Birth Stories

My husband BK and I found out we were expecting our second child in August 2009. This came as quite a surprise to us, as it took us nearly 4 ½ years to get pregnant with our first son, Landon. This pregnancy came after trying for about 2 months. Go figure....But we were thrilled.


And even more thrilled when we found out Landon was going to have a baby brother.
Two boys. 23 months apart. Heaven help us.

My labor with my first son Landon was long. I went 8 days after my due date, so I made the decision to be induced. I wasn’t dilated or effaced at all at my 41 week appointment and I was done. So SO done. We set a date to be induced at 41+1 day. The day before that, I went in for a prostin gel placement—twice. And then that night my water broke and I headed to the hospital. I was put on pitocin, which basically made me want to die. An epidural brought sweet relief, (until the nurse turned it off when his head crowned and it wore off before the doctor FINALLY arrived…) and Landon was born vaginally after sitting in a hospital bed for 12 hours. He was 9 pounds 3 oz, 19 inches long. I pushed him out in 3 pushes. I know, right?!? I am AWESOME at pushing out babies…



Here's me a few hours before I had Landon. I can't believe I even let my mother take this picture. And I wish that bag of McDonald's food was mine, but alas, it was my husbands.  No food for me...

Here's me a few hours after I had Landon. MUCH HAPPIER. Thank you, Wendy's! You're much better than McDonald's could ever hope to be anyway!

Here’s me with Landon: Awwww….

And for anyone who really has nothing better to do today:

Here's part of a video I made for Landon--but mainly just focus on the clip of me at 1:11 restraining myself from flipping off my husband (since I had specifically requested that he NOT video-tape me before I had the baby... UGH!).  And also, please ignore my annoying laugh.  Sorry in advance about it.








Blah, blah, blah... Landon, Landon, Landon...



So fast forward to my second pregnancy. The one you actually came to read about.

About 6 1/2 months along

I was worried about having another big baby, but I was absolutely against going over my due date again. It was horrible, but at the same time, I didn’t want to sit in a hospital bed for 12 hours. I knew I couldn’t take the contractions on pitocin.  To be honest, mainly I was just DONE being sick and huge and pregnant.  I began to look at my options for being induced.



My doctor told me about a method called the Foley Ball or Foley Catheter.



Basically, they insert a catheter with a deflated balloon on the end of it into your cervix and then pump the balloon full of water. It’s actually the same type of catheter they insert into your urinary tract during labor if you have an epidural, but in this case they insert it in your cervix. The increased pressure it creates simulates the natural pressure from the baby's head, thus resulting in your body producing more prostinglandins. (Prostinglandins are the chemicals responsible for the dilation and effacement of the cervix.) This technique is supposedly a more gentle way than the synthetic prostinglandin gel for giving your body a push in the right direction. Plus, rather than lay in a hospital bed for "an hour" (which from personal experience with the gel procedure--it's never just an hour) the day before you give birth, the doctor can insert this Foley Ball during your regular appointment and send you home.



And because I just KNOW you want to see what this thing looks like:



I decided to try it, and we set a date to be induced—April 22. At 39 weeks. Heavenly.



So on Wednesday, April 21st, I had my final doctor's appointment. I was not dilated or effaced at all. (However, this was not surprising to me, as even at 41 weeks I was not dilated or effaced at all with Landon.) Luckily, despite my "posterior cervix," the doctor was able to insert the Foley Ball. It was a bit uncomfortable to have it placed (much like a pelvic exam), but afterward I didn't really notice it was there, except for the smokin’ hot yellow tube I had hanging out—which they politely taped to the side of my thigh. Just so you know, the thing leaks blood—so I wisely wore pants that I didn’t care a lick about and wrapped the end of the catheter up in a piece of toilet paper. Yuck, yuck, double-yuck.



The plan was that I would report to the hospital at 5AM. My doctor was hoping the Foley Ball would help me dilate to at least a 3 or 4 “on my own.” Then they would hook me up to pitocin and get things really rolling. I was planning on getting an epidural again anyway, so I was fine with this plan. Best case, the Foley Ball would actually put me into labor. If it happened to fall out, it meant I was dilating and that would be a good sign. And I had a few contractions throughout the day, but definitely nothing to write home about.



BK came home from school around noon, and we spent the day cleaning the house and packing our bags. And by "we" I obviously mean BK. Yes, somehow I managed to procrastinate packing for the hospital until the DAY BEFORE. I kept waiting for some sort of nesting instinct to kick it, but it never did—so I finally forced myself to clean and pack the DAY BEFORE. Oh well.



We decided to take Landon to Fuddrucker's for his Last Supper As An Only Child, and Heaven knows I was going to need the carbs and iron. We came home, bathed Landon, and put him to bed. It still hadn't really hit me that in 12 hours or so I would be heading to the hospital to have a baby. My parents showed up around 9:15pm, and we visited for awhile and then went to bed. I decided a warm shower was definitely in order, so I showered and did my hair and laid down in bed to find an episode of something mindless to watch. I checked the clock on my cell phone--12:15am.



Excellent. If I fall asleep now, I can get four good hours in before we have to leave.



And that's when the contractions started.



At that moment I was watching an episode of Seinfeld. I glanced at my cell-phone clock with each contraction, noting that they were about 5-7 minutes apart and lasted about 30 seconds. No big deal.



However, as the Seinfeld episode progressed, my overall ability to concentrate and/or breathe normally started to blur with each contraction. They were still 5 minutes apart, but I could tell the pain was increasing. I put on my ipod in an attempt to block out the pain with loud music and possibly rest for the next four hours before heading to the hospital at 5.



There would be no such luck with sleeping.



While the first song I listened to happened to be “Run” by Collective Soul, my main songs of choice while I labored at home were from the Glee Soundtrack.



Because, let's be honest:



What song could be more motivating to make it through labor than Mr. Schu singing "Gold Digger?"

What song could describe my thoughts more at the time than Finn singing "I can't fight this feeling anymore?"

What song could be more distractingly awesome than Mr. Schu and Kristin Chenoweth singing "Alone?"

And don't even get me started on "Don't stop believing."



I resigned myself to the fact that I would get no sleep, so I decided to go ahead and get on my computer to distract myself.  I also decided it would be smart to at least monitor my contractions on contractionmaster.com. I chatted with various people online and read blogs. I wrote a blog-letter to my son Landon. I googled birth stories. Just ANYTHING to pass the time. I could tell things were definitely progressing though. My contractions were 4-5 minutes apart and lasted about a minute. It was about 1:30am at this point. Another half-hour passed. 3-4 minutes apart. Another half-hour passed. 2-3 minutes apart. I tried moving in different positions to ease the pain during the contractions. I stood, I sat, I laid down. I tried to breathe slowly.



I went to the bathroom, and I decided to check the Foley Ball. It seemed like it was hanging lower. As I investigated the situation (interpret that how you will) I realized the baby had dropped… substantially. My cervix definitely felt… different. Low, thin, and just… different. Not that I really had anything to compare it to in my own experience, but I just knew something was up. I decided to give the Foley Ball a tug. It came flying out. Yes, flying. And just because I know that if you’re reading this, you would want to know: the mucus plug was attached to it when I pulled it out, along with a ton of blood and other disgustingness. I considered waking up my husband to show him, you know, just to make him feel… included. But I decided he probably wouldn’t really appreciate it or ever look at me the same again, so I just threw it away.



 I decided to see how the Foley Ball’s exit would affect my contractions, and I wondered if it was the only reason I was even having contractions. My absolute nightmare was to show up hours early at the hospital, only to be told I was only dilated at a 3. I would rather be in discomfort at my own house for as long as I could bear it. I decided that if the contractions were still going strong at 3am that I would wake up BK and head to the hospital.



The contractions continued. 2-3 minutes apart. One minute of pain. At 2:45am I suddenly had a very loud thought in my head: Amy, head to the hospital.



I was 25 seconds into the song “Since you’ve been gone” by Kelly Clarkson. (according to my ipod when I turned it on several days later)- Apparently if your contractions are bad enough that listening to that song on full-blast won't drown them out, you must really in labor--according to my experience anyway.



I woke BK up and we grabbed our bags and headed to the car.  Our hospital was right across the street from our apartment complex, so it took a total of about 45 seconds to get there.



We walked into Labor and Delivery and I told them I was supposed to show up at 5am, but that I had been having contractions for three hours. They were really nice about admitting me early and we even got the biggest room on the floor! The nurse gouged me pretty bad putting the IV in. I think I might've lost more blood in that experience than the actual delivery. But soon fluid was pumping into my arm, and the nurse began filling out my medical history. At first I was just a bit uncomfortable with the pain, but soon I became engulfed in it. Simple questions like, "Do you have diabetes?" suddenly became impossible to answer. My contractions were about 2 minutes apart. The nurse decided to (FINALLY) check to see how far dilated I was.



At this point I was fully-prepared to be told I was at a 3. The pain I was feeling was about at the same level I felt when I asked for an epidural during Landon's delivery--which was at a 3, almost 4--about 12 hours before I pushed him out. (I attribute that now to the pitocin I had with Landon's delivery.) She poked and prodded, and I thought--If she's having to try this hard to find my cervix, I really must not be that far along.



"Umm. I'm going to get another [read: more experienced] nurse to check you. Your bag of waters is bulging, and it's making it hard to measure it correctly."



And suddenly she seemed to be in a real hurry, paging this other nurse.



"So I'm not that far dilated then?" I asked, bracing myself for news involving little to no progress.



Her answer completely shocked me:



"I think you might be at an 8 or a 9."



At this point I sort of started panicking. I wasn’t prepared to give birth without an epidural. I hadn’t read any books or practiced breathing or anything else really. (A problem I plan on fixing the next time around—you just can’t really rely on epidurals… you gotta have a plan B!) But I kept telling myself that if I had progressed this fast already, that even though I might've missed the boat on getting an epidural, I might be able to do without. Generally speaking, if you’ve progressed past a 7 or 8, you’ve missed your window of opportunity on an epidural, since they want you to have it before you hit transition labor.



The more experienced nurse came in and immediately deduced that I was not at an 8, but rather a 6.



(insert sigh of relief here)



Thank goodness!



At this point it was about 4:15am and I hadn't slept all night. If they could hurry and get me an epidural before I progressed any further, I would be able to catch a couple of hours of sleep to gain some needed energy for the delivery.



Once I filled out the paperwork for the epidural, it seemed as though it took the nurse anesthetist at least 8 hours to get there. However, when I looked back on the timeline of the whole thing, it turns out it was only 15 minutes- but the pain was excruciating.



Finally the Nurse Anesthetist arrived. She had me sit up and lay across a birthing ball in order to round my back out properly. (When I got my epidural with Landon I was so far gone I couldn't move, and they had to put it in with me laying down.) The added pressure on my cervix from sitting instead of laying added even more misery to my situation. I was quite certain this baby was going to fall out at any moment. I tried to breathe slowly as SHE TOOK HER SWEET TIME putting it in, but I wasn’t very good at breathing slowly, so I started hyperventilating and my fingers went numb. As soon as it was in, I felt immediate relief and I could breathe. And then I could feel my fingers again.. The epidural did make my blood pressure drop, but when they had me switch positions, it fixed the problem.



About half an hour later (around 5am), they checked me, and I was at a 7. I decided to try to get some rest. (BK had no problem whatsoever falling asleep on the couch at this point. But that shouldn't really surprise anyone who knows him. Hence the lack of pictures of me in the hospital…) Around 6am I was almost at an 8.



The doctor came in around 8am to check me. He decided I was at an 8 and broke my water. Basically they insert a crochet hook into your cervix and pop the bag. It doesn’t hurt at all, there’s just a HUGE gush of warm fluid. He said he wanted them to check me again in half hour and if the contractions weren't closer together to put me on pitocin. I probably would’ve argued with him about this, since I was obviously progressing. Landon didn’t react well when I was on pitocin the first time. His heart rate dropped, —but it was necessary with Landon since I wasn’t really having huge contractions on my own. I wanted to avoid putting stress on this new baby if it wasn’t necessary, so I was a little nervous about having to tell them I didn’t want the pitocin. I forgot to discuss this with my doctor previously. Oops.



The nurse checked me around 8:45am, and I was fully dilated. Pitocin wouldn't be necessary. Yay! They paged the doctor. Time to push!



The nurse had me give a push to see if the baby was going to move at all. She had me stop mid-push, as he was moving quite fast, and we were waiting for the doctor. Soon the room filled with nurses waiting to help. At 9:15am the doctor said he was on his way and to go ahead and start pushing. I pushed 3 or 4 times, and Spencer's head crowned right as the doctor walked in. He scrubbed up just in time to catch the baby--at 9:20am. (Like I mentioned before—I may suck sometimes at GETTING pregnant, but I am an AWESOME pusher.)



Spencer immediately gave us a good cry. They plopped him onto my stomach while they checked his heartbeat. This was new to me, as Landon was born blue, and so they had to rush him off to get him to breathe. I really enjoyed getting to see Spencer RIGHT as he was born. I hadn’t previously known just how slimy and bloody a newborn really is. But I also hadn’t previously known that I wouldn’t care at all and that I would think he was still the most precious creature in existence.

My first thought: He's so small!

My second thought: He looks just like Landon.



Spencer was surprisingly spunky. He came out with his eyes wide open and screamed quite loudly while he was being examined. BK tells me he tried to roll away every time the nurse touched him. They weighed and measured him.



7 pounds, 5 ounces. 19 inches.

They brought him to me. He couldn't have been more perfect. And to make things even more perfect, he latched right on to nurse. The nurse left us alone for a little while. I felt great.

Speaking of feeling great, can I just say that I know now with a certainty that my epidural with Landon had almost totally worn off when I pushed him out?? (The nurse turned it off when his head crowned, thinking she was making my recovery easier, but when they couldn't find the doctor, by the time they did, it had started to wear off...) My epidural this time was perfect. I felt pressure, and I could tell when I was pushing. I could move my legs and even put my body weight on them to move around, but I felt little to no pain. BK was shocked as to what a jovial mood I was in while pushing Spencer out, as compared to the hyper-ventilating mess who pushed Landon out.



I felt so blessed that my induction went so well, as sometimes they can be nightmares. My labor was quick and relatively painless and everything else I could’ve asked for.  I definitely recommend a Foley Ball-induced labor as opposed to a prostin gel/pitocin-induced labor.  So much quicker, so much less of a shock to my body--at least in my experience.  Another plus?  It's cheaper.  The doctor can do it at your regularly-scheduled appointment.  When you get induced with gel, in most cases you have to go to the hospital the day before actually getting induced to have it placed--which equals a lot more medical bills.  And who wants more medical bills? NOT ME.



I delivered the placenta quickly. The doctor stitched up my first and second-degree tears. I had torn in the same places I had with Landon—nothing major though. In fact, the doctor said I didn’t actually even need the stitches, but I asked him to anyway.



I recovered very quickly, and we left about 24 hours later.

And Spencer is an awesome baby, and has fit into our family just perfectly.

Here’s to hoping for a girl next time…

A Story for the Grandkids--Part XIV

"We're coming home. Expect me sometime in the middle of June."



I was so excited. He would be home in less than a month. Which meant I had to get crackin' on cleaning my apartment, buying a new outfit, getting a hott haircut, etc...


The next couple of weeks seemed to take forever, of course, but partly that was a good thing because I really did have a lot of cleaning to do. I wanted everything to be perfect. And as Janelle mentioned once in a comment, I did keep ALL the flowers BK ordered for me from Iraq, and part of the the cleaning was throwing them all away--a ceremony, if you will. But I did take a picture to document the occasion.

P.S. Leslie, I found this lovely picture of your Joe when I was going through our pictures... just had to share... hahaha...

Anyway.

Eventually, they were able to fly safely out of Ramadi to Kuwait. Then the military did another really annoying thing which was to have them go back to Camp Shelby, MS for a few days until EVERYONE got there. It was actually kind of nice to ease into the situation--talking on our cell phones all the time (when I wasn't student teaching... grrrrrr....).

Then the day came. The day when they left hurricane-ridden Camp Shelby forever. They would stop in Cedar City, UT first to drop off most of the soldiers, and then fly the rest of them to Salt Lake. He called me from Cedar and said it was pretty much the most depressing(/happy) thing to watch all of his friend reuniting with their wives and families, while he watched through his airplane window. But he said that they would be leaving any minute (they were, for once, running WAY ahead of schedule) and that it was only a 45 minute flight.

WHAT.

Why am I always so unprepared for these important airport ventures! I quickly showered, got dressed in my pre-planned outfit, jumped in the car, and drove up the freeway to the Salt Lake Airport to get my husband once and for all. The very thing I had been waiting 18 LONG months for.

I beat the plane again by MAYBE 3 minutes. Now I'm going to let you re-live this moment with me. Here comes the plane:

Then the door opens.

And here he is 5th person from the bottom:

And here he is off the plane (not the huge guy with the moustache, look to the right!) and looking dang hott in his uniform, if I do say so myself:


Of course at this point, no security guard in their right mind could restrain me. I'm not kidding about that. I actually busted past one of them and pretty much tackled him on the tarmac. It's too bad I don't have a picture of THAT, right? This next one will have to do.
Yes, you're right. That is pretty much the happiest two people in a picture you will ever see. And you know you like the lipstick on BK's lips. He doesn't look like he minds too much... And can I just say--since he had nothing better to do in Iraq, he went to the gym--every day--and he was BUFFFFFFFF when he got home! Okay, I'll stop. I was just trying to help you re-live the moment.


Anyway.


I took him home with me that day--and he got 6 weeks of paid leave. So we hung out. For 6 weeks. No work. No school. Just me and him. Finally.


I was the happiest girl alive. And you know what--I still am. If you can't tell--I really love my husband. He has always been exactly what I needed. When I was 17, I needed him to sweep me off my feet in a dramatic whirlwind romance. And boy was it dramatic! (Well, you already know that. We're practically best friends now that you know the entire saga, right?) And since then, he has been exactly the husband I've needed--calm, patient, loving, and full of faith. He has never ceased to be my best friend, no matter if we lived together or across the world from each other. It didn't matter.


One time when he was in Iraq, I was sitting in class, having kind of a down day. All of the sudden the Spirit spoke to me so strong: "BK loves you." And it wasn't just a sentence. I could just feel it. It was like for a split second I just "got" it. I knew exactly how he felt about me and that he always would. I told BK of my experience when I talked to him on the phone that night, and he teared up and said, "You know what, AmyLynne, I know you've been having a really hard time lately, and I've been praying more than ever that you would be able to just know that I love you, and that you would be able to feel loved, even though I couldn't be there. This was a direct answer to my prayers."


What a guy.


I can tell you I probably could've written 80 more posts just on how the Lord took care of me while BK was gone. You got the watered down version. It truly is amazing what He can do when we put our faith in Him. At a time when I should have felt completely alone, I never was. Heavenly Father always sent me good friends and experiences to help me out along the way. And most importantly, He brought my sweetheart home safe and sound.


And since then we haven't spent much time apart. Except for an occasional scout camp-out... well, and then there was that one time he abandoned me with a 10-day-old baby to move to Texas to start school without me... and you know, I do go see my mom and dad occasionally without him... but besides that. Not much time apart. And you know, I hope it always stays that way. I miss him too much when he's gone.


BK served in the National Guard for one more year after his deployment. He got out last February with nine years of honorable service for his country. Three months later we were blessed with the birth of our son Landon. And currently, BK is working on getting his DPT (doctor of physical therapy) degree at Texas Tech University--just like he's always wanted to.


And we lived happily ever after.


Happy Valentine's Day, BK. I love you with all my heart.

A Story for the Grandkids--Part XIII

"I'm going to Iraq. For real this time." He said. "For 18 months. 6 months in the states to train, and 12 months overseas. I'm leaving in January."


Worst news ever.

But at least they gave us two months' notice this time instead of 4 days. The holidays that year were bittersweet, as we knew that it would be a long time before we got to share another one together. It was a really rough time emotionally for us both. We went back and forth from wanting to cherish every waking moment with each other to just wanting him to leave so that we could get it over with. It was extremely hard for me when I went back to school in January to have to leave him at home, when I wondered if it would be the last few weeks we ever got to spend together.

Finally the weekend came to drive BK down to St. George and drop him off. He said goodbye to family down there and the next morning I dropped him off at the armory. Next stop for him--Camp Shelby, Mississippi.

Many people have asked me over the past few years what it's like to live without your husband. It's horrible. I'm going to attempt to give you a good feel for what it's like in this post.

In my journal on January 24, 2005, I wrote:

"My worst nightmare has come true--again. BK left this morning for National Guard duty. Right now he's in Mississippi, then he'll go to CA, then to Iraq for a year. I can't do this again. I feel just sick. I don't do well by myself. It's worse just being here in our apartment all by myself. I keep expecting him to walk through the door and come cuddle with me on the couch. What is the Lord trying to teach me in all this? Why do these things always happen to me? Why can't my marriage just be normal for once? Didn't I prove myself the first time? And now he'll be gone for 3 times longer. I'm behind in school, I'm depressed, and I'm lonely. For such an independent person, I really am a baby."

February 1, 2005:

"Well, I got through the first week. I miss him so much. I don't feel like myself really. It's like a part of me is missing."

I actually got lucky enough to see BK once a month while he was gone. Once again, professors were totally nice about letting me miss classes, tests, class presentations, etc in order to accommodate my unique situation. I went down for a weekend in February, and BK was able to spend a couple hours a day with me. I went down for our anniversary in March, and they let him spend one night with me.

An email from BK, March 28, 2005:

"I am sorry that I didn't get to talk to you on Easter. My phone charger was really frustrating me. I was really sad not being able to talk to you much the last couple of days. I really mean that. You always make me smile when I talk to you. I think deploying being married is harder than being single in a lot of ways, but in others it makes it easier. Knowing that you are thinking about me and praying for me makes this a lot easier to deal with. I have a lot of comfort knowing that when this over I have someone permanent to come back to. Really I think it would be hard being here single. You give me so much that I can't offer myself. I know that we have definitely had a tougher path to follow than most couples, but I know that it will definitely help us appreciate each other more. Sometimes its hard to see how other people's lives appear easier with less challenges. I wish I knew why we have things so hard. Many have had it tougher than us. The good thing is though, after this things will be better. We will still have challenges and trials but at least we can deal with them together.... Anyways, I love you tons and I can't wait to see you in few weeks."

In April they actually had a Wives's Weekend in which they gave the guys a lot of time off and wives could fly in. Unfortunately I couldn't stay for very long because it was, of course, during finals week. But BK ended up not having to go to CA because they needed someone to stay behind, so guess who got to go live in a hotel with their husband in May for two weeks in Mississippi? Me!

Then BK got ten days off to come visit me. We went to Padre Island in Texas. We went the USA-Costa Rica soccer match.

We tried to spend every moment possible with each other. But then the dreaded day came when I would have to have the worst airport drop-off of all--the last one before he flew to Iraq. We had no idea what the phone or email situation was going to be. We had no idea when or if he would be able to come home for two weeks during that year. It was a very scary thing.

Before we left for the airport, BK gave me a blessing. It was one of the most heart-wrenching experiences in my life. I mean, think about it. If you're BK, what in the world do you say? You're about to leave your wife ALL alone for an entire year and possibly might never come back. In this blessing, BK blessed me that every need I had would be taken care of. He blessed me to know that he would return home safely. And lots of other things that are too special to put here. And here enters another one of the five times I have ever seen BK cry. He was sobbing during this. My shoulders were completely drenched from his tears. He hugged me before we walked out the door and said, "I don't want to go. I can't just leave you here."

We drove to the airport and checked his bags. I kissed him goodbye, not knowing when the next time I would get to do so again would be. I watched him walk all the way through security, as he became smaller and smaller, then as he went up the escalator, then he turned the corner.

And then he was gone.

My heart dropped in my chest. I couldn't see him anymore. He was gone. I was proud of myself for making it to the car before having a complete meltdown.

June 23, 2005:

"Today was the first full day of no communication with BK. :( I have no idea where he is--either in Ireland or Kuwait... so that narrows it down! I hope I get to hear from him soon. I miss him so much! I can't wait till he comes home and we can finish school and get going with our life together."

And although I have told this next story a thousand times, I'm telling it again. So deal with it. A few days later, I was feeling particularly sorry for myself because I hate washing dishes. Yes, that is truly the reason why. BK's job is to wash dishes, and they had started piling up because he wasn't there to do them. This of course sparked a dramatic emotional meltdown on my part. How in the world was I supposed to survive for a whole year without being able to call BK? A whole year! My sobbing was interrupted by a knock at my door--a group of single students from across the street were doing a Home Evening Activity.

"Hi. We're doing a service scavenger hunt, and we've just got two things left. Is it possible that we could wash some dishes for you?"

The Lord had answered a small prayer and let me know that He would watch over me while BK was gone. And they even ended up vacuuming, too!

Then one day he called. It was so great hear his voice. He was in Kuwait. And thus our relationship as marital pen-pals began.

Barracks in Iraq where BK lived for a year

An email from BK July 2005:

"Hi baby, I just got off the phone with you. It sounds like you were having fun at Outback. It was good to get your email. I am glad that you read your patriarchal blessing and watched the wedding video. I know that you probably won't believe this but each day I am trying to put a little time into our marriage. Whether I email you, write you a letter, talk to you on the phone, look at wedding pics on the computer, I am trying to make some time thinking about us. I know that you probably don't believe me saying that, but I really am. I should have been putting more time into that category a long time ago. You have always been a lot better about making time for us. I have noticed a difference though since I've been doing this. It helps me to remind me about the covenants we've made, and about how much we love each other. It's kind of sad, but I think without doing those things I've been doing, I can really see how spouses could grow apart from one another. This helps me to grow closer to you. Not that I think I am going to forget about you during this year or anything, but it keeps me more focused on our marriage and it helps me try to consider your needs a little better. I am sorry you are having a hard time baby. I am having a hard time too even though it's not always evident. I just feel like I need to be home with you taking care of you and progressing in life with you. I kind of feel like I am at a standstill with you and everything else. We haven't had any time since we've been married to just be together me and you and not having to worry about homework, tests, etc. I know last summer we didn't have school but we had opposite work shifts and then being at my parents house didn't really give us a lot of alone time. It's ok that you are having a hard time. This isn't supposed to be an easy thing. I guess we can just take this thing a day at a time. Well baby, I should probably get going now. I hope that you sleep well tonight. Please just try to get some sleep for me. Maybe you should take a bath or something before you sleep. Maybe that will help. I took a bath at my motel room in Ireland just for you, cause you told me to take one. Anyways, I love you tons and I can't wait to see you again. Keep being a good girl like you always are and I'll talk/email you soon. I love you."

A few weeks later they flew to Iraq. Their plane was shot at on the way in, and the pilot had to nosedive to miss the incoming fire. Welcome to Iraq.

We were extremely fortunate to find out that the communication situation wasn't as bad as we had expected. I got to talk to him on the phone almost everyday, except the days they were on lockdown. When there was a casualty, they cut off communication until they contacted the family members involved. Those were always scary days. Sometimes when we talked on the phone, I could hear artillery in the background. Sometimes I could hear the warning sirens, and BK would have to get off and go jump in a trench for cover. It was terrifying.

He was in a completely different world than I was. Ramadi, Iraq was one of the most dangerous places in the whole country of Iraq--and there I was in Provo, Utah of all places going to BYU. (Speaking of, you KNOW you saw my article in the Daily Universe that year--Front Page...OH YEAH!)

Eventually we found out that BK would be able to come home for two whole weeks in November. We didn't know the exact dates--as it does take a good two weeks to even get out of Iraq--so I just had to be flexible and be able to get him at a moment's notice. And that's about all I got.

I knew he was in Kuwait waiting for a flight out, but one day on my way to class, I got a quick phonecall from BK saying that he was in Dallas, TX and was getting on a plane RIGHT then to come to Utah. He would be there in 2 hours.
I hadn't even showered. I ran to my class to explain my situation to my teacher, who was of course, understanding. I ran home, showered, got dressed, jumped in my car and beat his plane by maybe 5 minutes. Soon he was coming down that escalator and walking into the baggage claim with his army backpack on. I ran up to him and leaped into his arms. We had people who didn't even know us crying.
The first night he was home (Wait a second. Get your head out of the gutter. Did you really think I was going there? Anyway.) his time zones were all messed up. He wanted to go to bed at like 4 in the afternoon, so I went and laid with him. BK is generally a very sound sleeper and doesn't move around much. But after being in a warzone for 5 months, it was different. He slept so restlessly--twitching and every sound, sweating, tossing and turning. I just held him and cried. My poor baby.
We had a wonderful two weeks visiting family and friends. BK even got to come to class with me a few times.
And because it was requested, here is a story for you. One night when he was home on his leave, we were up all night playing videogames. I made a horrible bet that if he could beat my score on this one game that I would go outside naked. THAT'S how confident I was, people. On his last try, he beat the score and I instantly tried to run away, but he chased me down.
"Take it off and get out there. I'll even be nice and let you wear a bath robe, but you have to flash the neighborhood."
I went outside, and luckily it was like 3 in the morning, otherwise the single guys next door sure would've gotten an eyeful! Then BK of course had to be funny and lock the door and not let me in.
Anyway.
Then came yet another tragic airport scene must like the last one. I wouldn't see him again until June or July. I got to go to the gate with him (They let you do that when you're dropping off a soldier!)--I kissed him goodbye, and it was bittersweet. It would be the last airport goodbye scene we would ever have to have. I got back in my car and drove to my grandparents' house in Salt Lake City for the weekend so I didn't have to be in my apartment alone.
The holidays came and went. It was great to be with family, but I missed BK horribly. He seemed to just be missing out on everything during this deployment: two valentine's days, our 2nd and 3rd wedding anniversaries, my 21st birthday, thanksgiving, christmas...
On Christmas Eve I found out about an extremely close call with BK. He and a few friends were walking to eat dinner when a rocket came in from nowhere. They immediately hit the ground, but since they were on base, they were not wearing body armor, and they fully expected to have severe shrapnel wounds. After laying on the ground, nothing touched them. They got up to investigate the situation. The rocket had landed in a 6 foot patch of mud-which had absorbed the explosion and spared them from serious injury. BK knew that the Lord had protected him.

Winter semester was my cohort semester. And boy where those girls an answer to my prayers. Although it was a ridiculous semester educationally (girls, YOU know what I'm talkin' about... Oh the drama!)--I made some really great friends.


In my journal on April 2, 2006:
"I was reminded of an experience I needed to record. A couple weeks ago, BK had called me late one night. We had a good talk, but he told me of another "close call."

I didn't realize I was upset about it until I was in class the next day. We watched a clip of "Prince of Egypt" where they sing the song, "When You Believe." For some reason, the song touched me and all the emotions I had been trying to hold back came gushing out. I missed my husband. I was tired of school. I was tired of not having a normal marital relationship. I was tired of my husband being in harm's way. I was trying to control my sobs so that others wouldn't see, but I couldn't. After class my friend Mary came up and gave me a hug. The tears flowed freely at that point. A few minutes later she told me that she had felt prompted the night before, while talking on the phone to another friend, Tiffany, to say, "I feel like we need to pray for Amy. I think she is struggling with something." She and Tiffany told me that they had both prayed for me the night before. It meant so much to me that my friends were in tune enough with the Spirit to be able to ask the Lord to strengthen me the night before I was about to have one of the lowest days of BK's deployment. Upon being reminded of the Lord's love for me, my burden was lifted and I felt sincere happiness for the first time in a long time. I hope that I will never ignore the Spirit's promptings to pray for others. I am so grateful that my friends prayed for me when prompted to--even though they had no other evidence to prove that I actually needed help. This was an answer to my prayers because just the night before, I had asked the Lord to forgive me for not being so diligent in saying my personal prayers. This experience was a powerful witness to me about how quick the Lord is to forgive and bless us. All we have to do is ask Him. Without the Lord, I wouldn't have been able to accomplish anything in the last 15 months without BK. I would have been a complete wreck. I love the Lord with all my heart, and I am eternally grateful for the help I have continually received from Him in my life, even when I have been less-deserving."
Winter term ended, and I began my kindergarten student teaching in May (Another drama-fest in and of itself, right, Emily?). I couldn't believe that I was almost done with college! It had gone by so fast!

And then one day I got the phonecall I had been waiting for.

A Story for the Grandkids--Part XII

One day BK called and said that he had gotten permission to hang out with me for a few hours. I was so excited to see him! Over the next couple of weeks, I frequented the Motel 6 in Lehi. Most of the time, he was only able to hang out with me for 2 or 3 hours, but the weather was usually bad, and so I would just spend the night in Lehi.


This really started stressing me out because as I mentioned before, my scholarship was on the line. I had already pretty much given up hope that I would be able to keep it, as I had gotten a 3.11 GPA fall semester (stupid Calculus... stupid ME for never going to class...) and I would need a 3.91 GPA to bring it up to the required 3.5 GPA. With taking a week off, and then with driving back and forth from Lehi to see BK several times a week--this was pretty much an impossibility.



The day before they were to go to Colorado, they were allowed to leave for an entire night. Finally, I would get to spend an entire night again with my own husband! Unfortunately, we were both EXTREMELY sick--and so we spent the entire night coughing all over each other and chugging Nyquil--quite romantic, right? I drove him back to Camp Williams the next morning and said goodbye, not knowing when the next time I would see him again would be.



I cried all the way back to my dorm room in Provo to study for finals.



After finished the semester, I had decided to move into BK's old apartment complex for a couple of months until our apartment was available for me to move in. It was actually a lot of fun. I lived next door to his old roommates and had plenty of friends. But I once again grew tired of the "single" scene, and longed for the day that BK and I could live together.



BK and I were able to talk on the phone several times a week while they were training at Ft. Carson, Colorado. But finally the week approached that they were to ship out to the Middle East for an undetermined amount of time.



One day in May I got an interesting phonecall from BK.



"I have some news. We're not going to Iraq."



"WHAT."



"Apparently they don't need us anymore, so they're sending us to Ft. Lewis, Washington to train ROTC cadets. I'll be home in September."



Of course my initial-intial reaction was a happy one. He would be home in 4 months! However, my secondary-intial reaction was actually upset. All that work for nothing? I had rushed my wedding, had everyone fly in on 6 days notice, etc--only to find out that we could've had it in July all along? (It was super-easy for him to get days off when he lived in Washington.) I was completely confused about this. But I could not deny the answer we had gotten that day when we prayed about it, so I figured there must be some sort of reason for it.


A couple of weeks after the semester ended, it was time to face the music about my scholarship. I braced myself, logged on the computer and pulled up my grades. I couldn't believe it. I had gotten exactly a 3.91--bringing my GPA to 3.51. It was the Lord's way of letting me know I had done the right thing.



I bought a bus ticket to go visit him in Colorado. Yes. A bus ticket. I will never do it again. It was the scariest trip of my entire life. (Bus people have got to be the weirdest people on the face of the earth. But that is a different blog post for a different day.) But we had a wonderful weekend together and looked forward to living with each other again sooner than we had previously planned.


We had decided that I would stay in Provo, instead of moving to Tacoma. I already had a job and an apartment and everything, and BK could come to visit once a month. We splurged and got cell phones so we could talk more.


It was an interesting first 6 months of marriage to say the least.

In an email BK wrote:

"I just got here to the library a couple of minutes ago. It was sad eating my pizza without you. I really miss just doing the simplest things with you; like fixing food and eating together, walking around campus, watching TV, etc. I just really love being around you no matter what we are doing. I feel so close to you all the time, even though we are far away from each other. Just being sealed to you, I feel this amazing connection in so many different ways. That being the case, it makes it tremendously difficult to be away from you, because we got sealed to be together, not apart. But I know that The Lord will bless us a lot for being patient through this and I know that it will help prepare us for future trials in our lives."

Time passed quickly, and in my journal on August 22, 2003, I wrote:

"BK comes home on the 28th!! I'm driving down to Cedar City to get him. We start school on Sept 2. I'm excited to have classes again, although I know BK and I both will be very busy. I guess that's just what we get for getting married early in college. I can't believe the summer is almost over! When BK left in March, he gave me a blessing that said that the time would pass by quickly, and it certainly has. I still sometimes wish we could've had those first 6 months to ourselves. Life is so hard to keep going back and forth. It will certainly be a transition to living with him on a daily basis. BK takes good care of me. But I always knew he would."

The day that I finally got to drive to Cedar City to pick him up was a wonderful day! We drove back up to Provo to our apartment and started fall semester 2003 four days later.

We found out at a later time that it was BK's artillery unit that was supposed to go in and take Baghdad, but when it fell earlier than planned, they weren't needed. We were really grateful that he had dodged a pretty dangerous combat mission.

The next year was filled with visits to family, college classes, moving to St. George for a summer, going to San Diego with BK's family, buying our first washer and dryer (best day ever), moving to a bigger apartment, both of us working for BYU Intramurals, and basically just enjoying finally getting to live with each other and finally getting USED TO living with each other.

And that's when his National Guard unit got put on "alert." Again.

We went up to my grandparents' house for Thanksgiving 2004. While we were there BK received a phonecall on his cell phone. He went upstairs to take the call. But I knew who it was from. I went upstairs a few minutes later to find BK laying pensively on a bed looking out the window.

I didn't even need to ask.

The all-too-familiar tears started to flow down my cheeks before he even got a word in.

A Story for the Grandkids--Part XI

As most brides do, I woke up extremely early that Saturday morning to get my hair and make-up done. As most grooms do, BK called me that morning to check and see if I still wanted to get married.


"Meet you at the temple at 10," he said.


I couldn't believe the day was finally here. For those of you unfamiliar with LDS temple weddings--they're a little bit different. BK and I went to the temple in just normal church clothes, signed some paperwork (changing my last name on our church records)--and then went to change into different white clothes for the sealing (wedding). Family and friends are generally seated first in the small sealing room--and then when everything is ready, they bring the bride and groom in. In the St. George temple, in this particular sealing room, everyone in the room must be wearing white. Only those who have been to the temple and made covenants themselves are allowed to attend the ceremony because of its sacred importance in our religion. Generally speaking, sealing ceremonies are short and only close family members and friends are invited to attend. In our case, however, since we weren't going to be having a reception that weekend, we told all of our eligible family and friends that they were all welcome to come to the sealing because we were unsure as to who would actually be there.



BK and I sat in a room together during this waiting time, smiling and talking about how excited we were to finally be getting married. The temple sealer (the one who performs the sealing/wedding ceremony) came in to explain to us how the ceremony would work. From what I remember, BK kept asking when it was that he was supposed to kiss me. The sealer told him not to worry about it, that he would make sure we didn't forget that part. And then we followed him back into the beautiful sealing room.


What we saw was incredible.


In this small sealing room sat/stood 55 of our closest family members and friends all wearing white. If that's not what heaven is, then I don't know what is. We were completely touched that so many people would travel so far to make it to our special occasion.



The sealing was beautiful. Exactly how it should be--short, simple, beautiful. As BK and I made these sacred covenants with Heavenly Father, we were sealed (hence the name) for all time and eternity. As long as we keep these covenants here in this life, we have the opportunity to still be married in the next. It's one of the most beautiful truths in our religion--that families truly can be together forever, not just until death do us part.






After the sealing, we hugged our family members and went downstairs to get ready to go outside for pictures. In the St. George temple there is a huge wooden spiral staircase, and the nice old lady that was assigned to be my helper that day let me take my train down to walk down the stairs--I felt like a princess.


I walked back to the bride's room to do my make-up, etc. and I happened to be the only one in the gorgeous room. There's mirrors and vanities everywhere. I stood looking in the mirror at myself in my wedding dress, twirling like a little girl in dress-up clothes, still taking it in that I was finally Mrs. BK P. I got butterflies in my stomach just thinking about it.


After awhile, no one had come to get me to tell me they were ready, and I got a little concerned, but come to find out--BK had forgotten to pick up his tux (his ONE thing to be in charge of) and so his aunt had run to the mall to get it. Finally, he was ready, and we walked outside hand-in-hand to find an even larger group of family and friends outside waiting to see us.
What is it about guys in tuxedos?? Yum. Sometimes I wished we lived in the olden days where men wore suits all the time.

We had a wonderful time visiting with everyone. I don't think I've smiled so much in one day in my whole life. For your cheese-tastic viewing pleasure, I have included my wedding video-don't worry, it's the 4 minute one, NOT the 12 minute one! And be sure to turn up the speakers--you know, just to get the whole cheesy effect. And yes, BK really was 22, although he looks 12.

Now that you have lost all respect for me completely, I can move on. For those of you who know me in real life, you know how un-cheesy I really am, which is why this whole thing is just so unlike me. But it's for posterity, people.

After the never-ending pictures, we headed to our luncheon with our family members. We had a great time visiting there as well--cut some cake, and yes, you bet I smashed it all over his 12-year-old face.

Let me digress for a moment and bear you my testimony of not having a wedding reception on your wedding day. Can I just tell you how NICE it was that we were completely DONE with EVERYTHING at 2pm that day?

A few people in our family had gone in to pay for a night at a local bed-and-breakfast for us, so we walked out to the car to head over there. BK's lovely big brother Coby shouted to us, "So what are you guys going to do at the bed and breakfast?"

I said, "Coby, what would YOU do?"

He winked and said, "Eat breakfast?"

"Yes, Coby." I responded sarcastically. "We're definitely going for the sole purpose of eating breakfast."

BK, being the drama-queen he is (not), literally peeled out of the parking lot.

Obviously, since I know there's 12 year olds who read my blog on a regular basis, I will stop there. But, posterity, just know that one of the best gifts you can give yourself is to remain clean for your future spouse. It's TOTALLY worth it. Okay, seriously. I'm stopping there.

As I mentioned before, BK only got one day off work. So he had to go to work at 7am the next morning. We would be staying at his parents' house the following week. Yes, people, I just said that we had our honeymoon at our in-laws. Are you still judging us for all the trips to Florida and the Caribbean for the the past 6 years? We had to make up for that! BK had to work every day, and I sat in an empty house and did homework.

The day after we got married, BK and I both sat down with our patriarchal blessings (a special blessing we receive a typed copy of). We had never shared them with each other before, as we didn't feel it was appropriate to do so. But since we were finally married, we took the opportunity to read each other's out loud. And again, keeping in mind the sacredness of the matter, just know that it was again confirmed to us that we had made the right choice in marrying each other. Just know that they fit together like a puzzle, including complete sentences that were identical and individual to us. It was a really neat experience.

Finally the day came that I had to go back to school. BK gave me a blessing, and it was a really neat experience to have him do that as my husband. He promised me that the Lord would take care of me, even though I would be alone.

I drove back to Provo in the WORST snow storm I have EVER seen. Complete white-out. But somehow, someway, I made it in one piece.

I grabbed my bags out of my newly inherited car (I just LOVE being married--all his stuff becomes "yours.") and heading up to my familiar room on the 2nd floor of T Hall. I became an instant celebrity as the "married girl" living in the dorms. Okay, "celebrity" might be a strong word, but seriously I felt like one. It was fun to put up my wedding pictures in my dorm room and have marriage-crazed freshman girls stop by to see and hear all the details every other day.

But really, I just wanted to live with my husband. Or even just see him.

And then it hit me: he was going to Iraq.

I wouldn't get to live with him for 1-2 years.

I was going to have to hold onto those 8 wonderful days for 1-2 years.

A Story for the Grandkids--Part X

In a matter of ten minutes my life had taken a complete turn. 10 minutes previous, I had been on the phone with my mom, discussing my wedding dress, and 10 minutes later, I had to grow up.

BK came back from his bedroom and explained the bad news to me. You remember how his unit was on the list of possible activations? Well, apparently that was no longer just a possibility--it was a reality.
So on that Saturday morning, my brand-new "official" fiancee told me that he would be going to Iraq for 1-2 years. He told me that he would be in St. George for 2 weeks, and then Colorado for a month, and then who knows where for 1-2 years. And the worst part? He was leaving on Tuesday for the two-week St. George venture. As in three days from then.

I had already told him that if he got activated, I would not marry him beforehand. But now that the whole thing was official, it felt different somehow. I didn't even know what to say. I mean, seriously, what do you say?

I called my mom. I explained the situation to her, and she in a calm voice said, "Well, Amy. It sounds like you need to make a decision. It sounds like you can either get married next Saturday, the following Saturday, or not for awhile. And it sounds like you need to make a decision soon. Like today."

How do you even begin to make such a decision? BK and I immediately called everyone we knew whose advice we trusted. Parents, roommates, roommates' parents, aunts, uncles, grandparents. And you would be surprised to know that almost everyone said the same thing--just do it! And somehow, some way, by the end of the day, it was beginning to look like the actual logical thing to do. After getting everyone's input, we decided that we needed to pray about it, of course. We went back to BK's room (our ONLY violation of the honor code, I promise!!)--but I still had doubts. In the back of my mind, I just couldn't see how this was going to work out. I mean, even if it was the right thing--how in the world was I supposed to plan a wedding in 1-2 weeks? A wedding that I didn't even know how many people would be able to come to, including important people in my own family--siblings, grandparents, etc. What if I had to call my parents and tell them that I was getting married, and they were welcome to come if they could--but then, what if they didn't?

These doubts were beginning to cloud my mind as we knelt down to pray. Before anything further happened, the phone rang. It was my mom. She said:

"Okay, so I've talked to your Aunt, and just to let you know, everyone's on board with this. We think that you should get married in one week, as opposed to two--because then you'll have more time together. The whole family (siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles) is planning on flying in--so we need to know today, so we can buy plane tickets."

To which I replied, "Well, Mom, funny you should call--we were actually just about to pray about it. Can I call you back?"

To which she replied, "Oh. Yeah. I guess you probably should do that. But call me back so we can make plans!"

It was the answer I needed. Because trust me, if you've got The Colonel's Wife in your corner, she can make stuff happen. Especially if you have The Colonel's Wife AND The Colonel's Wife's sister. I didn't need to worry about a thing, really.

BK and I knelt down again and just looked at each other. How do you even begin to say one of the most important prayers of your life? And who would say it? I told BK I was not going to be personally responsible for this, and that he should pray.

As BK told our Father in Heaven of our plans and that we were wondering if we had His approval on the matter--we both felt instantly good about the situation. As we said, "Amen" at the end of the prayer, we found that each of us had tears of happiness streaming down our faces. BK said, "So. You wanna get married next Saturday?" I hugged him and agreed.

We walked out of the room to find all of his roommates sitting on the edge of their seats, waiting to see what the final decision was.

I said, "Roadtrip to St. George next weekend--Who's in?"

They were all so excited! They began to spread the news in BK's ward, recruiting people to come. We called everyone we knew to tell them and to invite them to our wedding. We had no idea who would show up and who wouldn't be able to (understandably).

If any of you are wondering how to plan a wedding in 6 days, it goes something like this:

Saturday

• Call everyone you know to invite them to your wedding.
• Call both of your bishops and stake presidents to make appointments for the next day for temple recommends.
• Give your parents each others' phone numbers and put the details of the actual wedding day in their hands.

Sunday

• Go to church.
• Pray to make sure that it's okay that you're planning on not only getting married, but receiving your endowments on a week's notice. And asking Heavenly Father if that's okay, because you haven't even had time to read President Packer's "The Holy Temple" yet like you had planned.
• Receive the answer that you've really been preparing to go to the temple your whole life by just making good choices.
• Meet with your bishop and convince him that even though you are 18, you are definitely ready to go to the temple and be married.
• Go with your fiancee to his stake president's interview and be counseled for 3 hours (this is not a joke) about how money and sex can ruin marriage.
• Drive home uncomfortably, trying not to discuss the latter of the marriage "deal-breakers" too much... :)

Monday

• If you're Amy, you should go to your classes and beg for mercy. Mercy=taking a week off classes in college and needing some extensions on tests, papers, quizzes, etc.
• Even offer to take said quizzes, tests early before leaving town if need be.
• Receive yet another answer to prayers, as each and every professor tells you not to worry about it--to enjoy your wedding and to come talk to them about it when I get back. Only at BYU, folks.
• If you're BK, you should go to the Discontinuance office and drop all of your classes that you were halfway through--and get a full tuition refund for your parents.
• Go to the bank and add your soon-to-be-bride to your bank account
• Get a marriage license. Make sure your-bride-to-be has an extra $50 for this because you just bought a flippin engagement ring 3 days ago and you're flat broke.
• Find an apartment for your bride to move all your stuff to.
• Sign a lease on this apartment.
• Move all of BK's things to your dorm temporarily.
• Tell the girls on your floor that you're planning on getting married--and that this will work out well for them, because while you're dining plus card is accruing money while you're out of town, they can use it to have a pizza party.
• Drive up to Salt Lake and pick out a wedding ring for your husband to be.
• Have your husband to be call the jeweler that did your custom engagement ring to see if he can possibly have a matching band by Thursday.

Tuesday

• Watch your husband to be get in his car and drive down to St. George.
• Continue going to your classes, working out details on missing 6 class days of college, while worrying about how in the world you are going to pull your 3.11 GPA from Fall semester up to the needed 3.5 to keep your full tuition scholarship.
• Have 3 seconds to think of an answer when your mother-in-law calls with important questions like: "What flavor cake do you want?" "What color flowers?" "And oh yeah, don't worry about a dress. Tara has agreed to let you wear hers."
• (Click here to read the full miracle of the story that was Tara's wedding dress. Scroll down about half-way. It will be worth your time.)

Wednesday

• Attend a bridal shower your roommate Kathryn was nice enough to throw together at the last minute.
• Skip class because you realize you have GOT to dye your hair if you don't want to look like a scrub in your wedding pictures.
• Call your husband to be and ask how his first day of being a real soldier went.
• Call your uncle to see if he can pick up your wedding ring in Salt Lake City on his way to pick you up to go to St. George the next day.
• Pack your things for your trip south.

Thursday

• Travel to Southern Utah with your uncle, aunt and two cousins.
• Get pulled over in Beaver because everyone knows it's a speed trap.
• Get to Mom and Dad's hotel room in St. George.
• Get ahead on homework.
• Greet family members as they arrive.
• Try to get some sleep.

Friday

• Wake up and try on "your" wedding dress that your mother-in-law just brought over.
• Cry when it fits perfectly.
• Go shopping with Mom and Dad for earrings, make-up, guestbook, cake cutting knife, etc.
• Get a manicure and a pedicure.
• Meet Mom, Dad, Don, Judy, and Grandparents at the temple to receive my endowments.
• Cry a little bit because the army was mean and would only give BK ONE day off, so he couldn't be there.
• Cry a little bit more when Dad received the confirmation he needed that this was the right thing--he ran into a mission companion he hadn't seen for probably 20 years who once a year meets with his brothers in the St. George temple--and it just happened to be the session you were in.
• Make important covenants and feel great about doing so.
• Eat at Taco Bell.
• Go to your mother-in-law's house for another bridal shower your soon to be sisters-in-law put together for you.
• Cry a little more when you run into BK for a minute on his way out to have "male-bonding-time" with his dad while we had our girl time--and he tells you that Colorado doesn't have room for them, and that his unit will actually be up at Camp Williams (In Lehi, Utah--20 minutes away from Provo) for a month before going to Colorado.
• Go home and take an extra-long bubble bath--wash your hair, shave your legs, and just enjoy a quiet moment contemplating the extraordinary day you are about to have.
• Try to get some sleep