The Land of Enchantment

Ever since we decided to move to Richmond, I've been thinking more about leaving Albuquerque. I am surprised by how much I'll miss it. It's a hidden jewel of a city.

For years, I said that New Mexico was my least favorite state. While living in Lubbock, I drove on I-40 across the entire state from Tucumcari to Gallup more times that I can count on our way to Oregon, Utah, or Arizona. That drive jaded my opinion of the state. I would joke that whoever named it "The Land of Enchantment" had it dead wrong. I knew there must be pretty parts somewhere, but they certainly weren't on I-40, or other parts I visited, like Clovis, Roswell, Las Cruces, or Carlsbad (minus the caverns).

When we found out we were moving here for fellowship, I had to laugh to myself (I should add, that while living in Wisconsin, Illinois became my least favorite state). I thought to myself, "Well, it serves me right for always disliking it so much." But Paul was excited for the fellowship, and I thought that for a year, we could make an adventure out of it, packing the year with as much of New Mexico as we could.

We've really done a lot this year. We've tried to do something New Mexican, outdoorsy or artsy or fun, every Saturday that Paul hasn't been on call or the kids haven't had activities.

As a family, we have:
- ridden the tram to the top of Sandia Peak and hiked around
- visited 3 of the trails for Petroglyphs National Monument
- visited the National Museum of Nuclear Science and History
- visited Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge
- hiked to Travertine Falls
- visited Meow Wolf in Santa Fe
- visited Carlsbad Caverns National Park
- sledded on the sand at White Sands National Monument
- toured the Very Large Array
- eaten pie in Pie Town
- visited family in Utah and Arizona (not New Mexican, but fun)

Without Paul, we have:
- hiked the mountains near Santa Fe to see the fall colors
- hiked the backside of Sandia Peak
- hiked along Route 66
- gone to Balloon Fiesta
- gone to the Albuquerque Bio Park (zoo, aquarium, botanical gardens)
- gone to Explora Science Museum
- visited Casa San Ysidro
- seen the Chinese Lantern Festival
- gone to Lantern Fest

Still on our to-do list, to be crammed into the next 2 1/2 months now that the weather is nice:
- Bandelier National Monument
- Bradbury Science Museum in Los Alamos
- Tent Rocks
- drive through the Gilman Tunnels
- play on the Wibit in Santa Rosa
- visit Old Town Albuquerque and the Turquoise Museum
- ride in a hot air balloon
- drive the musical section of Route 66
- ride the train from Durango, CO to Silverton, CO
- visit Mesa Verde National Park

We have less than 3 months til we leave New Mexico and lots still to do (especially since soccer currently controls our Saturday schedule, and we have two races coming up). We literally have something planned every weekend until we leave.

In the process of doing and seeing as much of New Mexico as possible, I've come to love it. I've seen its beauty. I loved its dry, sandy trails. I see the beauty in the rocks and the shallow Rio Grande that I cross daily. I love seeing the Sandia Mountains across the valley every morning. I love the perpetually sunny skies. I love the pink sand and the adobe houses. I love riding my bike down by the river and running on the mesa. I love the obsession over green and red chili. I love the mountains of northern New Mexico and the desert of the south. I love how it is sunny almost every single day. I love how the city has an active vibe, with runners and bikers filling the trails. More than anything, I love the people who have made this place so magical.

As corny as the phrase "bloom where you are planted" is, it really is true. We've lived in a handful of places that I wasn't very excited about initially, but leaving each of them has been hard. You have the ability to make the place you live magical, by loving it for what it is and exploring it and all its beauty.

I never thought that after just a year here, it would be hard to leave. Different than leaving Texas or Wisconsin, it will be difficult in its own way, for different reasons. Our #yearinabq will live in my memory as our year of adventure.

Our view of the mountains from our balcony, during Balloon Fiesta Mass Ascension

The aspen trees near Santa Fe

 Grooming science nerds

 Going up the tram

 The Rio Grande valley below

 At the top of Sandia Peak, we hiked a few miles to reach this stone shelter

 Hiking through the petroglyphs

 Clouds covering the Sandias

 Balloon Fiesta with cousins

 Along the trail to Tranvertine Falls

 No rain for 4 months made the falls very whimpy

 Descending into Carlsbad Caverns

 Inside the caves

 Sledding at White Sands

 Dunes as far as you can see

 Lift off at Bosque del Apache

 The Very Large Array in the New Mexican desert

 Sunset from the tram

 Chinese Lantern Festival

 Exploring Meow Wolf

An extraordinary man

Last night I picked Paul up from the airport after a 3-day Y-90 seminar in San Diego. We went to a new (delicious) Indian restaurant, and I asked how the seminar went - if he felt it helpful, how he would be able to apply it to his work, etc. He started to explain to me what Y-90 actually is, how it works, and how he uses it to help people with liver cancer and other ailments. As he excitedly explained it to me, and showed me a new app that helps him properly determine dosage for his patients, I was suddenly reminded of how smart my husband is. He has spent the last 10 years of his life attaining a very specific skill set of knowledge. He actually understands the science behind radiation treatments, MRI technology, the inner workings of the human body, and can look at white/gray/black images and tell you what is the matter with somebody.

I was reminded of when I met him at BYU, back in 2004. I remember one of the first times talking with him, I told him I was a humanities major with an English emphasis. He opened a discussion on classic literature, and I quickly realized that the astrophysics major, math minor, pre-med guy in front of me was more well-read than I was! It was intimidating at first, but I soon fell in love with him and admired his great brain.

That admiration came rushing back to me last night as he sat across the table, attempting to explain a very complicated topic to his not-so-scientifically-minded-wife. I realized that through this decade-long medical journey we have been taking, he really has become expert at something. I sometimes forget, in the busy-ness that is my life of homeschooling, housework, and kids, that he almost lives another life at the hospital. For Hippa reasons, I never am able to see him at work, so it is sometimes even hard for me to imagine how he actually spends 60 hours every week. I sat there in awe of this extraordinary man who has worked so hard to learn something he loves.

Now, I don't write all this to brag about him, although I do think he's pretty great. I write to remind myself, and anyone else who might be reading, to stop for a minute. Take a look around at the people closest to you. At the people who you see day in and out, who you are with so much that you aren't able to see the changes happening in them. At those who you may take for granted. At someone you might not even take into consideration. At yourself. Take a second look at them and see something extraordinary in them. What makes them stand out to you? What makes them special? I know you’ll find something. I know it will be there. It is in all of us.

C-section soap box

Six years ago with my doctor said that I needed a c-section, I remember crying. Paul was worried that I felt like a failure or something, but I simply didn't want to be limited in the number of children we had. But I accepted my fate, had a decent experience in the OR and with recovery, and was ready to try a VBAC next time around.

Remember how my water broke 7 weeks early with Anna? Well after sitting around the hospital on bed rest for a week and not going into labor, I pretty much expected that a VBAC wouldn't happen. I think I was pretty okay with it. Honestly, my body ached from being on bed rest and I just wanted to have a baby and be done with the hospital. Again, good experience with a great recovery.

With Niels, I searched and searched for a doctor in Texas who would be willing to at least let me try a VBAC, since most docs won't after two. But I also wanted an excellent surgeon, since again, I knew my chances were pretty high that I wouldn't be able to do it. My doctor was willing, but would only let me go to 39 weeks before scheduling something. Honestly, vaginal birth still terrified me, and when 39 weeks came, I was ready to schedule everything. During that third surgery, my doctor discovered that I physiologically would never be able to birth a baby naturally. He also said that I healed well enough to try for a 4th baby.

So now that my fate is sealed and all my babies will require surgery, I've done some thinking and had some experiences. Whenever I tell people I have to have c-sections, I get a variety of responses. Pity is most common. While I know that being cut open repeatedly is not ideal, I really don't deserve any pity. I am able to carry children, where many woman can't. I have had healthy children so far, where many babies are sick or even die at birth. Maybe I need to be more humble, but I don't like being pitied for something that really doesn't matter.

Another response is skepticism, in the sense that I perhaps didn't really need to have c-sections at all...that if my doctor had just let me try a little longer, if I had mentally/physically prepped myself more, and if my doctor hadn't been so anxious to end his shift and go home, then I could have done it vaginally. In essence, they think I failed. This is certainly the most irritating response. Although I know there are many doctors out there who do perhaps jump to surgery too quickly, I for one would be dead if I didn't live in a time when c-sections were possible. When people portray that vaginal birth is the superior way to deliver in all cases, I get extremely irritated. Again, I probably need to be more humble and lighten up. But I have spoken to quite a few women who send this vibe to me when we exchange stories.

And that brings me to the last response I get - indifference. This is the response that I aim to portray whenever women gather together and share birth stories (which we seem to do a lot as women). I don't mean indifference to the story being shared, but to the method of birth. If you want a home birth, go for it! If you want a midwife, great! If you don't want an epidural, more power to you!  If you want an epidural, enjoy it! If you need a c-section, so be it. It really doesn't matter the way you choose to or have to have your baby. Just the fact that you are able to create and carry a baby inside you is amazing. And having a healthy baby is such a blessing. I wish people wouldn't put so much stock in how the baby actually comes out of you and just enjoy the new life that has been created.

Maybe I am a little oversensitive about this issue. Maybe people aren't passing judgment that I was a failure or that I had a knife-happy doctor. But having spoken to other "c-section only" mothers, I am not the only one who has had these reactions from others. 

I know that many people out there don't care how the baby comes out. But hopefully next time you hear a birth story you will be careful that you are aware of how your reaction to your story comes across to the new mother you are speaking too. 

Soap box over. More pictures of Anders to come :)

P.S. One nurse once said, regarding c-sections, particularly VBACs, "Why would you ever want a VBAC? Once you have messed up one part of your body (from birth), why would you want to mess up another part? Just keep them coming out the same way!"

Checking in

(note: i wrote this on my phone so the formatting may be a bit funky)

We've been in Wisconsin for just over a week now, finally rejoining Paul after three and a half weeks of separation while he got his feet wet as an intern at St. Luke's Aurora Medical Center. The kids and I stayed behind at my parents house in Oregon (a post on that is yet to come) so we were thrilled to finally arrive at our new home. So far, so good. Plenty of awesome thunderstorms, lots of using the GPS, and loads of house hunting. We are renting currently, and after owning our home in Lubbock we are hoping to buy again. Paul has been working nights all week which means that after sleeping all morning, his afternoons are open to hunt around with me. So far, no luck but I am hopeful we will find something soon. And I hope the Internet people come soon to hook us up. It's crazy to realize how much you depend upon it when you don't have it.

I am by no means sad to be living here - both my sister and Paul's brother are relatively close, the people here seem friendly, and I have always been one who enjoys and anticipates change. But leaving Lubbock has truly been hard for me. I find myself checking in on Facebook far more than I ever did before, actually staying current on reading others' blogs, and longing to call old friends and catch up. I know I'll make friends here and am excited to do so. But Lubbock will always be a special place for me. A place where I made some incredible friendships, a place where I began to develop into the type of mother I want to be, the place where I received that vision. I feel like I became an adult in Lubbock. I finally stopped feeling the 'youngest sibling complex' where I felt like I had to catch up with my sisters. I understand better what I personally have to offer the world as I have seen the affect I have had on others and that they have had on me. I achieved a new level of confidence in myself. I feel empowered that I can make any city as magical and special as Lubbock is to me. I grew so much there.

And for some reason, the people in Lubbock are especially nice, amazing, friendly, and spectacular. I found numerous friends willing to go to the park at the drop of a hat, ladies who love the same movies, books, and tv that I do, friends who will talk til 2 am, and even a friend who knits, bakes bread and clogs like I do! (except she is FAR better than I) Certainly there were women with whom I had less in common, but there was something about Lubbock that it didn't matter. We were friends anyway because we were both on the adventure of living in Lubbock. I never would have expected, when pulling into town for the first time four years ago, that I would come to love it so much - dust, wind, flat terrain excluded.

So leaving is hard. My friends there are amazing. Hattie always prays for our friends in Texas and asks when we'll be able to visit. Anna still expects to see her friend Lilly at church every week. All these things make being gone difficult. And although I'm not depressed or lonely, I am saddened to know that my friends still gather for play group and book club and presidency meetings and I'm not able to be a part of it.

I hope that you all have a place that means as much to you as much as Lubbock means to me.

Lifesavers

During the past two weeks at the hospital, I have discovered a few things that made the entire ordeal bearable.

- My water bottle - I love this thing. We bought it at REI a few weeks ago. I thought it would be a good bottle to take to the gym since my old one spilled like crazy. But it has proven its worth long before I return to the gym. It doesn't spill and I can drink from it lying down in bed, so at a hospital, it's perfect. I recommend one to all pregnant mothers!

- My sleeping mask - I'm sure I would have never had any sleep while in the hospital without it!

- My own pillow - Hospital pillows are not squishable or moldable. So even though Paul wondered why I brought my pillow with me from Texas, I am more than glad I did.

- Lots of pillows - By the end of my hospital stay, I mastered the use of hospital pillows. I learned how to manipulate them to make the bed more comfortable. In the end I was using 8 pillows to cushion my body and help me be relatively comfortable (true comfort is not possible in a hospital).

- My husband - For 9 nights he slept on a not comfortable bed, in his clothes. He only left my side to get some food for himself, since he quickly depleated his supply of Skittles and Starbursts. He spent hours in boredom. We watched a lot of soccer. But he was always there to talk to me, to hold my hand, and to give me the strength to get through the hardest moments. After Anna came, he spent his days in Ontario with Hattie so that she would have the companionship of her parents for a while. And now he is alone in Texas and having to start school again while his mind and family is here in Oregon. I am so grateful for his patience, his faith, his sacrifice, and his confidence through this all. I am more than anxious to be together as a family again.

- Prayer - There were moments when I thought the physical pain was unbearable, moments when I was scared for the life of our baby, and moments of worry for the stress on our family. But through it all, I felt remarkably calm. Through prayer and the Holy Ghost, I was able to find and maintain peace.