When One Door Closes...

Mike and I left Washington State on Sunday and started our 3-and-a-half week long move to Washington DC. Because of Army bureaucracy and the fact that they typically make their servicemembers move at around the exact same time, movers couldn't be scheduled to get our stuff until the 27th of July--2 weeks after we had to start our drive.

As I went back into the house for one last look to make sure we got everything we were going to take, I happened to see a quilt my mom made for Sophia on the couch. I was hit with such a wave of sadness that I couldn't keep the tears back. I can't tell you how heart-wrenching it was to drive off and leave all our stuff behind and wonder if I'll ever see it again. I know they're just possessions, but they're OUR possessions, filled with memories and nostalgia. I wonder if that's how Sariah felt when she and Lehi packed up a few belongings and set off with their entire family to parts unknown. This has certainly been a test of my faith. At least Mike and I know where we're going and, barring a crises, we will get our things back. But just in case, I hurried and grabbed the quilt before locking up the house. I just couldn't leave it behind with everything else.

It was harder to leave Washington than I anticipated. I had a wonderful three years there. I arrived single and left married to the most amazing, wonderful man and with a beautiful little daughter. My family relationships now extend to the best in-laws that anyone could ever ask for. I have made friendships that I will treasure forever. Career-wise, I have found the perfect fit for me and I couldn't imagine being anything else.

I'm sure our time in Washington DC will be just as happy. We have a house waiting for us. I've met my coworkers and I already like them. The area is rich with culture and history. And Mike and I have many friends there that we just haven't met yet. There are some great memories in DC just waiting for us to make them.

Playing Catch-Up, the Sequel

FEBRUARY
After returning home from Matt and Felicia's wedding, we spend a couple of days at Portland. Mike wanted to go to the mall to pick up a pair of pants..

...or so he said.

When we got married, we only had the diamond ring.  We felt it stood on its own well enough and it didn't have a matching band, anyway. Besides, a lot of couples only have one diamond ring and forego the band, especially if the wedding ring is decorative enough. Apparently, not everyone got that memo. I got tired of correcting people when they asked when I was getting married, including one well-meaning busybody who sat next to me on our way home from Disneyworld a year ago and implied that we were living in sin for sharing a hotel room.

I expressed my desire to Mike to get a band at some point.  We had even stopped by the jeweler where we got the ring and found one that looked good but didn't order it. We just kept the information on file so that one day we could just call up and have the ring sent to us...like around our 5th wedding anniversary or something.

I didn't suspect anything when Mike said he heard there was a sale on pants at the Nordstroms in the mall with the jewelry store where we got the ring. I remained blissfully unaware that anything was going on when Mike suggested we go into the jewelry store to try on more bands. I didn't catch on that something was up even when I told Mike that I didn't want to try on more bands but he insisted we go in, anyway.  I didn't pay attention to the jeweler behind the counter who disappeared to the back when he saw us because I was too busy explaining to Mike that I wanted THE band I had tried on before and no other. It also escaped me that he came back and surreptitiously handed something to Mike just as I was preparing to leave.

I was explaining to Mike what I liked about the other band when he pulled our a ring and said, "You mean like this one?" and slipped it on my finger. It turns out he had called the jeweler back and ordered the ring, then set it up with them so that it would be a surprise when we picked it up.  And it was.

Now nobody asks me when the wedding is and I have reaffirmed what I already knew: I'm married to the most wonderful guy in the world!

I was going to continue my catch-upping, but I'm putting that off today. (See comment about procrastination in previous blog post.) The reason is that there's another post that I want to write about today that simply couldn't wait.

Our move is coming up. The Army couldn't schedule movers before we're leaving for DC, which is beyond stressful for me. Awesome Emily and another woman in the ward said that they would be able to be here when the movers come, but the fact that we take off and leave all our stuff behind is causing significant anxiety. I've been trying to get some stuff packed into bins this week, since I won't be here to oversee the movers doing it. 

While I was going through one of our closets, I found a calendar from 2010. I was about to trash it, but I decided to open it up instead. I found the following notation on the calendar:

This was January 31, 2010, our first official date where Mike drove up from Newberg to my apartment where we made soup together, watched a movie, and had our first kiss. :) The rest of the calendar was filled with other cute notations reminding him of dates we were to go on and when he was supposed to get off work early to drive up to see me. My favorite is this one:

July 3rd was Mike's and my 2nd anniversary. It was very hard to celebrate it in style because Sophia saps up the majority of our time and energy and what's left goes into moving and work. Steve and Emily were so kind to watch our baby girl for a few hours while we took in dinner and a movie. We saw Brave, which I highly recommend. It was wonderful to be together--just the two of us. 

When I saw Mike's cute little calendar reminders, I got all warm and gooey inside. I married such a sweet, romantic man. He makes me a homemade birthday cake then worries that he hasn't done a good job. He randomly comes up and kisses me. His face lights up when I walk in the room just to sit by him. He watches Sophia so that I can nap. He gives me a wake-up call from my nap with the following heart-melting picture:

Thank you for two wonderful years, Mike. You are the best husband anyone could ask for. Happy 2nd anniversary. 

Oh, and here's a gratuitous Sophia picture:

Playing Catch-Up

OK, so if there's one thing I know about, it's procrastination. It's one of my special talents. There are several things that have happened since last October that I never got around to doing for various and sundry reasons, most of which tie in with pregnancy somehow.  I am now going to do an epic epistle blog post to catch myself up.

Why update all of this now, you ask. Well, last week when Mom, Dad, Matt, and Felicia were visiting, we all played a game called "Things." You pick a topic card. Everyone comes up with an answer that fits that topic then you try to guess who said what. One of the topics was "things that are better late than never." The answer I gave was "thank you cards" (another thing I'm great a procrastinating), but later I thought that I should have said "updating the blog."

So here goes, starting with...

OCTOBER
We had our 2nd annual Halloween Feast. Because I was on partial bed rest and also because I suffered from exquisite morning sickness, 2011's Feast was more modest fare: bloody tomato soup and eyeballs, monster feet, and pina ghoulada. 

NOVEMBER
Mike surprised me by planning a Christmas train ride, complete with a visit by Santa Claus.

It was a beautiful fall day. 

We caught the train at Mount Rainier. 

The train ride lasted about 2 hours and went around the base of Mt Rainier.

 Along the way, we were treated to a visit by Santa Claus and got hot chocolate and cookies! 

FEBRUARY

February was a great month. We visited Utah for a week to see Matt marry his sweetheart, Felicia, in the SLC Temple. All three of my married brothers have picked amazing, wonderful women and I'm so excited that Felicia is a member of our family now.

Just prior to our flight to Utah, Mike and I traveled to Portland, where I did a photo Valentine's Day scavenger hunt for Mike like he did for me the year prior. I found four places of historical significant, made clue in the form of a poem for each one, and gave him four Valentine's cards, one for each clue. Unfortunately, I didn't save the poems, so you'll just have to take my word for it that they were brilliant.  

First we went to a Catholic garden that had a replica of Michelangelo's The Pieta.

We then went to a pioneer cemetery just outside of Portland. The tombstone in the middle is a stone relief of the founders of the cemetery.

From there, we went to Downtown Portland. I had found a couple of cool things there but hadn't taken into account that it was the middle of the afternoon on a weekday and we would have to pay for parking (supposing you could even find it). So we just did a drive-by of the remaining two places. The first was the county courthouse, which has a bunch of bronze animal statues around the sidewalk.

The last place that we went to was one of the first churches built in Portland that has an antique organ that's supposed to be really neat. We didn't go in, which is anticlimactic, I know. We had a fun day together, though, and that's what counts.

Now that we have a child, I realize that if we have any blog entries that don't include pictures of or at least mention the baby, it probably won't be read. However, I don't want to be one of "Those Moms" where absolutely nothing else matters or exists to them except their baby.  They're the ones who can't fathom that the rest of the world doesn't want to be updated on every facial expression, bowel movement, and gram of weight gain the baby has. (Thank you, Facebook, Twitter, and Blogosphere.)

We'll start with Mike, then. Mike got to celebrate his first Father's Day yesterday. Among other things, I got him 4-player chess (or 2-player to play two sides each). This is a real sacrifice, as I know I will now probably have to learn how to play the game. He's planning an epic tournament with my brother, Steve, on Wednesday. Sophia got him a counting book about daddy hugs to read to her when she's a little bit older.  

For Mike-centered holidays and celebrations, I always have grand ideas about making him a nice meal. I'll ask him what he wants me to make for him and without hesitation, he'll smile and say "cheesecake." When I try to pin him down for what to make for dinner, he needs time to think about it; sometimes he never gets back to me and we end up having SOS food (Same Old Stuff). Yesterday was no exception. I made him lemon cheesecake and then he said "Well, maybe enchiladas" for dinner, which ended up being just cheesecake. (Monday's lunch and dinner were also cheesecake, which is now gone.)

Michelle news: I finished fellowship and graduated June 1. Luckily, I delivered Sophia a few days before the ceremony, so I didn't actually have to go to the actual graduation, which would have entailed spending $500 on maternity dress blues that I would never wear again. I wish I could focus my maternity leave on being a wife and mom, but the timing of Sophia's arrival has made that impossible. I've had to go into work 2-3 times a week to sign papers, meet with people, and finish up research. I've had to delay my daughter's eating or diaper changing so many times to get things done that it makes me feel guilty. I guess I thought that the pull between work vs. family wouldn't have to start so soon. I suppose it's a good thing, though, because it's forcing me to begin learning how to balance the two. I assume this will be one of those "lifelong lesson" things that you're constantly re-evaluating and refining.  

There was a lot that needed to be done last week with moving and graduation preparation. In finishing a manuscript for research (a requirement for graduation), I dragged along a crying Sophia to many meetings and ignored her while I typed up draft after draft. I finally turned in the final on Thursday last week. The quality of the work was good enough to qualify to graduate, but not to be published in a peer-reviewed journal. This week, my attendings are wanting me to work on it to make it publishable. Now, however, Sophia wins in the Battle of Balancing Life's Priorities. Research can wait.

What can I say about Sophia? She's three weeks old and we love her more every day. As is typical of new parents, we take pictures of everything she does and wears, coo over her every facial expression, and don't see how anyone couldn't agree with us that she's the cutest baby there is. In answer to the most common questions we get, no, she's not even close to sleeping through the night.  Yes, she's gaining weight. No, she's not remotely on any sort of schedule at all. Yes, she's a good eater. So far, we know she loves being held, having her head rubbed, cuddling with Mommy and Daddy, being warm, and listening to music. She hates waiting to eat, diaper changes, baths, and not having her arms free (swaddling is OUT). 

After the above picture was taken, Mike emailed it to the Clarks and asked them to provide a caption.  Here are some of the answers:

-   4-year-old Nicholas said, "I think she's saying 'Sophia' because she already said the 'So.'"

-   She's saying, "Oh no, you didn't!" after Mike took a bite of his ice cream and didn't share with her! (She is a Clark, after all. These things are important to her.

-   Mom! Dad won't share his burrito!

-   Great googley moogley!

-   Oh my, that thermometer is COLD!

I invite anyone who reads this to come up with more.

Welcome, Sophia!

Our little princess was born Sunday, May 27, at Madigan Army Medical Center. We went in around 8:30 pm Saturday and she was born at 10:36 the following morning. In retrospect, I think that I started going into labor on my birthday, but the contractions were unevenly spaced, so I ignored them until they started getting really painful, even though they were still uneven. Finally, Mike made the executive decision late Saturday evening to drive to the hospital. It was good he did, because by the time we reached labor and delivery 20 minutes later, my contractions were quite regular--and 3 minutes apart.

Before we left, Mike gave me a wonderful Priesthood blessing. He said that this baby was a very special spirit selected by Heavenly Father to come to our family. He also said that all our doctors and nurses would be guided as they helped our little girl come into the world, and that through the labor process I would be reassured. At that moment, I had a feeling that her delivery wouldn't be quite routine, but I also knew that everything would be okay.

It turned out to be a very busy night on the labor deck. There were 9 other mothers laboring besides me. We were very blessed that the two obstetricians who had taken care of us through the pregnancy (Dr. Thompson and Dr. Bryant) were both on call while we were there.  The first 8 hours were uneventful and Sophia looked great on the monitor. Then they ruptured my membranes and five minutes later her heart rate started going down...and down...and down...until there was no beep from the monitor. The nurse tried repositioning the ultrasound, and still nothing. And after a minute I felt her little movements stop.

Finally, I said to the nurse (AMAZINGLY calmly, I might add--ask Mike), "You know, it's okay if you're concerned and would like to call for back up." So she did and within seconds our room was filled with about 8 people setting up the baby warmer, giving me oxygen, turning me over in the bed, and paging the OB. After a minute, Sophia's heart rate reappeared and then slowly came back up. During the entire episode, I was (appropriately) concerned but I never felt panicky inside. I remembered Mike's blessing and I knew everything would be OK. They debated taking me for C-section but decided to give me a trial of labor, which Sophia tolerated and 45 minutes later she made her debut. I've never been so glad to hear  a baby cry as I did at 10:36 am.

 Our Sweet Sophia

7 lb 0 oz, 19.5 inches

 Proud Daddy

Happy Mommy

She looked perfect at delivery and she did well in the hospital. We brought her home on Tuesday and have been enjoying being parents. She brings such joy into our lives, which were pretty joyful to begin with. My mom has been here all week, which has been so helpful and so appreciated. I just can't believe how blessed we are to have her here and healthy. Life is so, so good.

Two.

That's how many weeks left I have.  Two.

People keep asking me how I feel. It's a little tough for me to know how to answer that question. Let's see...

Should I mention the flaming fiery ball of heartburn that sits 24/7 in my lower esophagus?
The immense fatigue that has me falling asleep as I type at my computer at work?
The complete inability to sleep, despite the aforementioned fatigue, that has me tossing and turning all night?
The fact that I no longer see myself when I look in the mirror, I see this:

And this:

Lose the cape, then change the flower pattern to camouflage and the sneakers to Army boots and THIS is how I look in my uniform. 

What about the "psycho dreams" (as Mike puts it) that I've been having lately. Example: Last night I dreamed my cankles got so bad that it cut off the circulation to my toes, which all turned black and fell off.
And who has time for that "pregnancy glow" that people talk about when you're running off to the bathroom 42 times a day?
Also, I'm pretty sure that the vertebrae in my back are unionizing and plan to organize a massive strike against me for the pain I've been putting them through.

So...what that essentially means is that I feel exactly the way I should for being 8 1/2 months' pregnant. That might be a good way to answer, except that, despite the laundry list of typical pregnancy complaints, I think that three words sum it up perfectly:

I feel happy.

Our checkups have all shown that our baby girl is growing well and the pregnancy is progressing.
People from home, work, and church have thrown us wonderful showers and made us feel so loved.
Mike, as always, is so supportive and considerate. (Three bouquets of flowers and a silver necklace on Mother's Day. He's the best.)
We're looking forward to visits from family after the baby's born.
I finally get to buy cute baby girl shoes. And clothes. And toys. And decorations. And shoes.

Truly, it's not a bad trade-off in the grand scheme of things, especially when I know there's eventually an end in sight.