Tricky Trichotillomania

So, almost two years is a bit long to wait for a follow up blog post, but what can ya do?
After I wrote "Loving Lacking Secrets" I was so touched by all of the support and great responses I got. It took me a while to respond to those kind words, and I can't remember if I responded back to everyone, but know that if you left a comment, wrote me a message, or said anything about the post, it made a huge difference to me and has given me the confidence to be so much more open.

You might be wondering "why now?" Why decide to write another blog post about trichotillomania now when you haven't said a word about it in so long?
Well, I stumbled across a video on youtube of a girl who also has trichotillomania.
But the difference between her and me is she isn't trying to hide it.
I am blown away by her bravery!
(You can watch her video about her journey here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CiBIXMBEqgE )
Since seeing that video I have come across so many brave women and girls who are also not hiding, but are tackling their trich head on and raising awareness by talking about their struggles.
I found it so inspiring!
Did you know that about 4% or 1 in 50 people in America struggle with trichotillomania?
I sure didn't!
In my last post, I mentioned that it was considered an Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Now it is apparently classified as an Impulse Control Disorder. Honestly, I don't know how comfortable I am with that change. It feels a bit obsessive and compulsive to me, it doesn't feel like an impulse.

Ok, quick overview for those who didn't read the first post about it.
What is trichotillomania? It is where I have the (I guess impulse, but we'll call it an) urge to pull my hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes out strand by strand.
I've had it since I was a freshman in high school (since I was about 14).



I guess what it really comes down to is, I feel like I'm on this journey to be much more accepting of myself and I feel like talking about this is one way I can accomplish that goal.
So we're going to take a quick trip down memory lane here. I tried to find pictures that you can see the evidence of my trich in, but it was very hard to do. There was no such thing as Facebook when I was in high school and camera phones were still relatively new, so there's a lack of pictures of me from when I wasn't so good at hiding it. Which I'm glad and sad about all at the same time.
Lets start before I began to pull.



I'm eight in this picture.
I always had long hair, my mom would put it in a long, thick braid down my back every day.
I would sit for hours most Saturday nights that I remember while my mom painstakingly put it all into foam rollers so it would be curly on Sunday morning for church.



Like this.

My hair has always been my favorite feature, the part of me I was most proud of. Yet at the same time, in the last 12 years, it has also been the thing I hate the most about myself.



This is about a year-ish before I started to pull my hair out. I can't tell you how much I wish I had never started.
I remember the day I began pulling clearly, as if it was even just earlier today.
Probably because every day that I pull feels like I've begun all over again. The emotions never really change.

I was sitting in English class with Mrs. Bartollo... oh gosh does anyone else remember her? That class was crazy!
Anyway, and I just sort of started to pull my hair out.
It didn't hurt.
In fact, there was something satisfying about it.
So I kept doing it.
By the end of the class, I had a pile of hair on my lap that I threw on the ground, hoping no one would notice and say anything about.
When I got home, I opened up my Math book, but instead of working on my homework, I piled hair on top of it as I pulled it out.

It's strange to look back at some pictures from high school and see how thick my hair still was. Even though I had bald patches underneath and around the crown of it.




I can't find any pictures of me when I was pulling out my eyelashes and eyebrows from this time, but I remember trying to hide it with makeup and false eyelashes and being mortified when anyone would ask me if I was wearing false eyelashes.
I even remember lying once and saying that I wasn't (it was pretty dang obvious that I was...they were thick, stage eyelashes).
There's my big confession for the day I guess! Haha!
I remember after a performance (I was big into theater in high school) my dad was standing with me and my friends and he leaned in close to me and looked at my eyelashes and commented that I had been pulling them out.
I don't know if you even remember that dad! I know you didn't mean anything by it, it was just an observation, but when people did things like that and said something, I felt like I was dying from the embarrassment!
Thankfully, that's all I ever really heard about it. No one teased me about it, no one pointed it out, no one bullied me, no one shunned me, or avoided me (that I know of) in high school and for that, I am so grateful.
Because so many girls with this are!

For me, the problem ebbs and flows.
Sometimes it's worse than others.
Mostly it gets worse with stress and bouts of depression.
I have it all the time though.
Today I probably pulled out about 5-10 strands.
It was a good day for me.
As I was reading about other people's experiences with it, I kept coming across people keeping track of how many days they have been "pull free"
Pull free is a foreign concept to me right now.
Meaning, there hasn't been a day in the past 12 years that I haven't pulled my hair.
That was pretty crazy to realize!



This is me at 20.
Six years of pulling had left my hair thinner than it would naturally be, and much more brittle.
As you twist and pull your hair, it begins to break off. That makes sense now, but I had no clue then. I was just constantly frustrated with the insane amount of split ends I seemed to always always have.



Please excuse the face I was making in this one! (Be advised: this is NOT a "duck face". This is my "I look like a muppet" face.)
This is right before I went on my mission.
I had done a fairly good job of keeping out of my hair that year, you can tell because it looks semi even and full. My eyelashes were even doing pretty well and so were my eyebrows.
This was certainly a high point in my struggle with trich.



I chopped my hair off in my first area on my mission. I was in a biking area, in Florida, in July and August and I thought I was going to be there for much longer than I was, so I cut it all off. Biking with crazy long, thick hair, and a helmet is not an excellent combination. It's actually kinda gross.
I so wish I hadn't cut it.
I moved areas in September to one with a car and I began to hate the short hair. I didn't feel pretty with it. My self esteem really took a hit and I began to pull a lot again.



This is me the summer of 2011.
My mission president had told me about a year and a half earlier that it was time to go home because my depression wasn't going to get any better there.
You can see the effects of that and school (I had done a semester at BYU and BYU-Idaho -where I had pulled a 4.0 semester for the first time in my life) in the thickness (or lack thereof) of my braid and the wispy hairs at the top of my head.
This is by far the worst I have seen it.
I didn't know it was so bad at the time.
I remember braiding my hair and wondering why my braid started so thick at the top, but ended up being so short and thin at the bottom.
Even I didn't know how bad it was.




When I met Larry in April of 2012, I honestly can't remember how I was doing with the pulling, but I can see the damage that I was doing/had done to my hair in these pictures.
My hair isn't frizzy normally, so all of that frizz that you see is regrowth from places where I had previously pulled out my hair.
After we were married, I picked up crocheting again. It was a small side hobby of mine before, but I really started going at it then. I started really getting into it partially because I had a lot of stomach issues probably due to stress and so it killed two birds with one stone, so to speak. It kept my mind off of stress which made my stomach hurt so bad I couldn't get out of bed, and it kept my hands out of my hair.
But simply having a hobby hasn't cured it.



This is last August. I was pregnant and I had been really pulling at my hair and my eyebrows. You can see the damage I did to my right eyebrow, I tried to hide it with makeup and my bangs, but I think this particular day we were running late and I had forgotten to shadow the area like I usually did.
One thing about pregnancy, it made my hair crazy crazy thick!
I forgot just how thick till I looked at that picture again!
But, when you nurse, if you aren't careful about your nutrition (and sometimes even if you are careful about it) your hair can start to fall out. Since I don't think I've been careful about nutrition a day in my life, mine started to fall out like crazy. So that, combined with the trich has stolen all of that thick gorgeous hair from me!
It's so weird to look at that picture and then to look at this one:



I don't know if anyone else can see the difference, but I certainly can.
And it makes me so sad.

You might be thinking "Well, why don't you just stop? If you hate it so much, why are you doing it? Don't say you can't, that's just giving up. You are doing this to yourself, don't play a victim."

I don't know how exactly to explain this.
It isn't something that I can just stop. And when I hear that, all I can think is "there's something wrong with me" which begins the vicious cycle- There's something wrong with me, why can't I just be like everyone else, I don't like myself, then the depression sets in, and the self loathing turns into pulling, which breads more self loathing, why can't I stop, look at what I've done to myself- rinse and repeat.
I hope I don't come across as a victim, because I absolutely don't think of myself that way.
There are SO many who struggle with this who have had to shave their heads because the bald patches are so bad, who are mistaken for chemo patients because they have no hair, eyelashes, or eyebrows.
Now, I'm not saying those women are weak, are you kidding? These are the women who are speaking up about it, who are posting pictures of themselves without hair, and makeup. These are some of the bravest women I have ever heard of.
The fact that I haven't ever reached the point of needing to shave my head is a small personal victory.
That is a fight I have won so far and that I keep on fighting every day.
This isn't just about self control.
I don't fully understand why I do it. But I know that when I do, a small part of me feels soothed but agitated all at the same time. Sometimes, I feel better when I do it. I feel comforted. So I keep going.
One of the biggest things people think is helpful to someone who has trich is to tell them to stop pulling when they are around them.
While I understand the thought, if you draw attention to it maybe that can help stop the behavior, it actually hurts more than helps.
For a few reasons, one: I'm frightfully stubborn and independent and when someone tells me to stop doing something...I want to do it all the more, two: I just feel embarrassed and I start thinking about pulling, and it takes that much more effort not to do it.

As I was researching about trichotillomania, I came across a few sites and people with suggestions on how to stop, or how they want to find a cure.
That was a really interesting thought for me and it forced me to consider a very important question that, surprisingly, had never crossed my mind before.
Getting better. Not having a problem any more. "Pull free" days.
But do I want to get better? Do I want this to change.
I'm honestly disturbed by the first thing that came to mind.
No!
I realized that it's comforting to me, it's like my security blanket, it's soothing to me. That's a thought that's festering!
I'd like to change that. I don't want to rely on this condition to make me feel good.
I'm a little disgusted with myself for thinking that I do.
So that's something I want to change.
And while I work on that, I hope you won't mind if I do a few more updates from here on out, if I talk more about it.
I think it's something worth talking about, and learning about.
I hope you'll ask me questions, if you have them. That might even force me to learn more about my condition!

I was so nervous to publish my first post. I was worried people would think I was strange, or creepy, or damaged.
I was so scared, I was physically shaking when I pushed the "Publish" button!
But I was met with so much love and understanding, no one was mean or hurtful, that this time I'm going to push that "Publish" button with so much confidence.
Thank you for that!
I hope you have found this interesting and have maybe even learned something.
Bottom line, everyone is struggling with something. We all hide things we are uncomfortable with in our lives, and they effect us all in different ways. So please, always speak with kindness, always be sensitive to those around you.
I read something that said, with the statistic being 1 in every 50 people have trichotillomania, that means the likelihood of there being more than one person on your friends list with this is pretty great! But not everyone is ready to talk about it.
So please, be loving and kind to everyone around you!
Thank you!

Less Than Three,
Sarah


P.S. This doesn't just effect women, about 80-90% with trich are women, that still leaves 20-10% who are men. Just thought I'd make sure to note that this is not a disorder that only women deal with on a daily basis.
P.P.S. I found this article that is titled "5 Things to Know When Dating Someone with Trichotillomania" but, honestly, I think it is good advice for when you're friends with someone with trichotillomania. So check it out: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/sandy-rosenblatt/5-things-to-know-when-dating-someone-with-trichotillomania_b_3963146.html

It Wasn't Love At First Sight

This is a post I've been wanting to write for some time.
Pretty much since James was born.

While I was pregnant, I struggled.
I'm so incredibly grateful that I wasn't as sick as some women get, I mean my life wasn't threatened and I wasn't put on bed rest and I was so thankful to be pregnant.
I don't know what it is about nausea and morning sickness, but it drains you.
It's like the dementor of pregnancy.
You begin to believe you will never be healthy again and like there's no joy left in the world!
When you're that sick, it's hard to be excited about having a baby.
I remember my dad was really concerned that I was going to be a detached mom.
He kept saying that when the baby was born, I'd instantly fall in love with it.

But I didn't have some huge love at first sight moment.

It was so different from that.

It came quietly.

Almost gently.
I looked at him and the love gracefully settled into my heart, like remembering.
It felt natural, as if he had always been a part of my life and I had always loved him.
I thought "Oh, yes. James. I know you. And I have loved you with everything in me since before I can remember."
I imagine, and hope, it will be like that with all of my children.

I've always felt this immense love in my heart that I used to want more than anything to share with someone, and it just feels like with each life I add to mine, I'm giving that love a name.
First was Larry, and now I've added the name James.

And he's perfect.
His smile is sweet and infectious.
I've heard a lot of moms say that it was love at first sight with their babies.
I don't like that, "love at first sight" it connotes that the love wasn't already there.
That it had a beginning.
It wasn't like that for me.
And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Less Than Three,
Sarah

I Don't Want My "Pre-Baby Body" Back

So, I'm a little tired of being on Pinterest and seeing more than a few pins about "how to get your body back after baby!" or recipes for homemade stretch mark creams.
And I started wondering,

Why are so many people so concerned with their pre-baby bodies?

This is going to be another one of those posts that feels frighteningly personal to me.
Because I'm going to admit something that I don't even want to admit to myself.

I have an unhealthy relationship with my body.

I know I'm not the only one.
Since high school, I have criticized my body, feeling like it wasn't skinny enough, tan enough, etc.
I remember going to tryouts for drill team before my freshman year, being concerned about having to wear shorts that showed my pale anti-thigh-gap legs.

I'm so tired of hating myself! I'm so tired of hating my body!
And you know what?
I don't want my pre-baby body back.

And here's why.
When I met Larry, I was back to the weight and size I was when I graduated high school.
I had waited years to get back to that!
Even though, when I graduated high school, I thought I was big.
I was a size six!
But the only way I had made it back to that size was because I had basically lived out of my car and on kind friend's couches for a month or two the year before while I tried to find a job to stay in Provo. I lived on about three dollars a day. Which got me three chocolate chip cookies and a large Dr. Pepper at McDonnalds. That kick-started my weight loss. I didn't get to that weight in a healthy way.
The majority of that loss was done the semester before I met Larry, by not changing what I ate, but how much. And a little bit of exercise.
The problem is, even after attaining my size six again, I STILL felt like I wasn't skinny enough.

I didn't have a healthy self image.
I still don't.
And I want to change that.

Here's my point.
What I hate about the idea of getting "my body back" is
it's not MY body anymore.
It's not!
I had a baby!
I shared my body with that baby for nine months.
And I plan on having more children.
It will never be MY body again.
What is so wrong with that?
What is so wrong with having a little bit of cushion?
I'm not unhealthy.
I'm not obese.
I'm me.
Why is that wrong?

You know what, I don't have time to exercise! I have a baby! Who needs played with, fed, and loved.
I can't even imagine having more than one and trying to make exercise a priority.
Honestly, I really look up to the moms who do!
Good for them!
That's great!
But just because they have found a way to work weight loss into their already busy day doesn't mean that I am, in any way, less.
It doesn't mean that I'm unattractive.
It doesn't mean that I'm a bad person for not being able to figure out how to accomplish that yet.

Even two years ago when I had lost the weight that I wanted to, I still wasn't happy with myself.
Because I'm still learning how to love myself no matter my dress size.
That's what I want to see.
I want to see less pins and blog posts about how to prevent stretch marks (that whole thing irks me too, but I won't get into it now...but...who the freak CARES if you have stretch marks??) and how to get your body back.
I want to see pins and blogs about how to accept yourself at any size, before baby, after baby, while you're pregnant, at any point in your life.

Quite frankly, I'm more concerned about learning THAT before my poor self esteem rubs off on my kids than I am the fastest way to get rid of my "mom arms". Because I know it will if I don't get a handle on it.
I don't want my daughters to be worried about their hips, bust, waist, or thighs! I want to teach my daughters to be beautiful women no matter their outward appearance. I want to teach my children to be confident in themselves and to be good people.
And I can't do that unless I am.

I suspect that I'm not the only woman who wants, more than anything, to stop worrying about her size, or the social pressure to loose weight when there's really nothing wrong with me as I am right now.
If I happen to loose weight in the future, I want it to be because of a healthy lifestyle and because I'm running to keep up with my kids.
Not because I'm killing myself in a gym or spending time sweating buckets doing extreme living room workouts because I want to be thin and look like the ultra pretty girls on Pinterest.
I want to feel good about myself.

So I'm making that commitment to myself.
I'm not going to commit to loose any weight.
If it happens, it happens. Great.
If it doesn't, I'm still me.
I'm a mom and I don't regret giving my body to my children.
Because it's not about me and "my body" anymore.
It's about a little boy named James.
So I'm going to do better about not criticizing myself in the mirror, hating the indiscriminate parts of me that make me who I am.
Maybe I can be a positive role model for my children someday.
That's what I'm going to concern myself with.

Less Than Three,
Sarah



(I hope no one takes this as an attack on moms or women who have made it their goal to get in shape and live healthy lifestyles. Like I said, I really do look up to them and I wish I could be more like them. Living healthy is an incredible feat! For me, living healthy is also about my mental outlook. And that's what I hope to work on)
(Photo credit to Kylee Matthews at Kylee Alyssa Photography for the first picture and Terry Hess for the second)

Changes!

Guess what?!
We're going to Washington!
Right after James was born, Larry and I were praying (we knew we were supposed to be doing something this year, we just didn't know what or where or when) and we got the answer that we need to move and we need to do it NOW.
So we started assessing our options, we thought about Logan and getting Larry into USU, we thought about Provo and doing school there, and then we thought about Washington.
And everything started to fall into place.
Larry has a job up there and we found a place to live and our move in date is March 1st!
That's right.
We're moving to Issaquah!
Which is crazy.
Honestly it had never crossed our minds before. My parents had moved and the cost of living is higher there and it just wasn't on our radar.
But I'm pretty excited. I'm excited for something that more closely resembles seasons, rain, trees, THE TEMPLE (oh my gosh I'm thrilled to be so close to a temple again!), and for Salmon Days, and to get to take James to Snowflake Lane (he'll be so much fun at Christmas time!! He'll almost be a year old and I just can't wait!), and for parks, and family excursions, and friends, and maybe even SNOW!!
We'll even be moving into my home ward!
So we're going to be seeing you soon Issaquah 1st!!

It will be hard to not be around family anymore, but thank heavens for Skype!

So that's our big announcement!

I hope you are all doing well and enjoying your day!

Less Than Three,
Sarah

ItsSarah Wehadababy Eeetsaboi

(So... I started this about 23 days ago...Sorry it took me so long to finish it!)

Oh man.
I'm warning you, this may quickly turn into a very long post!
What is included:
PICTURES! I was supposed to be napping today (my mom got mad at me when she came in and found out I wasn't) but instead I snuggled my baby and took about a zillion pictures of him...I CAN'T HELP MYSELF!!
Birth story!
How I feel about becoming a mom!
And I think that's it, but we'll see how it goes.



So, we'll start with the story of how our little one was born.
Monday December 23rd I had a doctor appointment but my regular doctor was out so I saw someone else in the office. It turned out that my blood pressure was a little high and there was some cause for concern so the doctor decided to send me over to the hospital so they could run some tests and make sure everything was ok.
Seeing as this was my third time going to the hospital to "get checked" (I'd been having pretty much ongoing, regular contractions for about a week and a half at that point) I figured third time was a charm and maybe, just MAYBE, I'd be walking out of the hospital with a baby!
So they took my blood, ran some other tests on me and the baby, and we had a quick ultrasound. The last time we had an ultrasound, the tech was pretty surprised about the amount of amniotic fluid I had. I had about as much fluid as I did baby which is fairly unusual for that stage of pregnancy. But no one said anything and we figured everything was fine.
During the ultrasound on Monday, the tech mentioned the amniotic fluid again but no one told us anything or mentioned anything and we were sent home AGAIN. When we voiced our frustration to the nurse, she understood and was very kind in validating our concerns.
I am so grateful for what she did next.
She told us that there was some need to be careful about when my water broke because of the amount of amniotic fluid I had. When we asked her what she meant she just told us that when it broke it would be best to either drive to the hospital with me laying down or, really, to call 911 and get an ambulance to pick me up since we live so far away from the hospital.

So when I got home, I looked up what she was talking about.
Apparently I had what is called polyhydramnios. It's when you have an excessive amount of amniotic fluid and it can cause a number of complications should your water break, especially if it breaks at home.
The two largest complications are a prolapsed cord where the umbilical cord comes out with the fluid and the baby's head descends on top of the cord, cutting off the blood supply to the baby, and placental abruption where the placenta detaches from the wall of the uterus depriving the baby of oxygen.
Pretty scary stuff!
And the most concerning part of it was that NO ONE had said a word to us about any of it. Thank heavens that nurse did because if she hadn't, we never would have known we needed to be concerned and (I learned after some research) had my water broken at home we most likely would have lost the baby since we live an hour and a half away from the hospital.
So when we left the hospital on Monday they said they wanted me to come back in to recheck my blood pressure in a few days.
I found all of the information Christmas Eve so Christmas wasn't exactly the most relaxing this year!
We decided that I'd go back to the hospital to get my blood pressure checked and that we'd insist on talking to the doctor about our concerns.
When we got to the hospital, I ended up with a fun nurse...sarcasm implied...who was very confident in her 33 years of experience. When we talked to her about the due date confusion she put up a pretty big fight that I was only 39 weeks and absolutely NOT 42. I believe my favorite part was when she said something about she'd been nursing for 33 years and this was only my first baby. Oh and that there was NO WAY that I could be 42 weeks because my body would have already naturally had the baby because NO ONE goes to 42 weeks.
After the baby was born the doctor told us that my body would never have gone into labor on its own because the baby couldn't get into position to put pressure on the cervix to get everything dilating and moving, it took everything I had not to go back to triage and rub that in her face...
Anyway, we put up enough of a stink that they finally called the doctor on call and brought her in to talk to us. And she completely agreed that it wasn't safe for me to go home and wait for my water to break. She said the only way I was driving another hour and a half was with a baby when I was taking him home.
So they admitted me!
Then we waited for a long time. We waited for them to bring in another ultrasound technician to check the amount of amniotic fluid I had. On Monday, my amniotic fluid was at about 27. On Thursday, it was 37. The doctor came in and told me the game plan was to give me an epidural (AMAZING btw), break my water slowly, start me on pitocin, and have a baby!
So that's what happened.
And around 9 AM Friday morning they had me begin pushing.

So I pushed.
And I pushed.
And I pushed some more.

And then I felt the baby move.
And when they checked the baby to see if he was still descending, they found that he hadn't budged since they checked him the last time. The doctor came in again and, come to find out, the little bugger had rotated so his body was facing up and to the right and he couldn't go down any more.
So they decided that it would be best if I kept pushing and see if he would move again and be able to descend again.
So we kept going.
Till I had been pushing for three hours.
The doctor came in again, said that she felt the best decision would be to take him C-Section. She said that I had been pushing for so long my body was tired and she didn't want to put it through trying to turn the baby, and pushing more.

I've had this attitude about the whole birth thing, that it's birth. I can't control it, so I might as well roll with the punches. I educated myself the best I could about the process and had an idea of how I would like for it to go, but my heart wasn't set on it. I knew things could potentially come up that would prevent me from having the most ideal delivery. So when the doctor suggested a C-Section, I didn't worry too much about it. I mean it made me a little nervous, I've never had real surgery and there's a lot that's kinda scary about it. But I trusted the doctor and I felt that was what needed to happen, so I had no problems with that outcome.

So they took me in to the operating room to get me prepped.
I must say I was so grateful for the anesthesiologist. I could tell the nurses didn't really love him, but he really became an advocate for me while Larry was waiting to be allowed in the room. He noticed when I wasn't comfortable and took measures to make me more comfortable. I ended up still being able to feel so they had to completely knock me out, honestly I was grateful for that.

It was a little strange to go to sleep pregnant and wake up not pregnant and have my baby wheeled in the room.
I don't remember a ton from when I first woke up, I remember asking if the baby was ok and being told that he and my husband would be coming in shortly. I also remember seeing James for the first time and my thoughts.
My first thought was "He's so little!"
The doctors had been telling me for weeks that we were going to be having a big baby. But he was so little! I wasn't expecting it! He was 8 lbs and 2 oz when he was born, but he still looked so so tiny! He ended up losing a lot of that and at his smallest in the hospital was 7 lbs flat.
My second thought was "He's so perfect."
And he is.
He is so incredibly perfect.








(That's one of my favorite pictures of Larry and James so far)


We were in the hospital for longer than normal due to two things, the doctor told me that I had basically done both - I had almost had a vaginal birth and I had a cesarean so my body is going to take longer to recover since it was so tired by the time they decided to just go in and take him. The second was he was a little jaundiced so he spent a night under the uv lamp and was better by the morning when they finally let us leave.
So we brought our baby home on New Year's Eve.
And I got to have the best start to my 2014, just hanging out with my baby and Larry.

Larry is loving being a dad. He gets nap times with the baby sleeping on his chest and I swear I have NEVER seen anyone so excited to change a poopy diaper. He's an amazing dad!

A lot has happened in the month since he has been born (well, a month on Monday but close enough)
He is finally fitting into his newborn clothes (we didn't buy many since we were going to be having such a "big baby")
From the day he was born he has been lifting his head like a pro. He can basically lift half his body up...it just depends which end he wants to lift up during tummy time and it's hilarious to see him sticking his butt and legs in the air!
He has already figured out rolling over!
It has certainly been the most difficult thing I've ever done, and we're still getting used to it. But I have the most beautiful baby boy and I wouldn't trade that for the world.






My favorite picture thus far!


It's so strange to think that James is a little person who will walk and talk one day. That he'll grow up. I'm trying to enjoy the fact that he's just little right now, and I'm trying to appreciate these first few days and weeks because he won't be a baby forever.
This stage of our lives together is fleeting and it will be over before I know it.
I'm also cataloging the things I can give him heck about for the rest of his life and all the ways I look forward to making him feel awkward. (Because, as we've all learned, I excel at awkward)

So that's all for now. Keep watch for some new announcements coming soon about some changes we are hoping to make this year! I hope you all had a fantastic Christmas and New Year and that your January has been excellent so far!

Here's to an incredible 2014!

Less Than Three,

Sarah, Larry, and James

And now for a few extra pictures




(Hope you don't mind me putting this picture up mom! Love you!)

Have Yourself a Merry Little Baby... wait...CHRISTMAS!!...I mean Christmas...

Sooooo it's been a while...sorry about that! I had every intention of writing more frequently, I even have three drafts saved on here that I just never posted!
My other excuse is that I've had baby on the brain...if you couldn't already tell!
So, are you ready for my long story?
I haven't written too much about what exactly has been going on with the whole baby situation for a multitude of reasons. One, I wasn't sure anyone would really be interested in all the nitty gritty details. Two, I'm a pretty shy and private person. (Even though if you catch me in the right mood, I can be queen of the over share...not sure how that works!)
And I just don't like to complain! I've felt like the important part was that we were having a baby, and I needed to be grateful for that and find the humor in all of the insanity that has surrounded our lives since we found out we were expecting! (I've found pregnancy to be a pretty funny thing, it's one of those "if you don't laugh about it, you'll loose your mind" kind of things. At least that's what my personal experience has been!)
So here's at least part of the whole story.


Mother's Day! We had just found out we were pregnant the day before and surprised Larry's Grandma with the news!
Happy Grandma's day indeed!

I'll spare you the excess details of how severe morning sickness kicked in basically the day we found out we were pregnant and has never really fully gone away, mingled with all of the other health issues I've had with this pregnancy and we'll skip to the part when we got to see our baby for the first time and find out what we were having, because that's really when all the insanity set in. (If not being able to really eat or move wasn't insane enough!)

So we went to have our first ultrasound and we could see the baby perfectly! We loved our ultrasound tech, she let us know everything she was doing, step by step, so that we didn't have to wonder what on earth we were looking at! We also loved that there was a huge tv screen in front of us we could see the baby on so we didn't have to crane our necks to stare at a tiny computer screen.

As she was measuring all of his limbs, she was measuring VASTLY inside where we thought his limbs began and ended which resulted in calculating his due date as January 2nd instead of the original date we had of December 12th. When she measured his limbs a little closer to where we were seeing them, they were consistent with the original date. So we began to be confused! As she scanned his head, we saw a few cysts. The ultrasound tech said that they could be totally normal, but that she wanted to make sure the doctor saw them and told us that he would probably want to talk to us about it. The worry became that the baby was so much smaller than he was supposed to be and that these cysts could be causing the problem and could be a sign of a disability. So they ordered another ultrasound for a few weeks later to make sure the baby was growing the way he was supposed to.
I don't know why, but I wasn't too worried about it, I knew it was going to be ok. No, I do know why, the Lord had already given me the assurance that everything would be alright.
So we didn't tell anyone because we didn't want to cause unneeded concern or stress, and because it DID end up being ok.
But for a few weeks we waited to find out what was going on with our little one. We went to California wondering and tried to put it out of our minds as we enjoyed celebrating our friend's wedding and our own first anniversary.
We went back to get the ultrasound and the cysts had shrunk and the baby had grown and all was well.


Our one year anniversary! (We won't be doing that again while I'm pregnant...It was fun! But EXHAUSTING!)


The first sonogram! Cute little thing!

Like I said, the cysts were totally normal, they're gone now and there's nothing wrong with the baby.
He is completely healthy!
(Yes, we're sure :P)

But that was certainly a fun roller coaster! So, then we had the battle of the dueling due dates!
Here's my issue with them changing the due date: usually they won't change your due date after you are 12 weeks because eating habits and genetics begin to play a part in the size of your baby after that point. Not to mention I was barely coming out of being able to control my nausea, so I hadn't been able to really eat up to that point. AND we found out a few months later that I have been anemic! Apparently pregnancy related anemia has been known to cause low birth weight. All of those things could have played a part in our baby being a little smaller, and we've felt all along that the December due date was correct.

But the doctor has been adamant that the second due date is the true due date. So my weekly appointments didn't start till last week when, according to them, I was 37 weeks.
As the doctor was checking everything, she seemed confused that my stomach was measuring full term and that the baby was estimating to be about seven pounds! (Perish the thought!) And she seemed a little surprised that I was dilated three centimeters (for those who don't know, heck I never did till now, you are considered in labor when you are dilated to four centimeters and experiencing contractions) and that I was about 50% effaced.
She was concerned that now the baby could be getting too big so she ordered another ultrasound. So Thursday, my original due date, we went in for another ultrasound. And guess what? The baby was all of a sudden measuring that he was 40 weeks and fully grown! (Funny what being able to eat and getting some much needed iron will do for you...)
The fun part about that particular experience was that we had a much less kind ultrasound tech, and she kept telling me the baby was huge and giant...which, by the way, are NOT the things you want to hear when this is your first kid and you're already scared to death that you're going to have a huge baby and your delivery is going to be a nightmare! The baby isn't even big!! He's right on target with where he should be! Is he big for 37 weeks? Yes, because he's not 37 weeks, he's 40!!!!
Anyway, so that was fun!


Us on the baby's due date! We were hoping we would be able to say this was taken days before the baby was born... No such luck! I guess we'll just take another picture!


Baby's last picture before he comes! Let's just hope it's soon!!

I've been having a few contractions every day for probably a month now, but Friday night I had more than I was used to having. They continued all night and all day Saturday (we cancelled our tickets to go see the new Hobbit movie, on the off chance we'd need to go to the hospital, because the movie theater is almost an hour in the opposite direction of the hospital and the hospital is an hour away from where we live! A two hour drive while in labor just didn't sound like a good idea.) So Saturday night they finally increased in intensity and we decided it was better to be safe than sorry and to just go to the hospital and get checked out. Not a pleasant experience. I was having pretty intense contractions, but they weren't doing anything. So they made sure the baby was doing ok and sent me home. The contractions continued most of the day Sunday and Monday I had my next appointment.
This time, the doctor was much more willing to admit that I could be hatching sooner rather than later! Progress!
She checked me and told me I was ALMOST at four centimeters dilated, that I was a few millimeters away and that the water sack was prime and ready to go and that I was about 70% effaced. She had thought about stripping my membranes but that would very likely have broken my water so she didn't do it. She said it could be hours or a few days but that it wouldn't be long! That there was MAYBE a 50/50 chance that I'd be making it to my next appointment next Monday.
So we went home and I had lots of contractions, lots of intense contractions! But they weren't regular so we went to bed and waited.
Tuesday the contractions almost stopped entirely. Wednesday night they picked up again and lasted all night long! So, being cautiously optimistic we went into the hospital yesterday morning to get checked.

Apparently my body has done the impossible.

I've digressed.
The nurse said I was dilated to a two, maybe a three, that the baby wasn't anywhere near being in the right spot and had actually moved up from where he had dropped down, and that I wasn't even 70% effaced. She gave me a shot of a pain med that is supposed to take the edge off of real contractions and chase fake contractions completely away to help let my body relax from being in constant pain and hopefully dilate like it's supposed to. So we waited an hour and the contractions got less intense and you could see on the monitor my body finally starting to relax just a little. But the contractions were still there, so they are real contractions, but when the nurse came back to check me, nothing had changed. I was still about three centimeters dilated. Real contractions do something to your body, they help you dilate, so apparently I'm having real contractions that are also fake!
So after the better part of the day was spent in the hospital, they sent me home and the nurse seemed to think I wouldn't be back any time soon.
The pain medicine wore off and the contractions came back and have been going all night and, so far, all day today. Yet, I'm STILL not in labor. I'm not sure if it's my body being stubborn, or the baby being stubborn, but I sure wish one of them would make up their mind and kick me into gear!!

The doctor doesn't want to induce me because that would potentially heighten my risk of needing a c-section, but my thought is that the longer he is in there, the bigger he is going to get, which is going to increase the risk of a c-section. So, that doesn't make a whole ton of sense to me, but oh well! I'm about two inches from going in there Monday and just begging them to induce me!

In the mean time, Aphrodite apparently got into something, we're not sure what or how, and has had...well, we'll just say she's been sick for the past two days. Thankfully she's feeling better today, but that is only thanks to the fact that we made a frantic call to the vet last night because we were pretty worried about her! For some reason, that just seemed like the cherry on the top of, what has felt a little like everything falling apart. (Which you would think would be the EXACT moment the baby would decide to come, but no amount of chaos or stress can get this bugger to make an appearance!)

So, I'm trying not to worry about it.
If I go into labor, great! If I don't, no big deal!
(Easier said than done since I've been so over being pregnant since the first time I lost my cookies in May!)
I'm hoping he comes sooner than later, for a plethora of reasons, mostly because I want to get to have Christmas at home with my new baby and enjoy it with the family around instead of at the hospital.
We'll see what happens! I'm working on that whole having faith in the Lord's timing thing...apparently I haven't learned that yet!
Anyway, I hope that everyone is having a wonderful week before Christmas and that everyone has a fantastic one!
Here's hoping that the next time I write, I have a baby to show you and tell you about!
Oh, and if anyone who has snow would like to send me some...
I'LL TAKE IT OFF YOUR HANDS!!
Gladly!!

Less Than Three,
Sarah

P.S. If I have forgotten to respond to any messages anyone has sent me (facebook, texts, emails, etc.) in the last week or so, I appologize! Traveling back and forth to the hospital, religiously timing contractions, and frantically wrapping the last of the presents (just in case I don't get a chance to later) has taken up every ounce of sanity and ability for thought I have left! Sorry about that!

Jesus Wept

(I wrote this on Monday, but I felt like I should wait to post it. So I'm posting it now instead)



Today has been harder than most.
There has been so much going through my mind.
So much I've wanted to say, to somehow express my feelings about the tragic death of a dear friend of mine and my family's.
I can't stop thinking about his mother and I am praying that she is being blessed with the comfort she needs.
I could talk about how he was a wonderful person, how we all thought he was headed for great things, how he's in a better place.
But we all know that.
We all feel the loss of such an incredible person.

There seems to be so much sadness right now, I can't even tell you how many stories I've seen lately about babies lost, or missionaries passing.
The Lord seems to be calling so many angels home.
As I've been thinking about all of these things, I keep thinking about the end of the movie Charlie when Sam is talking about how Jesus wept when he came to Mary and Martha after their brother Lazarus had died. It has been a long time since I saw the movie but, as I remember he points out the significance of the fact that Christ knew that it was going to be ok, that it was going to turn out alright. But he took that moment to cry with the grieving sisters, to comfort them when they needed it.
He knew they had knowledge of the Plan of Salvation. He knew that they had faith in it, that they knew they would see their beloved brother again. Yet he didn't scold them for crying and being sad.
Instead he wept with them.

It's ok to be sad. It's ok to mourn the loss of someone so close to us.
When these things happen we tend to hear so much about how we shouldn't be sad. How that person wouldn't want us to be. We almost start to feel guilty about feeling, keenly, our loss. But I think the Lord and our loved ones know that we need to mourn, we need to weep sometimes. Yes, it's ultimately going to be ok. Yes, this is when the incredible Plan of Salvation should be a comfort to us. This is the time when we can really experience and appreciate the atonement and its ability to heal some of the deepest wounds.
Those are important things.
But it's also important to allow time to grieve.

Sometimes our strongest moments are born from the tears we have shed and the sorrows we have felt.

I hope to raise strong children and I hope that I also raise them to understand that it is ok to be sad, it is ok to cry, it is ok to mourn. Because, to me, that is also strength.

There is so much that I would like to say about my friend. Right now, it's hard to find the words.
So instead I'll just say that I hope we all continue to keep Peter and his mom in our prayers and be sensitive to the family's needs and requests at this time.

A quote and a song keep coming to mind when I think about Peter passing. The quote is by Jeffrey R. Holland from my favorite talk. The talk is titled "For Times of Trouble" and it has been a great help and support to me for many many years. The quote goes:

"In the gospel of Jesus Christ you have help from both sides of the veil and you must never forget that. When disappointment and discouragement strike - and they will - you remember and never forget that if our eyes could be opened we would see horses and chariots of fire as far as the eye can see riding at reckless speed to come to our protection. They will always be there, these armies of heaven, in defense of Abraham's seed."
The song is Nearer My God to Thee. It became one of my favorite hymns when I was on my mission. But I keep thinking about the last verse. It goes:

"Or if, on joyful wing
Cleaving the sky,
Sun, moon, and stars forgot,
Upward I fly,
Still all my song shall be
Nearer my God, to thee,
Nearer my God, to thee,
Nearer to thee!"
I hope you all know that I know the gospel is true. That we have a loving Heavenly Father. That I believe, firmly, in the blessings of the temple.
And I am so grateful for that knowledge.
My thoughts and prayers are with all of those I know who have recently sent angels to be with their Heavenly Father. I hope the knowledge that they are now part of those armies of heaven and that they are now nearer to Him is some comfort in such difficult times.

Less Than Three,
Sarah

For more information about the Plan of Salvation, go here
http://www.lds.org/bc/content/shared/content/english/pdf/language-materials/36950_eng.pdf?lang=eng

For the talk by Jeffrey R. Holand, go here
http://www.lds.org/new-era/1980/10/for-times-of-trouble?lang=eng

And to listen to a great version of Nearer My God to Thee, go here
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PKsr49csFYk