Why I'm the luckiest.

Prior to JJ going on his mission, I briefly explained to him that I have PMMD (pre-menstrual mood disorder) and a bit of seasonal depression in the winter months. He lovingly kissed my hand and assured me that nothing could change how he felt about me. 

After his mission, and after getting engaged, I brought it up again-- just to make sure he remembered. This time, I told him that the depression was more serious. In fact, I had really been diagnosed with manic depression, and it always heightened the week prior to my period. I was medicated and had been diagnosed at the age of 13. He again, took my hand, and assured me that nothing could change his love for me.

About a month after we got engaged, he witnessed one of my episodes. for the first time. I tried so hard to suppress how I was feeling but couldn't hold it in. I started panicking in the car, the anxiety attack came fast, tears coming on, and I knew that I was about to spiral into a depressive episode. He carried me from the car, up to my bedroom--- dead weight, me. Bawling in his arms, shaking uncontrollably. My dad and mom sat in the living room, saw us walk in and knew immediately what was going. 

I heard my dad say, "damn it Genny, she's going to ruin everything. He's going to run." My mom followed JJ up the stairs as he gently laid me on my bed.

He held my hand, and laid by my side. He told me to focus on him and to breathe slowly and that he loved me unconditionally. He stroked my hair and within minutes, I was silently laying on my side. Little did I know, my mom looked on with tears in her eyes---10 years she had been the one to calm me during my episodes, but she had been honorably replaced. She closed the door and JJ fell asleep next to me and told me he loved me and couldn't wait to be my husband.

I felt so much guilt, embarrassment, and fear--- although my dad didn't think I had heard him, I had. I was now fearful that the boy of my dreams was going to get cold feet and leave me. I just KNEW in my heart that he was thinking, "Those episodes are too hard to handle, I didn't know she was THAT sick." I waited for the worst, but he stayed.

The thing about manic depression is that it doesn't last for months, or even for weeks. You get better. Even the days when I feel like its never going to pass, it passes. EVERY. TIME.

I wish I could say this was an isolated episode and that my happily ever after was blissful and I was never depressed again, nor did I need to continue taking my medication. But, this would be like telling a person with diabetes to ditch their insulin pump after getting married.  

This is a trial I have been given, I prayed and prayed for years that Heavenly Father would just take this away from me; set me free. But, this isn't fair. This is my cross to bare, this is my lesson to learn, this is my hardship . . . and I will deal with it my entire life.

Three months after we got married, we were living in El Paso, Texas. I was very sick. I was isolated, afraid, and I had never felt so alone. JJ was gone all day, and many times he was without his phone. I called him one day, and told him he needed to come home. Instead of asking why, he told me he would be there in 30 minutes. . . he would speed as fast as he could to be by my side.

When he opened the door, he found he curled up on the floor, sobbing in sorrow. He wrapped his arms around me and he cried with me. He told me he wished that he could take it all away. He drew a bath for me (can't count the # of times he has done this), and helped me into the tub. He washed my hair, and sat beside the tub and told me how much he loved me and how lucky he was. He made us lunch and watched a movie with me in our bed. I felt guilty again, and I told him:

"You can leave me if you want to, I would understand." He then told me that he would NEVER leave me, and that his love for me only grows with each passing day. 

Time after time; he has started the bubble baths, cleaned the house, massaged my feet, held my hand, held me in his arms during an episode, brushed my hair, and always. . . . he tells me he loves me and that I am his best friend.

Depression is real. Its not a joke. Its not something to be taken lightly. Its not something I should have to hide either. THIS IS REAL. This is my life. 

I don't know what I would do without JJ's love. He has blessed my life in so many ways. He has saved me, he has made me better. He brings me so much joy.

I am the luckiest.

I tested GBS positive//

Could this pregnancy get any weirder?

I just found out I'm gbs-positive. For those not familiar with what this is, take a gander here:
http://americanpregnancy.org/pregnancy-complications/group-b-strep-infection/

THANKS TO MY ANXIETY, I am on an anxiety overdrive right now.

So, doc, let me get this straight. Not only do I have vasovagal syncope (totally uncommon, btw), I am also gbs-positive. EYE ROLL. Only 25% of women test positive for this? Aren't I lucky.

My momma is a labor and delivery nurse, and she assures me that this is not a big deal and not to freak out about it. But I had a PLAN. My mom and I were going to labor (like how I say my mom and I) hard for as long as we possibly could AT HOME, and then make the 12 minute drive to the hospital and probably meet JJ there because he's a full-time student and most likely he will be in class. By this time, we would hook me up to the IV and get an epidural ready in case I decide to not do natural.

Wellp, now. . . I have to have two rounds of antibiotics administered through an IV (which could take up to 4 hours) and if that doesn't happen, then it increases the risk of little sweet baby Carter being GBS positive which could mean that he would be possibly spending time in the NICU hooked up to his own IV :( Noooooooooo.........

Also, mandatory that I stay 48 hours at the hospital. Instead of the usual 24.

Let me tell you something, I am a wimp. Like, no, I really am. Go ahead and laugh. . . or maybe wait until I tell you this part:

So, I'm so scared of needles. (just typing the "n-word" makes me want to get into the fetal position) That I have had a conversation about the "IV" probably 68 times with my mom. We have had to come up with an elaborate, written-out plan because if not, I would probably hypervenilate everyday.

1. Anxiety pill prior to getting IV
2. Charge nurse 1-time stick in for the IV: She will be forewarned NOT to tell me I have nice veins, not to tell me I'll feel just a little pinch, not to check each vein individually, and DEFINITELY tell me "we are almost done", even if she has to lie.
3. I also will have sedation medication given to me before receiving the IV
4. JJ holding my hand the whole time and my mom talking to me about Hawaii....the whole time.

Ask me if I'm nervous about the contractions or the epidural? or even pooping during labor? N.O.

Its that HUGE IV NEEDLE THAT REALLY DOESN'T EVEN HURT THAT MUCH that is consuming all my thoughts.


So, anyway. I'm going to go get a paper bag now and try to calm myself. K BYYYYYYE

{Weird} Post-Break Up Manifestation

Whenever I'm laying in bed, and my sweet husband has packed away the laptop in preparation for his classes the following day, I write my blog posts in the "notes" section on my iPhone. I had an epiphany the other night while scrolling through my Facebook feed. I came across a guy who I had a fling with for hmmm maybe a good month in high school; he was announcing his relationship status as "engaged" on fb. I smiled and looked at the picture, he looked very happy and I was genuinely happy for him---even though he once dumped me over a text message LOLZ. .  and this is how this entry all came into play. Its a bit of a ramble, but I think the intentions here are good. I'm not a bitter, scornful "dump-ee," and I'm confident enough in the strength of my marriage that I feel I can write this post. I feel like maybe I can help someone. Maybe that someone is you. So here we go . . . .

WHY the heck is a happily married woman deciding to write a blog post about break-ups? Maybe it's the pregnancy hormones talking, or the insomnia at 2 AM but hear me out because this post is important and someone needs it. Yes, YOU need it. The girl who still thinks about her ex-boyfriend occasionally and wonders, "Why wasn't I good enough? What did I do wrong? Why didn't he stay with me? Why wasn't I the one" I used to be THAT girl... Obsessing about being "dumped"; I used to think that I wasn't good enough.Not good enough for ANYONE. So sit back, read this entry, and hopefully you can click out of my blog tonight with a sense of relief and confidence and a new-found smile because listen....

YOU. WERE. ENOUGH. Scratch that, you ARE enough.

My mom once told me that everyone needs to be dumped at least once in their life in order to experience true, heart-wrenching rejection and thus be able to love another so wholeheartedly that you never take the relationship for granted. I shook my head at her, I cried, I hit my hand on the table, and I said, "Mom, what do you know about heartbreak?" In the most patient, loving voice, she could muster. . . . she proceeded to tell me a story that made the hairs on my neck raise up, my eyes softened, and I felt an intense amount of love for my mom. She really did understand me.

Grateful for my mom's bravery and courage in telling her experience, I still wondered, " But do you have to go through such excruciating pain in order to get there?" No, I'm not talking about your boyfriend from 7th grade who you wrote notes to in 6th period and hung out at the football games with. (SIDENOTE: if you're dwelling on a relationship that lasted less than a month, and occurred in middle school-- this post probably isn't for you. Sorry, I'm not being mean. Well kind of, but again, I mean well)

I'm talking about true, 100% honest heartbreak. Maybe it was your first love who went away to college and long distance proved harder than planned; maybe it was a fiancé who you dreamed of spending forever with, only to find yourself ringless and still in love with your runaway groom; maybe it was the boy you loved for 11 years and finally had the courage to express your feelings to and they told you that you were too late. Whatever it be, it was never about YOU.

I've seen so many of my friends (and myself) go through heartbreak after heartbreak. And even if it seem as though they are mad as a hornet, deep down I know they are thinking, "but where did I go wrong? Why am I not good enough for him?"

Recognize this guy?

 Oh yeah, it's my husband circa 2010; just a few months before I met him. (I'm going to be so in trouble for this, but here it goes) JJ was the FIRST guy to ever break my heart. In his white Altima, on a cold Fall night (nearly six years ago), in front of the Kerr Hall girls' dorms. . . . He dumped me. This was not a light "dumping", because a week or so prior to this I had told him I was falling in love with him; which as you know, is the most vulnerable situation you can put yourself in. I had been fooled by a boy(note that I said boy, not man-- not at this point in our story) with the prettiest brown eyes, the best jawline, and the most charming personalty. That night, he told me he liked me but he was still in love with his high school girlfriend. I couldn't say I was shocked, but I was hurt. I left the car, my heart on the concrete, and I cried. I cried hard. I walked, alone, all the way uphill to the temple and sat on the curb and asked the Lord, "why? why doesn't he want me?"

Fast forward about 11 months:
Homeboy was back in my life, this time I was more hesitant. Constantly, I told him to leave me alone and focus on his mission and that I still had feelings for him but the ship had sailed. He wouldn't give up, and long story short-- we are married now. And all is happiness and I'm so in love with him.

We talked about the break-up a few times before getting back together, when we were a couple again, and even a little after his mission; I told him he had made me so insecure and I felt like I could never be good enough. I flat out asked him, "why did you break up with me?" (it felt good to be able to ask this question) He told me:
1. It wasn't you, I wasn't happy where I was in life.
2. I went back to what I thought was "comfortable". I went back to what I thought would make everyone happy.
3. I didn't allow myself to see you like I see you now.
4. I didn't think I was good enough for you, so I settled.
5. The timing wasn't right, I needed to prepare for my mission and I needed to be worthy of YOU.

Now, you have to know my husband. He is VERY honest (almost too honest) and he wouldn't say this to me unless he was being genuine. I finally accepted the fact that it was never about me.

He isn't the only guy who has broken my heart, sadly. But we won't delve into that because the Internet is scary and who knows who actually reads my b l o g? Plus, none of those heartbreaks matter to me anymore, you learn to block out memories and move forward.

There will come a time where, you too, will be able to block out the memories. You'll be able to look back and pick up on the red flags and think, "Sooo that's when it all started..." It may take your REAL LIFE Prince Charming (or maybe just the next relationship you commit to) to make you fully understand that you were enough. Unfortunately, people change-- sometimes change is good.  Change is what helps us to continue to grow and learn. But the error occurs when a couple grows in separate directions, that's what messes everything up.

I have a really good friend. In my eyes, she's the WHOLE package; she's an RM, she's adorable, holds down a job AND goes to dental hygiene school, she's beautiful. . , and she's in Provo, Utah which is supposed to be like THEE destination place for dating. Yet, she's shockingly single.

Of course it hurts. It hurts when you're not getting asked out, but your roommates are and you wonder, "WHAT THE CRAP IS WRONG WITH ME?" Again, nothing is wrong with you. Maybe it's the timing, maybe you're supposed to be working on YOU right now, maybe your husband is in Africa working at an orphanage on a study abroad trip. We just don't know. I mean, look at my situation-- this immature boy suddenly turned into a mature man and came waltzing back into my life. I was hell-bent on never even giving him the time of day. When you look at yourself in the mirror, you see yourself brushing your hair and putting on your makeup-- you don't see the way you look when you laugh or your facial expressions when you're surprised, happy, or you witness something that touches your soul. You're too hard on yourself. You don't see yourself like the world sees you.

IT WILL ALL WORK OUT. BE PATIENT. KEEP DOIN' YOU. HOLD YOUR HEAD HIGH. YOUR HAPPILY EVER AFTER WILL BE HERE BEFORE YOU KNOW IT.

How does someone so small, hold my heart so tightly? {Letters from mommy to baby boy}

Over the past few months, I've written a series of letters for Carter to read someday. If he doesn't appreciate it, at least his wife will. At my baby shower, JJ's mom gave me a teddy bear that was given to him as a newborn and it was so precious--it truly touched my heart. I hope that Carter's wife is as big of a softie as I am and will love looking at these letters someday. They have been such a comfort to me, and have almost been like a journal.
***********

For my son:

I've been dreaming about you since I can remember;

 Wondering what you'll look like,  imagining our first December together.

Daddy and I talk about family traditions, I get scared about future prom dates and if you'll ever break a bone;

When I first found out about you, I was so excited-- I couldn't wait, I told daddy over the phone.

Daddy was playing football, and mommy was about to graduate from college, I was so excited.  His # I quickly dialed.

Your daddy's face lit up, and for the next several moments.. We said nothing, just smiled.

Pregnancy was hard at first, I was sick all the time. I cried a lot and daddy patted my back;

But an ultrasound and seeing your little body, put me right back on the happy track.

The sickness went away, and a little bump began to show.

 Daddy broke his leg in a game; Tests, Surgery, AND we found out you were a little boy, all the same day.

Carter, we already love you so much. Your name is very special, just wait until you meet Uncle Mckay.

We wish you were coming today! But we will be patient and wait;

I promise we will try our hardest to be our very best. This is all very new to us; this extraordinary quest.

We are nervous, but mostly really happy. You came at a time when mommy needed you most. We can't wait to see who you become.

Already half way there. Thank you for choosing us, son.

We LOVE you,
Mommy and Daddy
{November 1, 2015}

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dearest Carter,

You are such an active little guy. We are over half way now (22 weeks, 4 days); it is the week before Thanksgiving. I can't wait to have you here in my arms and to celebrate the holidays with you in the future. I constantly feel you moving around. You move around a lot when I put my seatbelt on or when I lay on my right side, both of those things seem to make you a little grumpy. The other night I woke up screaming because I had a nightmare that I left you in a hot car in the desert, and I had another nightmare that I didn't feed you for two weeks; daddy told me that will never happen. I just want to be the perfect mommy for you. I'm horrible at taking my prenatal vitamins but I try to eat really healthy! I'm so happy we are having a baby boy, your daddy is especially happy-- he says he can't wait to hold you on his chest and make you smile! You already bring so much joy to our lives. We wonder what you'll look like, daddy and I both had really light brown hair when we were little but it got darker as time passed-- maybe that's how you'll be too! Aunt Julie is so thrilled for you to be here, she sends me sweet texts about the outfits she's going to buy you. I can't wait until you're here!

Love,

Mommy

{November 16, 2015}

*********************

My sweet son,

Daddy and I are at the hospital right now, he is getting an X-Ray on his leg. We hope he will be walking in just a couple of weeks! Before Dad went in for his X-Ray, I told him that you are currently playing the drums inside my tummy. You are so active, little man! You love to dance and shake and be silly already. I can't wait to teach you how to dribble a basketball. I get so nervous sometimes, thinking about having to leave you in daycare; I don't want to do it-- I want to stay home with you!! But daddy is in college and mommy is a teacher, and it's just a sacrifice we have to make for the future. Plus, I know Grandma Gustin is going to fall in love with you and won't want to let you out of her sight! Dad says, "I love you son, see you soon." He says you're going to be taller than he is! You're about the size of an ear of corn right now :) I love you baby Carter, more than anything in the world.

Love,

Mommy

{November 17, 2015}

*********************

Sweet little Carter,

First of all, I just want to tell you that mommy loves you so much. I love feeling you move inside of me-- I already feel so close to my baby boy.

I have been crying a lot today because I am sad. I interviewed for a teaching job last week; Fourth grade. Mommy's "dream job". Unfortunately, even though I felt really good about the interview, I didn't get the job. I just found out today...I cried so hard, I made myself throw up-- all over grandma's car! :(

Your daddy is a sweetheart, he gave me lots of hugs and told me he was relieved that I didn't get the job because he thinks it will be hard to leave you when you are only six weeks old.. Which is true. You know, baby boy, you weren't exactly in Mommy's plans. We wanted you to be a part of our little family of course, but we weren't expecting you to come so soon.. But guess what? I'm so glad you are because you and I are going to be little buddies. I'm going to take care of you and love you with my whole heart and soul. Thanks for reminding me that Heavenly Father is in charge, not me. Love you, Carter.

Love, Mommy

[12/9/15]

***************************

Carter,

Only 11 more weeks in Mommy's tummy, can you believe it? You have grown so much, daddy and I laugh because whenever Justin Beiber songs come on, (especially the song, "What do you mean?") you start moving around a lot: you're a little dancer. I gave daddy a statue of a little boy and a father for Christmas, he loves it; we also got an outfit for you to wear home from the hospital! You are my little man, I worry about you every day. I'm so excited to meet you and be your mother. Thanks for being so sweet, I love our bond and the fact that I can feel you kick and move every single day. I love you, son.

Mommy

{12/18/15}

**************************

Baby Son,

It's 2 AM and I just got done eating a chilled apple with extra crunchy peanut butter. Mommy loves anything crunchy these days! My favorites are jack in the box tacos and ice. Ice is Mommy's biggest craving. I used to be so skinny... Not so much anymore, but that's okay. :)

You have definitely moved positions in my tummy and my head doesn't know how to handle it. In fact, I had to quit my job teaching Kindergarten due to being lightheaded and passing out. I cry a lot and it's definitely scary but I know you're worth it, Carter. I'm going to love you more than I've ever loved anyone or anything else (besides daddy) in my entire life. You're a dream come true. The tears and pain will all be worth it.

I love you little buddy,

Love, momma

{1/21/16}

***********************

Carter,

Today we had a baby shower all for YOU. We scored some awesome gifts, mommy is so excited to dress you in your little outfits. Daddy is a football star and mom loves basketball, so most of your little outfits are sports related. I don't know what your dad will do if you don't like football. Just kidding baby, you be whoever you want to be. You already mean the world to us. You kick SO MUCH! It's crazy to see how active you are. 7 more weeks until you're in my arms.

Love,

Mama

[1/30/16]

***********************

Dearest baby boy,

Today is my birthday. I am 24 years old, and next month I will become your mother. I started out my birthday looking through an old box of photos from when I was born. Emotion overcame me as I reflected on the love I have for my own mother, she is my best friend in the entire world. I never truly understood how much she truly loved me, I've always known that I was loved by her, but I never comprehended the gravity of that love. This pregnancy has been hard, from throwing up with morning sickness to now the fainting spells-- I have been disheartened. I have wanted you to come now, now, now.. Instead of fully appreciating the small miracle within me. I know that when we meet, just a few weeks from now, I will feel love that I have never experienced before in my entire life. Every night, daddy laughs as I go into the bedroom where all your little things are and take our your clothes and blankets and smile and refold them again. I'm so excited to me your mommy, I love you son. I hope that I can be the best example to you and raise you in a home centered around the gospel. I want you to grow to me the best person you can be, I want you to serve a mission, go to college and marry a worthy LDS woman in the temple. I want all these things for you because I know these are the keys to bringing everlasting happiness. See you soon, baby boy. Thanks for making me a mother.

Love, Mommy

[2/12/2016]

************************

Baby son,

We are so close now. Today, I am 36 weeks, 2 days. I could basically have you NEXT week, and you would be fine. 37 weeks is considered full-term. My body feels different. I waddle like a duck now, which means you have most likely dropped. We can hardly wait to meet you, sweetheart. I was so lost when I found out I was pregnant with you, you found me. I sit in the room where all your things are for hours and smile at all your little clothes and blankets. I imagine I'm rocking you in the rocking chair for your nursery. Mommy is beyond excited to kiss her little man. Daddy is excited too, he has your crib painted and is working on painting your changing table. He also helped me to pick out some decorations for your nursery. You and daddy are going to be best friends, he makes me laugh so hard every day; he has given me such joy. We are a little scared to go from a family of two to a family of three but we are more excited than anything. Daddy works so hard; he is going to school full-time, working as a manager for DishOne TV, and is also training for football. I love his dedication and hard work and I know you're proud of him too. We can't wait to take you to all the football games. We love you son, and we want to give you the bets life possible. See you in a couple weeks.

Love,

Mom and Dad

{2/23/2016}

About a boy(s).

I thought I would share a post about both of my boys and kind of reflect back to when Jaje and I found out I was pregnant. I was picking out some pictures to put along with this post and I about fell into a puddle of tears because I love OUR story. I definitely regret not keeping up with my blog but I hope to make up for it now--in the 4th quarter of my pregnancy. I will also continue to blog (as much as I can) as a new mommy and all the adventures Carter Mckay, daddy, and I will be taking together. Sidenote: Yesterday, I had this small moment where I was like, "wait, do I still like the name Carter? What if he doesn't look like a Carter?" ha ha. . . .well, that was dumb because Carter has been his name since before we even knew we had a little peanut inside my tummy. The only name we have really been able to solidly agree on. And plus, I love the name Carter. Anyway. . . .here's "our story".

background:

I met Jared Jordan in high school, we were both juniors. Our high schools were not in the same division, but they were a short driving distance away from one another. It was basketball season, my team had just won the district championship and so, about seven of us, went to Applebee's to celebrate. We were giggly, slightly obnoxious, and overjoyed about our win, so the night was ours for the taking. Soon after sitting down and looking over the menu, we notice the Vallivue boys basketball team walk in. Well, their team was known for having some cuties-- especially a certain boy named JJ. I had heard his name often because one of my teammates (who wasn't there that night) had a HUGE crush on him and would bring him up at practice occasionally. JJ was an amazing athlete, , , , and I mean, hii, just look at him. Like really???

Long story short, feeling more confident than usual, we all wrote our names and numbers down on a napkin and had our waitress deliver it over to the table. Next thing we know, three guys are coming over to our table and asking us what our names were. I was the only one that got a text that night. AND IT WASN'T FROM JJ. . . it was from another kid who, around midnight, in the middle of our conversation-- asked me to "send a picture", I replied with, "Didn't you just see me?" and he said, "lol, yeah but you know." I sent him the most MODEST SUNDAY DRESSED picture of me at my grandpa and grandma's farm, with me holding a baby in my arms. And that was the end of that. Little did I know, my future husband had not text me because this other dingbat had called "dibs". 

Fast forward. . . . almost two years. I get this random text message, "Is this Genny from the Middleton girl's basketball team?" Yeah, slightly creepy. But it was the text that literally changed my life. I was smitten from day 1. 

We dated, broke up, then got back together two months before he left on his mission. 

I was absolutely heartbroken having to say goodbye to him for 2 long years, after he had stolen my heart so abruptly. He promised me it would be worth it, and I believed him wholeheartedly. With a few bumps along the way, WE MADE IT. We were engaged 3 weeks after I saw him at the airport on the day he came home from his mission, and married 4 months later. 

We were and still are the happiest couple, he is my best friend in the whole world. And life is so beautiful with him. 

But what about the other boy? You know, the one still growing inside of me. Let me tell you about that boy. 

In the Fall of 2014, I received a prompting that it was time to start trying for a family. I printed out conference talks about "family", at work, highlighted key points, and went to the temple, talked to my married friends about how they made it through college with kids. When I approached JJ about it, he just basically said he wasn't ready. That he would be okay if it happened, but wasn't sure he wanted to start trying so soon. I was a little hurt, but knew that it would be a wiser choice to WAIT until at least one of us was graduated. I would be finished with college the following July and I knew I could wait until then. . . so I pushed the thought aside. A few short months later, JJ signed with the College of Idaho to play football, and so we had this "ah-ha" moment of like, "yeah, no. we aren't ready." After he signed, my heart was both happy and also very, very, sad. I knew that JJ and I would have to be apart for a few months during the summer while I finished school and he started training for football with his team-- morning lifts, workouts, conditioning, football camp, etc. The thought ate at me for weeks until I thought I had accepted the fact that he would be leaving; after all, I still had 12 weeks with him.

Sure enough, June 1st came and I watched JJ pack up all of his things and drive away in his truck. I didn't understand how much this would affect me. We had gotten a kitty cat a few months before, and I knew she would bring me comfort but HELLO, nothing replaces your sweetheart. I was in the trenches of school, boy was it hard. I was used to having JJ there to support me and help me through it, and now he was gone and I panicked thinking, "I can't possibly do this without him."'

I hid my feelings for awhile, and we saw each other on the weekends, but every time he left. . . . I literally felt sick. A little background about me: I struggle with depression (surprise!--a lot more common than you would think) and severe anxiety. Every since I was a little girl, I have battled with separation anxiety. My parents would go on trips and when they would get back, I would be so mad at them, I wouldn't speak to them---even though I had missed them and cried every day, I WAS FIVE. Who gives their parents the silent treatment at 5 years old? I was slipping into a daze of depression and anxiety and medication was not working. I needed my husband but how could I possibly tell him that? He had, for the past year, let me live out my dream of becoming a certified teacher--he had given me wings to fly so how could I tell him that I needed him? It was selfish.

Then one day, I snapped. I had a really hard day at school--some concepts in one of my classes, I just wasn't fully grasping. I also needed to change the oil in my car. Thanks to my anxiety, I sometimes get shy in social settings or get really embarrassed easily; the idea of getting my oil changed, by myself, and risking looking stupid terrified me. I couldn't find the place my husband told me to go to and then I went in the wrong entrance and it gave me a full on anxiety attack. I went home, cried on my bed, and felt very low. The lowest of lows, in fact. I called my mom crying to try and explain to her how I was feeling, and (bless her heart, she didn't mean to hurt my feelings) said, "Genny, what is so hard about getting your oil changed?" It wasn't the oil change that pushed me over the edge, it was a mix of EVERYHING. That's when I full-on lost it. Next thing I remember, I was on the phone with 911 giving a detailed list of pills I had taken, and I awoke up to paramedics rushing me to the hospital in an ambulance. What had I done? This was all so foreign to me: I was a social, lovable, witty, giggly, active, girl. What had become of me? What was JJ going to think when he found out? Was I going to die? I quickly slipped into a deep sleep and don't remember anything about the hospital. I just remember (TMI, sorry) that I was on my period and I woke up one time extremely embarrassed that they had stripped me down into a hospital gown and.... yeah. 

I was still on my mom's cellphone plan and she was notified that 911 had been dialed off of my phone. The officer somehow (can't remember how) got the number to my husband and my mom and called both of them to tell them what happened. My poor husband was in shock, dismay, felt guilt, and drove as fast as he could to be with me. He told me it was the scariest moment of his life to receive that phone call and that he was the saddest he had ever been in his life, by far. He still tears up at the mention of it. I was out for about three days, those days are a blur, I don't remember much. I just remember being very out of it and throwing up a lot.

WHY am I telling you this? Because it's relevant, I promise you. Now more than ever, I needed my Savior Jesus Christ---even though my testimony felt shaken. I relied a lot on prayers of others, being with my family, and I took a week off of school to regroup. I cannot tell you how much it meant to me for my professors to be so kind and understanding to me. 

I realized that I had taken the pills as a form of "numbing" or a way to tell people close to me, "please help me, I am not well." I didn't want to die; I had a beautiful life. Some of you may be shocked, some of you may be thinking, "No, not her." But really, I was very sick. In fact, I was sick even after I had this experience. My family members took shifts taking care of me in Rexburg; I was never alone. That was the agreement my mom had made with the hospital, instead of having me admitted into the mental unit for further evaluation. My mom knew that this was out of my character-- I am so happy that she made that call. 

As I continued to struggle, I was afraid that I would relapse or that I would fail my classes. I continued to be depressed but this time I was more open about it. Everyone around me wanted to help. I had bad thoughts come to my head and I tried to push them out. This lasted for about two weeks (girls, are you catching on to the timeline here. . . ). . . and then I came home for a weekend and JJ and I had such a fun time. We camped in my parents backyard, went swimming, went on a bike ride, rode around downtown Boise. I remember thinking, "Genny, you're back. This is YOU." I sighed with relief. I'm back, I'm really back. I was smiling and happy again,. JJ took this picture of me and I remember saying, "that's a REAL smile."

After that day, I tackled my loads of homework and I was on fire again. I was going back to class, I was meeting deadlines, I was teaching with the passion and fire I had before, I was praying to Heavenly Father. Then four days later. . . . I nearly pass out at school (summer school--teaching third graders), and threw up like four times in the bathroom. "Must still be having the after-effects of the meds I took, it doesn't feel like the flu. But wait, I took the pills like 3 weeks ago. They're long gone from my system." I went home early that day, and pushed all the thoughts aside. I finished teaching summer school that week and now only had a few projects to focus on.

Since I was doing better, my family members weren't visiting as often, I was seeing a counselor on campus and talking to JJ on the phone as much as possible. One particular time, I was at the grocery store (this was now 3 days before graduation), and we were chatting. I casually said, "Hey, you know what. . . I'm 10 days late on my period." I expected silence or panic from the other end, but he replied with "Well, you're at the store, grab a pregnancy test." I was embarrassed and didn't want to buy one, risking possibly having someone I know see me. But reluctantly, I bought a test, thinking, "Nah, I'm not pregnant. There's no way." I promised him I would take the test in the morning, but I also told him I wouldn't tell him if I was pregnant until I was with him in PERSON and AFTER my graduation; I didn't want to stress myself out.

The next morning, I woke up and took the test. I didn't even look at the little windows, I went off to do something else. I came back and. . . "WHAT THE HECK!!!!" Sure enough, I was pregnant. I was in disbelief, what? how? I smiled to myself, thinking, "Lord, you planned this. This was all part of your plan. This was how you sealed the deal and concreted that I would be surely happy again and not try to waste this beautiful life away." A tear rolled down my face and I looked up and smiled, "I'm going to be a mother. My life has purpose. It's not about me anymore. It's about MY boys." (yep, I knew right away it was a boy. I knew it). I felt peace and assurance that NOW, more than ever, was the right time for me to be a mommy. I was elated, nervous, and overwhelmed with gratitude. I was already in love with this small little jelly bean.

I took two tests just to be sure, and then called JJ. Hmmm.... this would explain the fatigue and nausea. 

He answered the phone, totally clueless, his usual chatty self. He was telling me a story, when I said, "Can we facetime?" He said, "Yeah sure." As soon as I saw his face, I just blurted out, "HONEY I AM PREGNANT!!!!" He just stared at me, and said, "Are you sure?"

We both just smiled at each other, and couldn't believe it, honestly. We had planned to start trying in August of 2016-- but we understood that this was a BLESSING and that having a baby would bring us both such joy and peace. This was the Lord's plan all along. 

We decided to tell my parents on my graduation day. I told my mom first, just me and her. She started crying, she too understood the happiness this would bring into my life and the wholeness it would provide me with. 

So now, here I am. 4 weeks left to go. I've had a really rough pregnancy but I know that this is also part of the plan. Motherhood isn't a joke, its not easy, and I understand that more than ever.

I love my little son, and I can't wait to teach him and support him and watch him grow. What a journey it has been, , , and its all BECAUSE of my boys.

36

36 weeks today. Let's talk about pregnancy cravings, shall we?

ICE. I can't get enough. Nothing is more satisfying to me than crispy, semi-melted ice cubes. My sweet husband bought me a 7 pound bag of it like five days ago and it's already almost gone!

Jack n the box tacos with ranch. Need I say more? I limit this to like a once a month thing because I know they're bad for you.

Milk, milk, milk!!! We have gone through 4 gallons in the past week.

Cheesecake. This one has since faded, but for a solid week and a half, it was all I could think about.

Chilled apples. Strictly a first and second trimester craving. Funny thing is I hated apples before I got pregnant.

In the first trimester, I was sick everyday. But for some reason... I loved making refried bean burritos with cheese. It was the only thing I could keep down.


What about those non-edible cravings?! I have a small case of picca. I had it before my pregnancy too, but it's only increased since being pregnant. Prepare to be totally weirded out:

Chalk, rocks, soil, laundry soap, the smell of rain, my face lotion.

Man, pregnancy does some weird things to you!

What society tricked me into thinking...

thigh gaps
skinny legs
six pack
zero cellulite
long hair
blonde highlights
bleached teeth
tan skin
tons of dates

At 8 months pregnant, it's a wake up call to put on weight and then face yourself in the mirror every morning. I thought I was safe from the image society claims is desirable. I thought being pregnant meant that having a "bump" was ok-- in fact, beautiful. But here I am, scrolling through Instagram, when I see pictures of pregnant women who "are all baby". Meanwhile, my hips and thighs have expanded and my bum is about 3x as big. I get depressed, I want to throw my phone, my eyes tear up. . Why can't I look like Amber Fillerup?

All my life, I've compared myself to others. ALL MY LIFE. You would think that the approval of my sweet husband about my body would diminish the comparisons and help me feel more confident about what I looked like. But, constantly, I see pretty skinny girls and think-- "wow, I wish I looked like her." I was in the best shape of my life about three years ago. I was doing Crossfit workouts and playing basketball for hours upon hours every day. I went tanning, I dyed my hair, and still wondered why I didn't get asked out on dates as frequent as some of my friends and roommates. I would stand in front of the mirror before showering, even after working out for three hours, and I would punch the "fat" on my flat stomach. I would nearly gag in disgust at how "gigantic" my thighs were. Anytime that I got invited to swim, I would politely decline. I wanted to be a certain weight, that for my height, build, and condition of my knees was literally unattainable. I dated a guy who told me "if you would just lay off the sweets more..." Or, "you have no self control when it comes to junk food, that's why you can't lose the weight"... Or my personal favorite, "I'll give my wife six months to lose the baby weight..." For months and months, even now, I was scarred my those simple phrases he so easily threw at me. Because I felt like I wasn't enough, I didn't fit the mold, so how could I ever be enough for my husband?

Society tells us women how to look the part, how to win the hearts of guys and be envied by women who can't succeed in their goals. We are told how to look in a bikini, how to walk in high heels, how to get the perfect arms. Well, guess what. It's bullshit. All of it.

I'm 5"9, I have a butt, I have thighs.. And through years and years of being athletic and playing sports THAT DOESNT CHANGE. It's in my genetics. So what do I do? Starve myself? It's not in the cards for me. I'm never going to weight 120 and suddenly shrink to 5 foot 2. I'm never going to look like my gorgeous sister in law who trains for marathons. It's the reality of life. I'm sick of society telling me to look this way or that way, it's caused me way too many hours of heartache. It may take me a year to lose my "baby weight"-- do you think the woman who went through 6 years of infertility would give up the hopes of carrying a sweet baby just because it takes longer than 6 months to lose the weight she gained during her pregnancy? No way. How ungrateful have I been?


I have NEVER been confident about my body. My whole life I've wanted to look like a model, be able to wear a swimsuit to the beach without feeling ugly. Im tired of feeling like I have to wear shorts over my swim bottoms to cover my thighs and hide how big my I think my butt is.

It's time for me to let go. To move on. And to realize that society has lied to me for years. It's time to appreciate the body I have been given.

{REAL TALK} Don't hate me, please.

Hi guys, so as most of you know. . . . I'm 35 weeks pregnant. And to be honest, its been HELL. I'm sorry to be so blunt, and I'm sorry to disappoint many of you. If you don't like a good drama queen rant. . . stop reading here. This is my place to vent, so instead of posting a pity filled status update on FB, here I am.

First 16 weeks, I was throwing up every day. Morning sickness is not joke, just kidding, it is. Because guess what? Morning sickness MEANS ALL DAY SICKNESS. The only thing I seemed to keep down was 1. refried bean burritos 2. cold apples 3. water  4. gatorade. Well, we made it out of the first trimester alive, but freak was it hard.

Then we had a solid two months where the only discomfort I experienced was an occasional hip pain at night. Totally doable.

Now for the last month, I'm passing out multiple times a day which means I need a babysitter 24/7, I'm at fall risk, and basically on bed rest. I'm trying to stay positive but its real scary. The more I try to fight the fainting, the worse it is. For example, today, I had a bunch of things I wanted to get done and I couldn't get through all of it. With batteries in tote for my Baby's little swing, and going up and down a flight of stairs with a smile on my face. . . I started to feel it coming on. The blurred vision, the nausea, the seeing dots, the weak legs. . . I looked at my husband while I was on the top of the stairs and said, "Oh Shi*", yes I cussed. . . no, I'm not perfect. I then said over and over again, "I don't feel good. I don't feel good." with tears welling up in my eyes. Before I knew it, he was holding me under the armpits and trying to get me to the bed before I collapsed. I curled up in a ball and tried to fight it with all my might. . . which ended with a panic attack. I wasn't passed out, instead I was having a hard time breathing, I scratched at my husband's arm. . . I moved my legs around violently; anything I could possibly do to suck in air and breathe again. My chest and lungs felt like they had diminished and all of the sudden I was 3 years old in the deep end of a swimming pool and couldn't swim. As always, the anxiety attack came to an end, even though in my head I was sure it would never go away.

I hate this. Pregnancy is not my favorite thing in the world... I am grateful for the blessing of being able to carry a child and I'll love him with my whole heart when he gets here, but for now. . . its the worst thing I've ever experienced. Pregnancy is hard, its not all rainbows and butterflies. My butt is as big as a bus and I feel ugly and lethargic. Sometimes I just cry because I feel guilty, and I feel like a failure. I tell my husband that maybe having three more pregnancies after this isn't such a good idea, but he is set on having 4 kids and doesn't understand why I can't just tough through it.

I'm fragile today, its been hard. That's all I've got for the blog today.

Ohana means family

Back when I first started my blog, one of my very first entries was about my family. Why did I do this? Well, simply because my family is one of the most important things in my life. Just so that you don't have to scroll back. . . let me give you a little background on my interesting family situation.

My mom was married prior to meeting my dad, she had one son, her and her first husband split up.

My dad was married prior to meeting my mom, he had four children, eventually his marriage to his first wife ended as well.

Months pass by (maybe even years for my dad, I don't have the timeline down exactly) and my parents meet at an LDS church dance for single adults that they both did not want to go to.

Well, my mom was like a total fox and was getting asked to dance by all these guys, my dad walks in and sees her and eventually gets his turn to dance with her. INSTANT CONNECTION. They go out to pie afterwards and from that day on . . . spent every possible waking moment together. ONE MONTH LATER. . . . they got married. My mom with her 4 year old son, married my dad who had 4 teenagers. Oh, and I forgot to mention--my parents are sixteen years apart.

Talk about passion, am I right?? Anyway, a couple years later I was born and then my sister was born and so we are one big major real life "His, Mine, and Ours". When I was born, it was kind of monumental because I was half my dad and half my mom, thus almost "bonding" the family together as my dad would say.

We lived a charmed life, I loved my older siblings and my baby sister with my whole heart and I constantly bragged to others about how special my family was. We would go on family trips together, tease each other, have family get togethers constantly, we were a model family.

I never imagined that we would fall apart. . . . due to a series of events, feelings were hurt and words were said-- some that were beyond repairable  it seemed. Half of my siblings don't talk to one another, and as much as some of us refuse to admit it-- there is something missing. Its been about 9 months now since this all happened. . . it breaks my heart to think that most of my siblings wont be there for Carter's baby blessing. We have all said or done things we regret and so there is a lot of guilt and feelings of sadness. I hope someday we will all be able to soften our hearts but I think it will take time. This is our trial right now, and I hope we can pull through and remember we are an eternal family.

I love my family, I always will.

Utah Baby Shower

Thanks to the power of priesthood blessings, I survived my Utah baby shower--and by survived, I mean that I didn't pass out. Of course I was in a recliner the whole time, so that helped, and we did have a scary moment but it passed quickly.

There were about 30 people that showed up, I couldn't believe the love I felt. It was snowing really hard, yet 30 people showed up. Carter and I got spoiled rotten.

I'm so excited for my little guy to be here. My mom is a labor and delivery nurse so the whole time we drove to Utah, she talked to me about what to expect during labor. . . it took everything in me not to cry because I am so excited and anxious. I can't believe that he will be here next month.

My Idaho baby shower is this upcoming weekend. Carter and I will get spoiled all over again, I am so excited. I love my little son. I've been writing him tons of letters. Maybe I will post some of them on the blog later.

Love Languages: My expert advice

My blog post title is very misleading, I am no expert on the languages of love. When JJ and I first got married, we were given a book called the 5 Love Languages and I read it right away but didn't completely grasp it. GUYS. . . it's only taken almost two years of marriage to figure out my husband's love language and now that I have. . . its made a world of difference for our marriage.

The 5 love languages (again, not an expert; lets see if I can get all of these without using google):

1. Words of Affirmation
2. Physical Touch
3. Service
4. Gifts
5. um......... I don't remember. ** blaming it on pregnancy brain OH WELL NOT APPLICABLE, MOVING ON. . .

When we first got married, I thought for sure that JJ was all about that physical affection. I didn't take into account that we were newlyweds and he's a dude and so OF COURSE he's going to be super affectionate-- DUHHHH. I'm his new bride and he thinks I'm hot. . . yada yada. Well, what I didn't fully understand is that you can totally have more than one love language. And maybe they change back and forth. . . that's the tricky part.

My love language is definitely Words of Affirmation, I love when JJ tells me that he loves me and gets all sentimental during pillow talk. I love posting pictures of JJ and I on social media and pouring my heart out. I love telling him that he's the best husband in the world, and most often (besides the social media part--once in a blue moon does he post ANYTHING on social media) he reciprocates. JJ is my best friend, and he is an amazing husband in ways that I can't even begin to express but. . . he's not one to write me a letter/card, post about our love on social media, or buy me flowers just because. It was hard for me to accept at first, but eventually, I just told myself, "my husband isn't romantic--whatever, get over it." And guess what? I got over it.

Fast forward to literally three weeks ago. I don't know if it was divine intervention or my own humbling but I fell in love with my husband all over again. I started to see him in a new light. I realized that his love language was not necessarily solely physical touch but more service than anything. When he would fold the laundry or do the dishes, he would look to me for validation. . . almost to say, "Genny, look what I'm doing for you, I love you, and so I'm serving you." All of this hit me at once. Every time he gave me a foot rub, or cleaned the kitchen, or cooked me dinner. . . he was telling me how much he loved me. I got teary eyed thinking about all the times I had gotten feisty with him when he didn't get me flowers on my birthday, or "comment/like" my mushy post on Instagram (lol, wow I'm a drama queen). . . but how many times had I come home to a clean kitchen after a really hard day and barely even mumbled a "Thanks for cleaning the kitchen, JJ"??? All of the sudden, I felt horrible about myself as a spouse.

We had a grumpy morning, where I had pregnancy insomnia and slept horribly, he had become a sweaty furnace and then also taken most of the blanket and bed space and I said something rude (can I blame it on being half awake? I was practically sleep talking I PROMISE). He said, "Genny why are we fighting so much?" He then got up and went to his 7:30 AM workout and I was wide awake. That's when all of this hit me and I decided then and there that I was going to serve my husband and reciprocate his love language of service. I decided that no matter his reaction to these acts of service, I would continue forward. I would serve him twice a day, at least, no matter what. At first, some of his reactions were. . . . "Genny, you don't have to do that." Or, "Why are you acting so different?(with a smile on his face)" I made him a coupon book of love, plastered our door with compliments about him as a husband on post-it notes, served him dinner, offered massages, watched the shows HE wanted to watch, folded all his laundry, etc. Told him how proud I was of him multiple times.

And guess what? The romantic texts started coming in, the affection got stronger, he became super focused on his job, and he totally turned into a mush ball. But it didn't happen overnight. Slowly, he started to notice my patience and kindness was rubbing off on him and he was loving me stronger than ever; its like we are giddy newlyweds again.

Instead of setting myself up for disappointment on Valentine's Day, (I'm half kidding about being disappointed-- but again, not a flower or romantic guy--which is fiiiiiiiine) my favorite holiday, I decided that this year I would plan our date. I've never been so excited for Valentine's Day, ha ha. I planned my mushiness and he didn't have to deal with the pressure of not procrastinating our V-day plans and then facing the wrath of a pregnant hormonal wife.

Marriage can be challenging, it only works with compromise and being willing to forgive one another. I love my sweetheart, and I love how well we work together.

So, take this love challenge, and figure out your spouse's love language, more times than not, his differs from yours. Try to love him in the ways that he expresses his love for you. I never realized that putting the dishes away was a small way of JJ showing he loved me.


Happy month of love, y'all.