I had only been on birth control for 2 weeks.  Which means my pregnancy test was faulty and I was already pregnant.

I got pregnant 3 weeks after winning that grant.  I ran the marathon pregnant.  Maybe that is what made him hold on.

But what I think is that A. all our prayers and fasting and paying our tithing and living the way we should was paying off.  B. Koda  C. my witch Dr (nutritionist) and E (most important) my niece fasting.  When we told our family, my sister told me how in September before the race, my then 9 year-old niece did a FULL fast for Derek and I.  Isn't that sweet?  I am telling you, direct connection to heaven.

But yes.  I was pregnant.  We didn't tell anyone until after the 1st trimester was over.  After everything we had been through.  It seemed safest.  But I feel so blessed.  I was sick, but not terribly sick.  I never threw up.  Just wished I could.  I ate nothing but toast with pb and applesauce, oatmeal, bananas, and saltine crackers for over a month.  But that is okay.

I don't want to brag and knock on wood, but being pregnant has been great.  Sure I can't do everything I used to.  Climbing went from leading to top-rope, to no more once it got uncomfortable.  I dropped my running to only 5-6 miles 4x a week max.  Now I max at 3 miles 3-4x a week.  But hey.  I am 38 weeks pregnant and still running.  (Thank you belly support belt.)  My energy has been great.  My hair is thicker.  I feel strong.  I haven't had any weird cravings (much to Derek's chagrin.  He really wanted me to crave meat.)  I am still vegan.  I sleep well, if you count waking 2-3x a night to pee as good.  The only bad part was when I got a nasty chest cough for a month that would not go away and I popped a few ribs out of place from coughing.  THAT sucked.  So painful.  I was really worried it would never go away. But it did.  Now I am just ready for it to not be 100 degrees outside and to hold this baby boy in my arms and not in my belly.  So now we wait.

Birth Story to come.

Our Story: Part 1

It has taken me a long time to write this because I felt like I needed to find the perfect words to describe our journey while still being respectful to friends of our's who are still in the same situation we have been blessed to leave behind.

This life is full of pits, mountains, and the spaces between.  It is what we choose to do with the landscapes our life's path throws at us that shapes us into the people we need to be.  Challenge yields strength, patience, understanding, endurance, humility, faith, and love.  Have we prayed?  Yes.  Have we begged?  Yes.  Have we cried?  Countless tears.  Have we been angry?  More than anybody could know.  Have we doubted? Yes. Have we struggled?  Yes.  Was it worth it?  Definitely.  Sure, we wish our journey wasn't as long as it was.  But it has strengthened us individually and as a couple in ways that we never could have done ourselves and reinforces the fact that we are not the Captain of our lives.  We aren't even First Mate.  We are sailors.  And sometimes sailors think they know better than the Captain, but they don't see the big picture.  The Captain, who is our Heavenly Father, and the First Mate, who is our Savior, Jesus Christ, know the big picture.  They know that our ship can withstand the storm we are going through.  They know we may have to take detours to get to the destination we desire.  But they will get us there.  All we have to do is trust them.

Sounds pretty easy.  It isn't.  Because in those stormy moments when you want to give up and plead for the storm to cease and it doesn't stop...those moments suck.  I won't sugar coat it.  They are really hard.  And everyone has their perfect storm.  Everyone has or will at some point in their life experience the eye of the storm.  But there is always calm after the storm.  There is always a rainbow after rain.  There is always light after the darkest of nights.  We just have to remember that.

So to start at the beginning, let us rewind 3 years to 2011.  We had been married for almost 2 years and decided we were ready to start trying to have a baby.  I had been having thoughts for months that we should start trying, but I was my headstrong stubborn as an ox self and told myself, 'No.  We haven't even been married two years.  Derek just started PT school.  I do not want to rush into this.'  So I kicked the can down the road for a few months.  Do I regret that?  Every day.  What if I missed my chance?  But no sense in dwelling on could haves and should haves because that brings nothing but pain and anger. 

So, November 2011, I give into the promptings I have been having and Derek's pleadings.  We stop birth control.  I never cycled again.  All you ladies may think, that sounds great.  Not great when you are trying to have a baby.  I had read that sometimes it takes a few months for your body to regulate itself after coming off birth control.  So we were patient and we waited.  And it never came back.  So in June of 2012, I went to my lady Dr. and told her what was going on.  She put me on some meds to "jump start" my cycle.  Nothing happened...she couldn't figure me out.  So I got referred to the University Center for Reproductive Medicine up at the U of U.  My R.E. (reproductive endocrinologist), Dr. Erica Johnstone, was amazing.  But that could be a whole other post.

So in August of 2012 we go to work.  We do tests.  We find out I have hypothyroidism.  Okay.  That is easily treated.  We thought that if we could my thyroid under control we may have some success.  Nope.

We tried weight gain.
We tried cutting back exercise.
We tried supplements.

Nothing was working.

So bring on the fertility drugs.  Once you start a fertility drug, you have to have an ultrasound a week later to check how things are developing in your lady parts.  The first one was invasive.  After what seems like the 1000th one, I could care less who takes a peek. 

Testing went on.  More fertility drugs.  Month after month was a negative pregnancy test.  In addition to my two R.E.'s (in 2 states), I saw multiple dieticians, acupuncturists, nutritionsits, sports med doctors.  Nothing.  You name it.  We did it.  In 2 states.  Drugs.  Shots.  Tests.  Trials.  "Surgeries", IUI's.  It sucked.  Every  month was a failure.

After all these tests and one miscarriage from an implantation that my Dr. said, "Wasn't right from the beginning," we had to make a decision.  IVF or adoption?  We started to explore both.  We opted to wait on adoption until we were actually in our house (June 2014) and unfortunately LDS Family Services stopped offering adoption services.  Dang.  That left us with IVF.

So now it is June of 2014.  It has been 2.5 years.  During this time we ahve experienced a wide variety of emotions.  Turly, the grieving process is real.  Some people would say, 'You haven't lost anything because we never had a child.'  After I mentally punch that person in the face, I kindly remind them that every momemnt of every day I am reminded of the most righteous desire of our hearts being lost.  An opportunity of a lifetime gone.  The reason we came to this earth denied us.  The knowledge that my body doesnt' work and modern medicine can't figure out why.  Then I smile and say, "But it's okay.  Let's talk about your awesome life"

But the grieving process is real.

1st there is denial and isolation: which I did for a long time.  I didn't even tell my family we had been trying until we were over a year into this entire process.  Only we knew.  We had no emotional outlet.  Nobody to lean on except the Lord.  But I didn't do that as well as I should have.  What can I say?  I am stubborn and prideful.  Admitting this wa the greatest defeat.  Admitting this was the ultimate sign of weakness.  So I kept it in, and this lead to step 2.

2nd there is anger.  I think I spent the most time in this stage.  Although it was secret and I hid it pretty well, I felt like I was on a continuum.  I would move past my anger, but fall back into it at the drop of a hat.  There were days when I wanted to punch every pregnant person in the face.  Every time I saw a cutesy pregnancy announcement, or gender reveal announcement on fb, I wanted to hurl my computer or my phone across the room.  Sometimes I did throw the phone...

Derek was a lot less angry than me.  Either that or he hid it from me better than I could hide my anger from him.  And that was helpful.  He was the calm and sane half of the relationship and kept me from lashing out and being arrested for wanting to assault a pregnant person.  (Not really.  Just emotionally.) I just could not understand why two people who are doing everything they can, are healthy, are responsible, are able to take care of the child, and love the child, and provide the child with all its needs were being denied the ability to be parents.  Especially when so many people in this world should not be parents.  Those are the people I wanted to punch.

3rd there is bargaining.  It doesn't work.  No point.  I figured that one out pretty quick.  But looking back I truly learned that even when I felt alone and like God wasn't listening, He was.  Looking back, I really learned a lesson in patience and humility.  Because you cannot "bargain" with the Lord.  All you can do is exactly what it says in Isaiah 40:31 "But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint."  In the moments of crisis, I did not feel like I had the strength of an eagle, but looking back, I did.  Or else I would have given up long ago.

4th Depression: As someone who works in the field of mental health, I do not want to lessen the effects of depression.  It is real.  I did not have it.  Was I depressed?  Yes.  But not with depression.  After any type of life changing/traumatic event it is normal to experience deep sadness.  Worthlessness?  Broken? Alone?  Abandoned?  Full of doubt?  Scared?  Sad?  All of the above.  But it would come and go in waves.  Like the anger.

5th Acceptance: This stage is elusive.  I would feel like I got there, and then revert back to anger or sadness.  But once I truly made it was summer of 2014.  I think getting Koda, our dog, truly helped because I had someone to channel my love and nurturing into.  Never has there been a more loved dog than ours.  And it is strange, because once we started making some big life decisions/changes: permanent jobs, bought a house, bought a dog....things started to change.

Check out Part 2 for the happy part of this story

St. George Marathon

Every year since 1990, my dad has run the St. George Marathon, with the exception of 2006 because of some crazy medical stuff that happened that summer.  He is an animal.

Nobody would believe it now, but growing up I hated running.  I thought it was the most stupid sport in the world and I couldn't understand why my dad and sister loved it.  This was marathon #5 for us.  I got Derek hooked, enough so that he will run them when I am injured and can't.  (Insert sad face...)

We trained hard.  We trained smart.  We moved to SLC which = running LOTS of hills.  And it paid of because.....

WE ARE GOING TO BOSTON!

For those of you who aren't into running, qualifying for the Boston Marathon is a big deal.  The Boston Marathon was the first marathon established in the USA and is now 118 years old.  The only way to get into it is to qualify, or donate obscene amounts of money.  You can't just sign up and get in via raffle.  You have to qualify and even then sometimes you don't get in.

Anyway.  Derek has qualified before.  Last year I was 25 seconds off my qualifying time.  Not this year.  I don't mean to brag, but we crushed our times.

Derek needed a 3:05:00 to qualify.  He ran a 2:57:56!!  That is an average of 6:46 minutes/mile for 26.2 miles.  He is amazing.

I needed a 3:35:00 to qualify.  I ran a 3:23:50!!  That is an average of 7:46 minutes/mile for 26.2 miles.
And something I didn't expect was getting 8th place in the Women's 25-29 division.

 I won't lie.  I felt really good until mile 24.  That is when my legs started to feel that I had been running for 3 hours.  That is when I saw someone holding a sign that said, "All walls have doors."  That is all I needed.  I went through the door in the wall I was hitting and I finished.   I wanted to die at the end.

Derek did some PT on me right after I finished.  This is me trying to follow his instructions for him....

Wedding

Derek's best friend since the 7th grade, Mr. James Alexander Marshall, got hitched this month to, Sierra Debbenham.  It was the most beautiful wedding I have ever been to.  It was on the lawn of the Hobble Creek Lodge, beautiful ceremony, with a 4 string quartet, and his sister singing.  The reception was beautiful complete with crepe bar, mock-tinis, and other beautiful food, dancing, music via the Marshall family, and toasts.

It was awesome.  It was fancy.  It was fun.  Here is to a lifetime of happiness to James and Sierra.

Me and the best man.  Doesn't he look slick in a tux?

Sierra smashing an entire pie in James' face.  It was awesome.

Fall Update

This summer has been a busy one.  River trips.  Camping trips.  Family reunions.  Boating.  Running.  Hiking.  Adventures.  House stuff.  Working.  Koda.  It has been crazy.

But here are a few things we have done this fall and by fall I mean September.

Hiking with the pup.
He is getting to be a good little hiker, as long as it isn't too long of a trail.  He gets super excited when he isn't on a walk in our neighborhood or Sugarhouse Park.

A few dog friendly favorites near us are Ensign Peak (nice and short)

Ferguson Canyon: short, fun, great climbing we need to explore later.  Koda is great at navigating getting up the trail, hopping up rocks etc.  But he is even better at getting down.  He will race Derek down the trail, dodging rocks etc. and he is fast.  And then he will stop, look back, wait for me, and then run again.  All on his own accord.  So funny and so cute.

We love this sign.

Battle Creek Falls in Pleasant Grove.  We did this hike with our friends, Nicki and Ty, and their lab, Hank.  Super fun to see those two together.  Hank is 100% lab and a spaz and Koda was just trying to keep up and yipping at him as to say, "Hey.  Hey.  Notice me.  Play with me."  Hank didn't even notice.

Message Board

One thing Derek and I have struggled to agree on/find for our new house is a message board.  You know, those cute boards with slots for mail and other random stuff and a chalk board and a cork board. I see them on Pinterest all the time.  But Derek has set firmly that we were not making our own because, "Pinterest projects never turn out the same.  It won't look good and I want it to look good."  So we have searched high and low again and again since June for one of these boards.  But they run around $150 for a nice one.  No way were we going to pay that much.  So finally, Derek let me show him a board I had pinned and he agreed to make it.  Wahoo!

Anyway, the site where we found the project is called Shanty Chic.  If you want to make a similar board, you should check out her site.  She gives you step by step instructions, all the dimensions, etc.  She isn't a blogger that I swear leaves out an important step so your project never looks as good.

So anyway, this is our project.

It is great.  Now all Koda's stuff isn't EVERYWHERE and we can always find our keys.  And I don't have to make a million to-do lists because I always loose them...

It started with making a plan and heading to Home Depot.  Like she says in her blog, try to get left-over cuts of wood if you can.  We went at the end of the day and it had been picked clean.  But that will cut your costs dramatically.

So, step 1: get your wood, wood glue, hooks, chalk board spray paint, ban saw (Derek was really excited to make that purchase.  As was I because now I get to make more projects), and have them cut your wood.

Step 2: Print out patterns for the fancy cuts (we had to go to the library because our printer broke and we never got a new one)

Step 3: Go home and start building.

I was in charge of spray painting the hard board into a chalk board and applying the wood glue.  Derek got to use the fancy saw and put it all together.  Only fair right.

Step 4: Stain it, we used the same stain we used when we re-finished our table and chair so they match.

Step 5: Finishing touches, hang it up, and use it.