A Story for the Grandkids--Part V

August 17th kept approaching sooner and sooner. BK and I grew closer and closer. And the decision to marry him kept becoming more and more right.



BK got a little bit frustrated about the timing. It was obviously out of the question to get married before I went to college. I refused to have a wedding in December--sorry if that offends anyone, but I just think it's an incredibly inconvenient time for everyone. So then we threw around the idea of the following summer--but it just seemed forever away.


So--we decided to just not get ahead of ourselves and just worry about dating when I got up there.

One night when I was driving home from work I received a distinct message in my head.

Voice in my head: GO TO THE BANK.
Me: ?
Voice: GO TO THE BANK.
Me: Well okay, voice, but you know how my father feels about me going to ATM machines late at night.
Voice: YOU'LL BE FINE. GO TO THE BANK.
Me: Well, okay, voice, but can I ask why?
Voice: BK NEEDS MONEY.
Me: ??
Voice: YOU HEARD ME.
Me: Since when is it my job to fund his bills? And, voice, you of all people know how much trouble I got in with Mom and Dad for spending $30 last week at Hobby Lobby. How am I going to explain this?
Voice: JUST DO IT.
Me: (pulls up to an ATM Machine) How much does he need?
Voice: $40.

I took out the money, put it in an anonymous envelope--sent it to my future roommate Kathryn, who was then to mail it from Provo, so that he wouldn't know it was me.

But BK was too smart. He knew it was me. He called me a few days later to tell me thank you--that he had been living off oatmeal and ramen for two weeks straight because he had no money (when all the while he had been buying phonecards to talk to me...) and that the $40 was exactly what he needed. And surprisingly enough, the $40 debit had escaped the on-going parental audit on my bank account. Interesting how that worked out.

Another time, BK had inherited some leftover pizza from a study session. He was so very excited about this because it would provide him lunch and dinner for a few days. He came home from school the next day to find the entire pizza--GONE. His roommates had eaten the ENTIRE pizza and not even left him one slice! I was so upset at them about this. BK, being the non-confrontationalist wasn't going to say a word. So I, being the confrontationalist, called the Pizza Hut in Provo, ordered a pizza with my debit card, and had it delivered to his apartment. Before it got there, I called every single roommate and instructed them not to touch one slice of it. They were speechless. And BK enjoyed every piece of it. :)

My friend Linzi and me

The day to fly to Utah was finally here. I had everything packed and loaded in the car. BK was ready to pick me up from the airport later that day to drive me down to St. George to meet his parents. Everything was just great.


We got to the airport, and I went to check my bags. And to my complete shock and horror, I had forgotten my photo ID. There used to be ways you could get around that--prescription drugs, social security cards--and I had none of them. So back in the car with my parents I went, $100 poorer, scheduled for a flight the next morning at 7am.


BK thought it was absolutely ridiculous that I had forgotten my wallet to go to the airport, and since then has always asked me if I have it before we go anywhere. I couldn't believe I was back in the car going home with my parents when I was supposed to be on my way to see BK. What horrible luck.


But the next day came--and I made it on the airplane with all sorts of photo identification. Since it was Sunday, BK was going to pick me up, and then we were going to catch a sacrament meeting, and then drive to St. George. As I reached the baggage area, I saw him there looking good in his suit, I ran up to him, gave him a huge hug and a kiss.


He took me to St. George where I met his parents, grandparents, sister--and then on to Las Vegas to meet his brother and his boys. When we were in St. George, BK decided to take me to the St. George temple to go to the visitor's center and to walk around. We had someone take a picture of us because BK said, "We should take a picture in front of the temple and send it to your parents." (He thought it was funny that I hadn't really told my parents yet how serious we were.) So we took the picture, but we didn't send it to my parents-not yet anyway. While at the visitor's center, there was an older missionary lady giving just the two of us the tour. She kept making reference to "when the two of you get married in the St. George temple."

(When we were living in St. George two years later, I randomly ran into her in a friend's ward--she actually remembered me and enjoyed hearing that it had actually worked out for us! "There was just something special about the two of you. I could tell you were meant for each other," she told me.)




We left his parents' house, drove up to Layton to visit his other sister and her family. We had a great time there, too. But it was finally time to get me moved into the dorms. I couldn't believe that I could finally call BK without it being a long distance call!

For Labor Day, I went with BK and his family to their cabin in Central Utah and had a great time. Things just seemed so perfect! School started the next week, and I thoroughly enjoyed being able to meet BK for lunch and hang out with him at his apartment after school.

My apparent shrine to our relationship in my dorm room

But after the initial newness of the situation, I apparently turned into some sort of time-consuming, high maintenance girlfriend. I don't exactly remember doing that, but according to this email, it must've been what happened:

"Sorry that I haven't had much time to spend with you lately. I feel bad that you have been a little worried about that. I did spend the whole weekend with you though. I don't know, I am just trying to be more focused. Not that that means that you aren't included in my state of being focused. It just means that I have so many things to do, and I am trying to a lot better with them than I have done before. I still do spend much time with you, it's just not every moment like before. I think before I wasn't quite as balanced. Now as far as you, I am trying to spend more quality time rather than quantity. I actually think its a little better that way. Sometimes it seems that when we spend every moment together, we get a little disturbed with one another. Honestly it also makes it kind of hard to spend so much time with you because I know that assuming things work out with us, it would still be a long time before anything could happen. If we spend so much time together and move fast then it will only make it harder to wait. I think that if we just take things slow then we will be much happier and we'll enjoy our time together better and appreciate each other more."

And thus the drama began. I tried to be better about giving him his space, but in the back of my mind, I felt like that wasn't the only reason he wanted it. I began to feel that he was having doubts about our relationship. I was 18--for crying out loud, and was(/am) incredibly immature. I had just moved away from my parents. It was an absolute non-stop dramafest with me. But in my defense... umm... well... I was cute. (?) And oh yeah, I had the Dining Plus meal plan, so I did help with his grocery bill... yyyyeah, those are the only two things I can think of.

In the midst of the uneasiness of the situation, I made the (apparently) huge mistake of inviting BK to come down to Texas for part of the Christmas break.

A Story for the Grandkids--Part IV

As the visit got closer, we got rather nervous. What if it was so great to talk on the phone, but then it was awkward to actually be in person? I recruited my friend Linzi to come to the airport with me to pick him up, just in case it was too weird.


We waited at the bottom of the escalator, and then I saw him. He was holding a gift bag in one hand. He came up and gave me an extremely awkward hug. (He was only two months post-mission--I decided to give him a break about this.) He handed me the gift bag and a really nice card, and I opened the bag to find this guy:






I slept with that bear every single night from then on until the day we got married.
When we got into the car, he pulled out a CD he had burned and put it in. It had really great songs on it! Including the song that we decided was about us--forgive me for being cheese-tastic with this one--"I knew I loved you before I met you"--Savage Garden. The three of us had a good time talking and laughing together in the car.

I dropped Linzi off at her house, and BK and I proceeded to drive out to where the girls from the ward were currently having girls' camp. It was their special program on the last night, where parents and everyone were invited. My mom would be singing at it, so I thought it would be cool to take BK, and also so I could show him off to everyone.
The next morning BK had decided that we needed to get up at 5 in the morning to watch the US play in the World Cup. I decided it would be cool to try to impress him with my cooking skills, so I woke up before him to make him breakfast. Unfortunately, I had somehow forgotten how exactly to make pancakes--so after two failed batches, I finally remembered. I brought him breakfast in bed, and we proceeded to watch the game.

That day was the only day I wasn't able to get off work, so BK stayed at home with my family and Linzi came over, and they all played Scrabble. When I got home from work, we headed out to the McKinley's. Brother McKinley was majorly into fireworks, and at the seminary auction that year, he had donated a fireworks show with a BBQ at their house. Due to my insane scripture chasing skills, I had more seminary bucks then the rest of the other kids combined (except for David G. probably)--so needless to say, I definitely won that sucker and set it up for when BK came. Brother McKinley's daughter Melissa was the other girl in the note BK had left, and so she would be there, too, and it turned out to be a really fun evening. BK mentioned later that the whole time he was trying to think of a smooth way to kiss me during the fireworks, but he couldn't, so he didn't try. Lame.


Anyway.


The next day we went to visit some friends of mine and went out to dinner with Linzi. I dropped Linzi off and decided that I would make things extremely easy for BK. On our way home, I stopped in the parking lot of the playground next to my house. I put in the CD with our song on it, rolled down the windows, and proceeded to order BK out of the car to dance with me. And he finally kissed me. And "wow" is all I have to say about that.


Anyway.


The next day we hung out at my house. I had told BK we needed to watch "Pearl Harbor" because Dec. 7th is his birthday, and so it seemed fitting. Somehow we ended up kissing during the entire battle scene (aka one third of the movie). When my mom got home from the grocery store or wherever she was, she asked BK what he thought about the movie. He said he liked it. She said, "Yeah, I thought the battle scene was pretty spectacular." And BK looked at me, smiled, and said, "Yeah, the special effects were amazing..." (Sorry, Mom. I apologize for making out with my boyfriend while you were gone. But just so you know, it was Megan's fault. You left us home with her, and she was back in her room the whole time playing barbies or whatever it is that she spent her childhood doing.)





Then came the horrid day where I had to take him back to the airport. We wouldn't see each other for another two months. When we got to the airport, I pushed eject on the CD played to give him his CD back, and he told me to keep it, and handed me a card in which he explained why all of the songs reminded him of me, etc. I went and sat with him in the airport until he would have to go through security. When that time came, he asked my permission to kiss me (which I thought was sweet) and then he started crying. (Which, let me pause the story for a moment--I can count on one hand the times I have seen BK cry, even after 6 years of marriage--so looking back, this was extremely weird for him.) I asked him why he was crying, and he said, "Because this whole week has just been perfect, and I've just had the best time with you, and I'm worried that for whatever reason it will never be this perfect again. I just want this to work out for forever--and what if it doesnt? What if you move up to Utah in August and decide to date other people instead?"

I assured him I probably wouldn't. I watched him go through the security checkpoint until I couldn't see him anymore. I cried the whole way home, I missed him already. But at the same time I was so happy because we had been right--we were perfect for each other.



And thus began more emails and more phonecalls.
My 18th birthday came finally, and from BK I received: a dozen roses, a sweet card, a phonecall, AND he had recruited his sister Misty's help with the last gift. He warned me that I was not to open the last gift in front of my dad because it wasn't what I thought it was--which instantly told me it was from Victoria's Secret.
I made sure to open it in front of my dad--who of course, flipped out about it. But inside the box was an entire gift set--hand lotion, body spray, body cream, shower gel, and bath bubbles--and the fragrance? Why, passionate kisses, of course! My father definitely rolled his eyes at this.
Things just kept progressing really well. But for whatever reason, the whole marriage thing was just terrifying for me to even talk to him about. And he was getting frustrated about it. One night the conversation went as follows:

BK: Amy, have you prayed about it?
Amy: No.
BK: Why not?
Amy: Because I don't want to know.
BK: ?
Amy: I'm just not ready to know the answer to that question. I just don't understand how this is all supposed to work out, and as long as I still don't "know" then I don't have to worry about it.

This conversation started happening quite frequently, and it got to the point where I just knew I needed to pray about it if I wanted things to keep going the way they were going.

On July 31, 2002, I wrote:

"Yesterday was an awesome day. BK called and woke me up and told me about an experience he had on Sunday when he felt that it was right to marry me. So last night, I went to the park and talked to Heavenly Father about it. It is the right answer. I know that. I love him so much and spending forever with him seems like the best thing that could possibly ever happen to me. He makes me so very happy, and I can't wait to see him in 16 days. I'm not quite sure when things will happen, but we'll figure that out when I get there. I'm so excited about life! This time it's right!! It really is right!! Aah! I'm going to get married! To BK! Elder P. for heaven's sake is going to be my eternal companion someday. Could my life be any crazier?"

After telling BK about my experience, he wrote me a letter:

"...When I was scared of the whole marriage issue before I just couldn't imagine living with one person for the rest of my life. But then I thought about being with you all the time and having you right by my side and I knew that nothing more could make me happier. I thought about waking up next to you and I realized that marriage wouldn't be such a bad thing. With the wrong person it can be a bad thing, but with the right person it is simply wonderful. And in saying wonderful I don't mean that there will never be problems because I know that we will have plenty of those. But the problems and trials really don't scare me. I do not have fear of the future like I used to. That fear has been placed by faith and confidence."

A plane ticket to Utah was purchased for my move, and the countdown began again.

A Story for the Grandkids--Part III

I emailed BK back and hinted that I would really love for him to call me to tell me more about his experience. I let my mom read the email that BK had sent to me, and she said, "Hmm. This is either going to be really good for you or really really bad."


I cried before he called. It seemed so silly to me. We had talked on the phone a total of 11 times. We hadn't even been in communication for a month. I hadn't seen him in person since his mission. But there is no other way to describe it--the feelings were real. I just knew somehow. And I was worried that it was over before it ever even began. I felt like the odds were stacked against me--I was 17... a senior in high school...in Texas--whoever she was, she was obviously up there... with him. But BK had become a really good friend, and I needed to be able to fake it when he told me about his feelings for her, because I was just so embarrassed that I had let myself get hurt for the gazillionth time in my life.



At around midnight, my phone rang. I considered not even picking it up, but then I decided to just get it over with. I answered, and it was indeed BK. He seemed just really really happy. My tears began to flow, but I tried to mask my sniffling by saying I had a cold. I asked him to tell me about his email.



4 hours later I was completely floored.



The story BK relayed to me went something like this:



BK had been dating a girl named Hayley. They met in his Book of Mormon class, and had gone out on a few dates. BK really did like her, and had actually held her hand, and then she kissed him...blah blah blah.



At this point, I gritted my teeth and prepared for the worst.



But then the story took an interesting turn. BK, in his nervous, middle-of-the-night rambling, told me the following:



"But then you see, I was really confused. I mean Hayley is up here with me, and I really liked her a lot, but then there was you. I like you so much, but I was so confused because you weren't up here, and so I figured it would be okay to date Hayley and other girls until you got here. But when I went to the temple today, I got a completely different answer. I thought about Hayley and dating her, and it just felt completely wrong. Then all of the sudden, I thought of you. And I could see you dressed in white, and us in the temple together, and it just felt so right. And now I just feel crazy for saying all this. I mean, we haven't even hung out or anything, but it just seems crazy--I can see the potential in this relationship, and I like where it's going. I could see myself being with you forever. I really think I love you, Amy. And I just want you to know that I'm going to wait for you. I'm not going to date anybody this summer. Oh yeah--I should probably ask--do you even like me? Or am I just crazy?"



I was absolutely flabbergasted. Flabbergasted and speechless. I had no idea what to say. I had never been in this situation before. I was always the "friend" that had wished for it to be me so many times--and for once, it finally was. I-of course-told him that I did indeed like him. A lot. And I even admitted to him that I could definitely see the same potential in the relationship that he had alluded to.



At this point in the conversation we were both crying. We just knew that there was something special about this relationship--whatever it was.



The next day found me on Cloud 9. But I was also a little confused. How in the world was this going to all work out? I talked to my mom about it and expressed some concern about being young and having so much that I wanted to do in life--finish college, serve a mission, etc--and after listening my mom said, "Amy, what of those things can't you do with him?"



I decided that she was right, but I still wanted to take things really slow. I mean, the guy had practically told me he wanted to marry me after only talking to me 11 times. It did seem a little weird, but yet not. I expressed these concerns to BK, and he assured me we would take things as slow as I needed. He wasn't in any hurry. He knew what he wanted.



In his words:



"I hope that all is well with you. Keep being strong like you are, and I know that nothing can stop you from progressing and becoming the person you're trying to become. I sometimes wonder if I'm worthy of the person you are who you are trying to become. You certainly are making me want to become a better person and I thank you for that! Have a wonderful night, and have sweet dreams. Oh yeah and about what you said about that our situation is forcing us to be really really good friends, I agree 100% with you. I know that it is for our good and it will just make us stronger. I feel like I'm already getting so close to you despite you being a thousand miles away. I think about you all the time. You're very special to me and I feel bad that I haven't treated you better. I love you and I hope that you have an outstanding Sunday. Know that you can call me about anything and at anytime, OK. I am here for you 100% for anything. I certainly have patience for you and all and whatever you need to do in your life. Well, I guess we'll talk later. Adios. love you, BK"



And thus began a million emails and late-night phone conversations. It was so hard to explain to other people what was going on. We felt silly telling other people that we were in love, but as BK put it in a letter to me a couple weeks later:



"It's almost as if there is some kind of connection that we have with eachother, where we just understand one another so well even when we don't say it. It's like there is something that clicks between us, if you know what I mean... I guess that has to do with the chemistry. I've never met someone before that I seem to just connect with so well."



But soon we came to realize that we couldn't stand to wait 3 more months to test out what we were pretty sure was true love. Although to this day I'm still not sure how he afforded it--BK spent $300 and bought a plane ticket to come and see me in June for a whole week. I was soo excited!



And BK was really excited when, a couple of days later this happened:


I graduated high school finally! BK sent me a really great card and a book for my high school graduation. I think he was almost more excited about it than I was--now all he had to "wait" for was me to become "legal" and 18 in July... I went to my high school all-night grad party thing that night. I lasted 30 minutes before I decided that I would rather be home talking to BK. So I went home and called him, and we stayed up all night talking instead.
The countdown to the visit had begun.

A Story for the Grandkids--Part II

At the time that Elder P. got transferred out of our ward, he still had about a year left on his mission. I decided to do something that was sort of ridiculous. I wrote his parents a letter. I mentioned to them that I thought Elder P. was a great missionary, and could they mention to him in their next letter that I said good luck on the rest of his mission? (Hold onto that thought--it will come up later.)

As I previously mentioned, I was 16 and liked boys--so needless to say, there were several that came and went in that year. To be honest, I had almost completely forgotten about Elder P.(--and it didn't really help that the missionary who replaced him wasn't too bad looking either!) But I had that little yellow post-it note in my box of special letters and read it occasionally, day-dreaming about what it would be like to be with a guy like him rather than the riff-raff high school dorks I seemed to be attracting.

In March 2002 Elder P. successfully returned to St. George from his mission.

One day in April 2002 (my senior year) I must have been having a particularly bad time with one situation or another (probably with choosing a college, etc.), and I asked my dad for a blessing. I wrote this in my journal:

"Things were really stressing me out so I had Dad give me a blessing. I feel a lot better. I feel like I'm more capable of making good decisions now that my mind's clear. I really feel like there's things waiting for me in Utah, and that if I go up there and stay close to the Spirit, that I'll become a better, stronger person. I've never felt so much opposition about anything. That probably means something--that the decision I make really is important."

A few days later, I was sitting in a boring English class. All of the sudden the thought came to me--Elder P. is off his mission! I immediately put my mind to writing a letter to him. I can't really remember what the letter said, but I tried not to sound too psycho-stalkerish or anything. What if he didn't even remember me?
Meanwhile, BK had just gotten shoulder surgery (remember the basketball accident). He lay in bed miserable, recovering from this procedure, when his mother came into his room.
"I have a letter for you, and you'll never guess who it's from!" she said.
His mother had remembered my name. In fact, when I had sent that letter to them, instead of just mentioning it to him, she photo-copied it and sent it to BK on his mission! How embarrassing! (But somehow BK was still clueless to that fact that I was majorly crushing on him!)
Let me now interject with part of the story his mother told me months later.
Judy(BK's mom):So, tell me about this girl.
BK: Mom. Please.
Tara (BK's sister): Is she cute?
Judy: Yeah, is she??
BK: How would I even know? I was a missionary, mom!
Judy: Well, surely you at least noticed if she was cute or not.
BK: Mom. I was a focused missionary.
Tara: BK, come on. Is she cute?
BK:(looks down at the floor) Yes.
Judy: I knew it!
BK typed a letter back to me. After a particularly dramatic youth conference (for one reason or another) my mom came into my room.
"I have a letter for you, and you'll never guess who it's from!"she said.
In this letter BK reassured me that he did of course remember me. He sent me a few pictures of him. It also turned out that he had tried to email me previous to this, but had sent it to the wrong address. He also mentioned that since we would both be at BYU in August that we should definitely hang out. He would be heading to BYU for spring and summer term. He gave me his email address, and I wrote him an email back. The next day, he emailed me. Then I got brave.
On April 22, 2002, I wrote in my journal:
"I got a full tuition scholarship!! I'm so excited! BK's back from his mission and he wrote me and emailed me. I called him tonight and we talked for an hour! He's so awesome! He said he totally wants to hang out with me up at BYU--he's going there, too. Maybe this whole BK thing is the "distraction" I've been praying for. I don't know, I'm kinda confused! Oh well, it's a good kinda distraction! BK's nickname for me is "Ames"-how cute is that?!"
BK told me in this conversation that he would be going up to Provo in a few days, and that he would call me when he got there. I was skeptical, as I knew that would be several thousand good-looking girls HIS AGE. Plus, I'm sure he was just bored and thought of me as a cool mission buddy, and nothing more.
On April 26, I received an email from BK:
"Ames,
It was so good to hear from you! Seriously it made my morning...Sorry I didn't e-mail you last night. I tried to get on to hotmail last night and it wasn't working. So I was thinkin...Ahhh Amy's gonna be upset. She'll probably start worryin about me if I don't email her soon. Anyways I give my deepest and sincerest apologies for taking so long to get back to ya. You'll have to forgive me."
Hmm, I thought. In my journal, I wrote the next day:
"BK is so awesome!! He's just so easy to talk to and he's so smart about the gospel. I enjoy telling him about things, and I can't wait to go hang out with him in Provo in a few months--if he even remembers me then."
And after a few more email exchanges, I wrote in my journal:
"I don't know where all this is heading, but it's somewhere good. I'm sure. He's just amazing, and if Heavenly Father allows me to spend the rest of my life with a guy like BK P. I will be eternally grateful."
Several more emails were exchanged, but he still hadn't called me, and not wanting to look desperate, I didn't call him. But he finally called me on May 1st. We talked for an hour, and when his phonecard was about to expire (yes, people, we dated BEFORE cell phones) he told me he had two minutes and that he would just keep talking until it cut out but that he would try to call me another time soon. So we talked for two more minutes, and it cut out and I went to bed with a smile on my face. Then about half an hour later, my phone rang again.
It was BK. He said that he wanted to talk to me some more, and so he had ran to 7-11 to get another phonecard. Who was this guy??
Two days later, I called him. In my journal I wrote:
"May 3,2002--I called BK last night and we talked for an hour and a half! He let me talk to his roommates and I could tell he had been talking about me! He said he would call me sometime this weekend...yay! He's just so great--I can't describe it. I really could see him becoming my best friend."
The next day, BK wrote me an email:
"...I really enjoy talking to ya and e-mailin ya because right now I feel a lot of pressure in my life and it's so good to be able to talk it over with someone. Plus I think that you are keeping me sane through all this studying. Anyways I guess what I'm trying to say is that I really appreciate your care. You have a lot of impressive qualities and attributes and wish I had the words to tell you what a special person you are. You have a lot of sincerity and that is really cool because I think that is one of the best attributes a person can have. So I just thought I'd tell you all that, I'm not really sure why. But keep smiling in all you do and I hope that you are having a most wonderful day and that you are enjoying work. Take care and you're the best! Love ya BK"
As part of my journal entry that night I wrote, "I think I'm pretty much smitten."
I began to look forward to moving to Provo A LOT. But I began to worry that three and a half months was a long time. BK had a lot of girls after him in his ward. We had only emailed and talked on the phone. And I was 17 years old for heaven's sake. Why in the world would he wait around for me?
I began to be suspicious when I would call his apartment and he wasn't there. His roommate Jared would say things like: "Oh, he's at the movies..." And I thought--oh great, he must have a girlfriend, and now I look like the dumb teenager calling. But BK had never mentioned anything to me about any girl. We still talked on the phone but I could tell something was different somehow.
Then one day my suspicions were confirmed. BK stuck this lovely paragraph right in the middle of one of his emails:
"Let's see what else.... I have gone on a couple dates up here. They have been good. I think one cool thing is that in dating you really get to see what you want. I have taken this girl in my Book of Mormon class out twice. I don't know what will come of it."
I was absolutely crushed. But I decided to still try to be friends with him anyway, so the emails and phone conversations continued, but I was so confused. I figured he must just think that I was too young, too far away, or whatever.
Then I received this email from him, entitled, "The confusion is gone!"
"Ames, Well it looks like we've come to a conclusion of another grand day here in Provo. Today has just been an awesome day for me! I have been kind of confused in my life recently about a lot of different things and it really has been giving me a lot of stress. Well, today I had planned to go to the temple and at about 2:30 I realized that I had a lot of stuff to do and that I wouldn't have time to go to the temple. Well as I was about to decide not to go, I just had a feeling that I needed to go. So Nate and I went to the temple and did some initiatory work. It was exactly what I needed and felt so much peace there. After we changed back into our clothes at the temple to leave I wanted to sit in the waiting room for a minute and ponder, hoping that I would receive some sort of guidance in my current confusion. Well as I sat there for a minute, it just became clear what I needed to do and I felt all the confusion and stress leave. The answer kind of suprised me a little bit and I didn't think that it was the answer that I was going to receive. So I was kind of puzzled about why I got that answer even though the confusion was gone. Well, let me tell you that within a few hours I found out some things that totally backed up the answer I got in the temple even though I was a little bit doubting at first. It goes to show you that Heavenly Father knows what's best for us even if we don't understand why he does things. Because sooner or later we'll see that he was right all along, and that we were the ones that were wrong.... I don't know if any of this makes sense to you. I wish I could explain things better. I don't know, I will explain the details of this situation to you some time.... But now I ask you to forgive me for anything that I have done in the past week or so that may have offended you: 4 days without emailing, not returning calls, etc. I don't even know if you have been offended or not, but just in case I hope that you understand and forgive me. You probably noticed the confusion that I was in, I certainly wasn't myself. But I guess the good thing is that it's all over and I back on track baby! I swear this is why I dreaded coming home from the mission, so that I wouldn't have to deal with all the confusion that comes with living a normal life...... Is any of this e-mail clicking with you? Have you figured out any of the details of this e-mail?.. I'm not sure if I should tell you right now, but I need to sometime.... I did get another rebuking about studying better (they're starting to come on a daily basis), but I actually have done a lot of studying today...... Well, how was work? How's the car?.... How have you been feeling in your life lately? Well, I guess I should be going now... I feel strong right now and I know the Lord is blessing me and will continue to do so. I just want to close by saying that you really are great and that I don't think that I could begin to say enough good things about you. You seem to do everything right in life and you certainly put up with me so that definitely says a lot about you. You just keep doing what you're doing in life and I know that you'll be successful and happy. Have a good night, sleep well and I guess we'll talk more tomorrow. Sweet dreams! love ya, BK"
Dangit, I thought. He's getting engaged already.

A Story for the Grandkids--Part I

Many times I have sat down with different friends here and there and shared the story of how BK and I met, married, survived, etc. It's a highly dramatic and painstakingly long story. But everytime I tell it, someone says, "Wow. What a story to tell your kids and grandkids someday!"


So, for your blogging pleasure, enjoy my highly dramatic and painstakingly long story for the next two weeks. Yes. It's true. I'm drawing out the story over 14 days. There will be pictures. Horrible non-digital pictures. There will be love letter excerpts. The whole nine yards, people. All to celebrate this blessed holiday of love called Valentine's Day. (Forgive me in advance for the cheesiness that will ensue--but you know, it's my blog, and you don't have to read it. I won't be offended.)

And so, without further ado--I present to you Part I. (And yes, there will be roman numerals. It makes it more official.)

When I reached the ripe old age of 16, I sought employment. I ended up landing a sweet job with a ward member who owned an LDS bookstore. I would work 15-20 hours a week, basically babysitting the store and ringing up any customers who happened to find it. It really was a great job.

Kathryn and I at Youth Conference

One of the best parts by far was that the local missionaries lived just down the street, and sometimes they would stop in to look at books and visit. Being the overly-obsessed boy-crazy teenager I was, I looked forward to this because heaven knows there's nothing more attractive than a 19 year old in a really great suit.

So one day, I was on the computer in the front office typing up some inventory, when in drops Elder Layman with his new companion.

Nice parting of the hair, babe. So hot.

Elder Layman introduced my boss, and as he did, I turned around to see what the new transfer had brought us. And was I ever pleased.
The first thing I noticed about this new Elder was that he had a great smile. He flashed the aforementioned great smile at me with his right hand extended to shake my hand.
"Hi, I'm Elder P*****," he said. (I know you all think I'm crazy for this no-last-name business, but if we ever re-open our adoption profile and I open my blog to the birthmother masses, it really is a valid concern. Anyway, back to the story.)
I shook his hand and said something like, "Hi, I'm Amy F*****." But then I felt about this big when he said:
"Oh, I already knew that. I was actually in this ward about a year ago. It was my first area, and if I remember correctly, I ate dinner at your house. You might remember me--I was wearing a sling because I had broken my shoulder at the MTC." (Playing basketball, of course)
I quickly lied and said that I remembered him. Although to this day, I still have no recollection whatsoever as to the actual first meeting of my husband.I have since asked BK to tell me about it because he remembers it. He said his initial observations of me were as follows: self-centered and worldly. Ouch. GIVE ME A BREAK--I WAS FIFTEEN.
Unfortunately/fortunately this companionship of missionaries were rather focused, so we didn't see them too often in the bookstore. But when we did, I took full advantage of my time and used it wisely.

Cami and I at EFY

One Saturday in particular I remember. Elder Layman and Elder P. came to say hello to me and my boss. I was actually going to be leaving work early that day to head to the annual stake scripture chase. Not wanting to ruin my streak of being the best scripture chaser in the stake and wanting to completely impress Elder P. with my humble spirituality, I asked him to help quiz me on a few scripture masteries.
He was very impressed. And yes, our ward went on to victory later that day. As always. You can thank me and David Garcia for that later, people.
The first time I ever talked on the phone to BK, it went something like this:
Elder: Hi, is Amy there?
Me: Yes, this is she.
Elder: Oh okay, this is Elder P. I was just calling to tell you that Ricki canceled on us again so we won't be needing you to help us with the discussion.
Me: Oh, okay.
After hanging up I just had this huge smile on my face.
I actually did sit in a few discussions with Elder P. and his lovely companion. He really was a wonderful missionary with a wonderful understanding of the gospel. I didn't get to see him at church much because he was Spanish-speaking and attended the Spanish branch, so naturally since my boss was in the branch presidency, I offered to speak in in the Spanish sacrament meeting. In Spanish. The talk went surprisingly well, and I was able to impress Elder P. with yet another one of my talents--speaking the language of his mission.
Elder P. and his companion came to the annual McKinley BBQ social that April, where I was able to show off yet another one of my astounding talents--my awesome volleyball skills. If I remember correctly, I actually ended up spiking the ball and nailing one of the other ward's missionaries in the face. This actually got mentioned in BK's mission journal! :)
So anyway, as you can plainly see, I had a pretty strong crush happening with Elder P. I saw him at stake conference a couple of weeks later and said hello. At this stake conference, I mentioned my crush to one of my teenage friends, who wisely told me, "Amy, don't mention it out loud. As soon as you do, they always get transferred."
I thought this was impossible considering he had only been in the area for 6 weeks. When I got to work a few days later, this note had been left for me and another friend who worked there:

Initially, I was crushed. I thought I would probably never see him again. Because what were the chances he would even remember me after his mission? But my second reaction was: "His first name! It's B.! That's so cute! But what does the K stand for??" I took the note home with me, and as I got in my car, the song "I Love You" by Martina McBride came on, and I just had this feeling that perhaps this might not be the last of Elder P.

On Waiting for Children, Part II

Wipe away your tears, you silly people. You already know the ending of the story! Just kidding. Trust me, I was crying just copying and pasting that. Remember that talk from Elder Holland a long time ago that talked about how his car broke down a long time ago, and then 30 years later he returned to the same spot and felt like saying this to his 30 year younger self:


“Don’t give up, boy. Don’t you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead—a lot of it—30 years of it now, and still counting. You keep your chin up. It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come.”

You can read the article here.

That's what I felt like when I read that again.

Anyway, so needless to say, struggling with getting pregnant is something that I wouldn't wish on my own worst enemy. And just because I have one kid doesn't mean I won't probably struggle with this again sometime. It is always surprising for me to hear when people speculate about why someone isn't having children. And then when I say something like, "well you know, they could be trying and having problems." And the other person says, "no, I asked them." Okay, do you know how many people I lied to when I didn't feel like honestly answering that question?? Anyway, give people the benefit of the doubt, people.

So moving on. This was supposed to be an inspiring story, not Amy's sermon on how to live your lives. (Although that would be a great book, wouldn't it? I know I would buy it!)

So while BK was gone in Iraq, I decided to be productive. I switched gynecologists. My new doctor, Dr. Ellis, ordered some tests and within a few months was able to diagnose me with PCOS--which is polycystic ovarian syndrome. Basically, my ovaries get all these cysts on them (not to be confused with regular ovarian cysts) and they mess up my hormones real bad-like. I only ovulate about 50% of the time, but it's not a predictable 50%. Oh joy upon joys. But at least I knew what the problem was, right? (And yes, I got my thyroid checked--about 3 times. There's nothing wrong with it.)

So then BK comes home from Iraq. We accepted a call to be ordinance workers in the Provo temple. When a member of the temple presidency interviewed us, he asked us if we had plans anytime soon to start a family. I said no, because we weren't very successful in that area. He told us about his daughter who had struggled with the same problem. When he set me apart as a temple worker with a priesthood blessing, the Lord promised me that if I would serve in the temple for a year once a week, that the righteous desires of my heart would be granted to me, and I would be able to become a mother. Great news, right?

I decided that since I'm so smart, I'm sure I can get pregnant without medical intervention, heaven forbid. But after nothing for 6 months--I gave up for the sixtieth time and went back to the doctor to get on our lovely friend called Clomid. I even had an ultrasound that showed me that my ovaries were in fact producing eggs, and that I should be able to get pregnant, etc. Oh, we were so excited!

But, then... nothing.

But wait, what about the blessing BK gave me before I went on the medication about how my body was supposed to be being prepared to get pregnant? Yes, I accused him of making it up. Yes, he still loves me even after making such an accusation. No, he was not making it up by the way.

I had to get a horrible procedure in which they inflated my uterus with a balloon and filled it with dye and watched it go through my tubes on an x-ray machine. Nope, no tube blockage. So what now? Oh yeah, I guess we better check your husband out.

On our fourth wedding anniversary, I received a lovely phonecall from Dr. Ellis' nurse telling me that BK apparently has issues of his own that need to be dealt with--and that they have to refer me to a specialist--Dr. Peterson at the U, a "reproductive endocrinologist." Great news on your anniversary let me tell you. This was the news that pretty much convinced us there was nothing we could do. We decided to go see the doctor, but I was skeptical. Even more skeptical as I looked up on the internet the chances we had considering we both had problems.

But Dr. Peterson's PA was hopeful. They re-tested BK and put him on Clomid. Cutting edge, I tell you. I bet most of you have never even heard of that. Apparently it does the same thing in men that it does in women--produces follicles. He was on it for three months.

After three months I got a call from Dr. Peterson's nurse. She told me a miracle had occured. They had re-tested BK, and his numbers had (not to brag) quadrupled! She told me to immediately go back on Clomid myself, and so BK and I began taking our girly-pills together. I was still skeptical. Once I had a positive ovulation test, we were supposed to have intrauterine insemination (which for those of you not in the know, is the fancy politically correct term for artificial insemination--IUI for short). IUI has about a 25% success rate over 4-5 tries.

So here's where the real miracles start happening.

Rewind a couple of months. I remembered that my great-grandma had died exactly a year ago. Literally, it was one of those experiences where I was driving in my car (probably singing) and suddenly BAM! DO YOUR GRANDMA'S TEMPLE WORK. Okay, I shrugged. I went home, printed out some paperwork, took it to the genealogy library, went to the temple and did it. That day. Well not all of it that day, but most of it. I saved the sealings involved for when my parents were coming up for my graduation.

Okay, back to where we were. BK and I are taking girly-pills, remember?

My parents, BK, and I head to the temple to do the sealings aforementioned. In order to of course preserve the sacredness of this ordinance, I won't expound in detail, since who knows who is reading this, but it was one of the neatest experiences in my life. I had one of those life moments where it was like BAM! THIS IS ONE OF THE THINGS I SENT YOU HERE TO DO IN YOUR LIFE. Okay, I shrugged. But then the tears started to flow as I sat in the temple and these sentences came clearly to my mind:

I am proud of you for remembering your great-grandmother. She is so happy to be sealed to her family forever. Because of these good works you have done so quickly, things are going to work out for you.

Okay, but that could mean about a bajillion things. But guess what it meant? I got a positive ovulation test an hour after we got home from the temple. Interesting. A phonecall and a doctor's appointment later--we were hopeful, but I of course was what? Skeptical. You're catching on.

BK and I left on our cruise a couple of weeks later.

At around 3 in the morning on September 1st I woke up on my cruise ship and needed to use the bathroom. Again. I figured I might as well take the blasted pregnancy test so I could start taking different medicine to start my period again. And what do you know? For the first time in my whole life, this is what I saw:

P.S. Don't waste your money on the stupid double line pregnancy test. Digital is so much better. Duh. And guess what--they NOW make digital ovulation tests! THANK GOODNESS.

And whadyaknow, it was almost exactly a year to the day of that blessing we got from the temple president. Scroll back up and read that part and see if doesn't give you chills. Yyyyyeah. Miracle? Pretty sure.

Does that mean that just because you do your dead grandma's temple work that you will magically get pregnant? No. But it does mean that, as I mentioned the other day, when you do what the Lord wants you to, His plan can and will be manifested in your life. That's when miracles happen.

Now excuse me while I take my miracle trick-or-treating. Time to catch up on all that candy we've been passing out to every once else's kids for so long!

On Waiting for Children, Part I

I've thought a lot about how best to tell my wonderful little(big) miracle of Landon Keith. And I'm going to share with you something I wrote in my English class (Remember Days of English 313?) for my personal narrative assignment. And, gasp, it is personal. But I know of at least two people who read my blog who would feel better about themselves by reading this. The rest of you are about to get a very raw, in-your-face story about what it's like dealing with infertility. Maybe this will help you think twice before asking/gossiping/speculating about why brother and sister so-and-so haven't had children yet. I'll expound upon that later.

But anyway, this is going to have to be a two-part story, so I'm going to sink you into the depths of despair today, and possible later today, tonight, or tomorrow, I will make you feel okay about life again. (But if you need a hint--there's a really cute picture at the top of my blog of a baby boy named Landon.)
P.S. Not to brag--but I did get a big, fat A on this paper. I think the teacher might have been a little bit biased though--she struggled with the same problem.
P.P.S.--If you're reading this, Tara--know that I mean nothing personally against you--obviously. I love you, and I, of course, love your boys!

March 17, 2005
The Longest Car Ride

“I wish you could stay for the rest of the weekend, Amy,” my sister-in-law Misty said. I had come up to her house in Layton to celebrate my niece Bailey’s birthday.

“Yeah, me too. But I have choir practice tomorrow,” I said, suddenly thankful for having the calling of ward choir accompanist as an escape.

I quickly walked to my car, opened the door, got inside, and immediately dialed my husband BK’s number. Tears were already streaming down my face as I started the car and drove away.

“Hi, AmyLynne, how was your day?” BK said when he finally answered his phone.

My tears had turned to full-fledged sobs at this point, as I said, “Not so good.” I knew it was going to be a long ride back to Provo.

It would be a large understatement to say that my life has definitely not gone the way I had planned. Getting married at eighteen, living with my husband for a week before his six-month deployment, only to have him home for a year and a half before leaving again for another year and a half was not foreseen on my part. And it was definitely not in my plan to struggle with infertility through all of it.

It all started about a month before BK returned home the first time. I decided that maybe I had changed my mind about waiting to have children. I went to the temple. As I sat in the celestial room pouring out my concerns to the Lord, I distinctly felt that it was not time yet. About a month later, I started getting very sick from the hormonal birth control that I was taking. I went to the temple again. This time I got a different answer: Amy, you can go off birth control if you want, but don’t expect to get pregnant. The timing is not right yet. Somehow I ignored the last part, and was more excited about the first. I went home, talked to BK about it, and we decided to just see what happened.

At first we weren’t really trying. But after about six months, I started having concerns. My cycle was very irregular, and I had not yet gotten pregnant. After a visit to the gynecologist, I was more confused than consoled.

“Sometimes your body just goes through different hormonal phases,” he said. “Your cycle being irregular isn’t that big of a deal, it will just be that much more difficult to get pregnant.” Not that big of a deal? Having difficulty getting pregnant was certainly a big deal to me.

After a year, we decided to get more serious about counting days. It was actually a wonderful time in our marriage. We had both gotten to the point in our relationship where we knew there was more to our family than just us. Thinking about raising children with BK brought me so much happiness. Shortly after this, BK found out he was leaving again to go to Iraq. We decided that we would still try. Two more long months passed by. Each time I started my period, my eyes would tear up. While my close friends told me that it was good that I wasn’t pregnant with BK leaving, it didn’t really help much. I wanted to prove to myself that my body could work just as well as anyone else’s.

When BK left in January, I did not know whether or not I was pregnant. I was a few days late, but then, as always, I started my period. I was crushed. Shortly after, I received a letter from BK:

“I was a little sad to find out you weren’t pregnant. Not that I wanted you to have to go through a pregnancy alone, but I just don’t want to be having my first kid be born at a ripe old age of 26 or possibly later. I can’t wait for that day to be able to have kids with you!”

While I knew he was trying to be helpful, I felt that I had let him down. If only my body could work the way everyone else’s does, I could be carrying his baby right now, and we would have something to look forward to. But now we had to wait another year and a half to try again? It didn’t seem fair. But I was prayerful, and felt that the Lord was mindful of my wants. I just needed to see the big picture. Right?

So when I went to Misty’s house that day, I was not expecting the crushing blow that was heading right for me. We had gone out to dinner to celebrate Bailey’s birthday. Our food had just been brought out. I was starving. My BBQ chicken salad looked so good sitting there. I dove into it.

“I have just been so hungry lately. I have felt so bloated and moody. Maybe it’s just PMS,” Misty complained as she started to eat her beef sandwich.

“Or maybe you’re pregnant,” I offered, to tease her husband Brett who, after three girls, was ready to call it quits.

“Oh, Brett, wouldn’t that be so cute? Then there would be three grandbabies all at once!” She laughed, but I wasn’t laughing. How was there going to be three grandbabies if Misty was pregnant? Nobody in the family was pregnant. Or did I just not know? Misty quickly put her hand over her mouth, embarrassed that she had let an important bit of news slip out. Suddenly, I just knew. Tara, BK’s other sister, must be pregnant. I looked down at my BBQ chicken salad. Suddenly, I felt sick. I kept trying to eat, knowing that Brett was paying for my meal. But all I wanted to do was escape.

After the girls were done eating, Brett took them to wash their hands. Misty and I walked out to the car. “I really shouldn’t have said anything. You’ll probably be getting a phone call in a couple of days. I won’t tell you who it is. I don’t want to ruin someone else’s news,” Misty explained. But I wasn’t really listening. I already knew. Tara was pregnant. And I was not. And that’s when the tears started to come.

“I’m sorry,” I sniffled. “Can we just change the subject?”

“Amy, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything,” Misty apologized.

“No, really, I’m okay. I am happy for them. I’m just having a hard time with that right now.” I didn’t really need to explain much further to Misty. She already knew the details of our struggle with getting pregnant. She gave me a hug, and we got in the car to go see a movie. I just wanted to get in my car and go home.

All through the movie I cried. I just needed BK there to give me a hug and tell me everything was going to be okay, but he wasn’t. I just needed to know that when he got back, that we were going to be able to get pregnant, but I couldn’t. I just needed time to pull myself together before Tara called, but I wasn’t going to get that either. Halfway through the movie, “Tara Cell” popped up on my caller ID. I knew that I was going to have to call her that evening and pretend to be ecstatic. I continued to cry, thankful that it was dark, so that nobody could see me.
After the movie, I decided to just get it over with. I called Tara.

“So, I have some good news! Nate and I are pregnant. We’re having identical twins!” I could tell that she was happy. I tried to match it.

“Oh my goodness, that’s great!” Great? Two babies? How could she have two babies, when I didn’t get any?

I don’t remember the rest of the conversation, but I remember being proud of myself for not losing it while I was talking to her. I don’t remember the rest of the evening at Misty’s, but I remember being proud of myself for not losing it while I was there. After using the choir excuse practice, I found myself driving, talking on the phone to BK, but mostly just crying. It was then that I lost it.

“AmyLynne, it’s going to be okay. You and I will have our turn someday.” BK is always so rational in hyper-emotional settings.

“No, it’s not okay. I’m not okay. This isn’t fair.” What was even more unfair was that I heard my cell phone beep. Low battery. You have got to be kidding me, I thought. The phone quickly died, and I found myself all alone. I had just passed the exit for Bountiful. I still had a good 45 minutes until I would be home.

How could the Lord leave me stranded like this? No cell phone, no husband, no baby. Hadn’t I prayed every night for the past year and a half to be able to have a baby? Wasn’t that a righteous desire? Tara and Nate only had to try for two months to get pregnant. I was crying so hard at this point, praying out loud, asking for a miracle. I just need something. Just give me something to hold on to!

I passed the exit for Salt Lake City. 40 minutes to go.

Why do I always have to be alone? What are You trying to teach me? I thought if I had faith, that it was enough. Why isn’t it enough? So many questions, none of which were getting answered at this point.

Draper. 30 minutes to go.

I just need BK. Why did You take him away from me? When will things get easy? When will we get our turn to call everyone and brag about having a baby?

Lehi. 20 minutes.

My whole body aches. I have never been so jealous in my whole life. I want to go home and never leave. My whole marriage has been one crushing blow after another. Can’t You just leave us alone for awhile?

American Fork. 15 minutes.

This wasn’t what I signed up for. When I pictured being married, this wasn’t it. I have been required to make too many sacrifices that nobody else ever will, and now this is the last straw. Surely you don’t expect me to have to deal with this emptiness and frustration forever. I’m tired of disappointing myself, my husband, everyone.

Pleasant Grove. 10 minutes.

If I do have to deal with this, can I at least have my husband here to comfort me? Why can’t I just have him? Would that be asking too much to be able to live with my own husband?

Orem. 5 minutes.

I just want to go home to my mom. I want to quit school. I want to quit my marriage. Everything hurts. Everything’s too hard.

Somehow I made it home in one piece, although I don’t remember actually driving home. I stumbled into the front door, and my eyes, red from crying, adjusted to the light. My hands were shaking as I plugged in my cell phone. I dialed BK’s number, still crying.

“BK, help me,” I pleaded. I repeated all the thoughts I had during my drive home. “I’m tired of feeling this way. I don’t know what to do. I’m tired of everything. I hate my life. I want you to come home.”

My sweet husband did not know what to say. His wife had finally reached her breaking point. But what he said reached in to the deepest part of my soul and healed it.

“I love you, AmyLynne. I don’t know what else to say. I love you.” His voice started to break, and I knew that he was crying, too. “The Lord loves you, too, and I don’t know why we’re having to go through any of this, but He does have a plan for us. One way or another, we will have a family. You don’t need to worry about it.”

I felt that the Spirit was speaking to my heart directly through his words. My anger and hurt feelings subsided. My whole body tingled, and I felt at peace. The Lord did have a plan for me. A plan for BK and me and our family. BK stayed up with me almost all night that night, even though he had to get up early the next morning. I could almost feel his arms around me, even though he wasn’t there. The Lord hadn’t abandoned me. BK was still my best friend, even though he wasn’t here.

“BK, we’re going to have a beautiful family, aren’t we.” It was more a statement than a question.

“Yes, AmyLynne. Everything’s going to be okay.”

I wish the story ended with the scene of a doctor placing a baby in my arms, as BK and I both cry with joy and happiness, but it doesn’t. Maybe some day it will, maybe it won’t. But I know it will end up with BK and I together forever in love and happiness. And, for now anyway, that’s all I need to know.