Tender Mercies

In my wedding guest book my maternal grandmother wrote, "Rose--the 'love' namesake." I was the third girl to have the middle name of Rose, with my grandmother being the first. Ever since I was little, I hoped to have a girl who I would give Rose as a middle name. I was full of joy when we discovered that we would be having a little girl, and were excited to pass the tradition on to her. She is now the 4th Rose , and I pray, will be able to spread love to all who meet her. I am sure her Great-Grandma Carolyn taught her in heaven before she was born about love and prepared her, in a way, to come down to our family. After Adelai Rose was born, my father-in-law made little rose necklaces, engraved with her name on the back. He gave one to my mother, myself, and my daughter, as well as making a tie tack for my husband. We love them. Adelai is a special girl who is loved beyond a shadow of doubt. She comes from a lineage of strong and courageous women. I hope she n...

An amazing thing happened after I gave birth to my first child: I was proud of my body, swollen belly and all. I expected I would still look pregnant after I had my baby and I was mighty nervous about how I would feel; what I didn't expect was the peace that came with my changed body. I remember changing into my "going-home" clothes as we were preparing to leave the hospital, and I didn't even try to suck in my belly or hide its bulge by wearing my husband's clothes. (Okay, technically I was wearing his pajama bottoms, but anyone who has had a baby knows how impossibly uncomfortable it is to wear formfitting pants 24 hours after delivery!) When Marshall and I went on a mini-date to the grocery store the following evening, I even joked about whether or not people around us were wondering how far along pregnant I was. I didn't care.  My body had sustained life for exactly 273 days.  My body had pushed out a beautiful, perfect little girl.  Why...

Swimming Babes-2006 " What do I do when I get pregnant again?"   I asked. My sweet cousin was on the other end of the phone call when I sought out her wisdom and support.  3 years younger than me, she is in her 3rd pregnancy and ready to deliver her first baby in less than 2 months. She was the first person I wanted to talk to when I miscarried the first time, just 2 months after her ectopic pregnancy back in the spring of 2015. For some reason, I just had this connection to her, like maybe because she was born in the same generation as me and going through similar circumstances, that she would understand. Now, 13 months after my first miscarriage, I find myself going through mental exercises every day to prepare myself to trust my body for my 4th and hopefully successful pregnancy; part of that exercise today was to call my cousin up and have a nice chat about our lives and try to get some insights. We were both strong-headed children growing up--often getting ups...

It is natural for us to make dreams and hopes for our future. I think this is so healthy for us to do because it gives us something to strive for. However, sometimes our future comes and we realize we aren't where we thought we "should be" or wanted to be. We get disappointed, depressed, or just grumpy. We give up. Or we don't. We find a reason to celebrate and find joy in how far we have come. There are so many tender mercies, so many good things that happy in our lives when we try our best every day. These are cause for celebration, which is exactly what I have done. Last year, I kept waiting for when I'd have a cute baby bump so that we would have an excuse to take family pictures. But then I realized I really don't know when this would ever happen and decided that the only reason we needed to schedule a family portrait session was to C elebrate Us!  I hope you enjoy this simple movie as much as I enjoyed making it and reminiscing these past 5 yea...

My husband and I were walking through the parking lot on our way to our friend's law school graduation when we saw a group of 4 or 5 men praying next to their car on mats. There was an elderly gentleman who was sitting on a stool because kneeling was probably too difficult. They were not trying to be conspicuous, nor were they trying to not be seen. They were just being true to what they knew and what they believed. For them, that meant participating in their daily prayer rituals. Just seeing this act made me so incredibly happy inside!  A week prior to this experience, my husband and I had the privileged to have dinner at the home of a dear friend and her husband from my college days.  In their home, my friend's husband said a sweet prayer before we ate, and again, my heart was lifted in joy. Technically, the men praying in the parking lot and my friend from college and I, attend "different" churches. But I don't think that matters.  What matters to ...

It's been nearly 10 years since we first met in California. What started out as just seeing each other once in a while at the ice rink turned into a friendship where we saw each other 6 days a week--encouraging and motivating each other through jump repetitions and new spin variations or coaching little ones how to skate on one foot. There were laughs, tears, sweat, food, and silly pictures involved. We had one thing in common, and that was figure skating.  And yet, despite the high school graduations, cross-country moves, college, vet school, marriage, and time zones, we have still stayed friends. It was the day-in-day-out bonding we had at the ice rink back in 2005-2008 that helped us get to know each other on a deep level that could withstand life's changes.  Even now, nearly a decade after moving apart, we still text, send handwritten letters, and talk on the phone occasionally.  We aren't sole mates. We might have different religious perspectiv...

It is so joyful that my love for cooking runs deep. Deeper than an eating disorder of my past. For a while I was nervous about whether or not I truly loved to cook or if it stemmed from my need to control everything that I ate during my late teens and early twenties--for this is a common facet to eating disorders. But, much to my relief, I found this "cover page" to an old composition notebook I had made when I was 11, intended to fill with my favorite recipes. The date was September 10th, 2001, far before I went through my struggle with orthorexia.  So now I know I can say that I love cooking, for I proclaimed it in that simple notebook 15 years ago. I'm no Martha Stewart, but who cares? The joy that comes from making a successful batch of homemade tortillas after completely messing up a loaf of bread the day before from over-kneading is exactly what I need to keep trying the next day. I've had a lot of failures, but even more successes.  I remembe...

It's a common phrase for women to ask their friends, "what can I do to help?" The usual response to this inquiry is something along the lines of, "oh I'm doing alright, you don't need to help with anything," and then both parties go back to whatever they were doing in their day.   But yesterday I asked for help from my lovely friend (who also happens to be my visiting teacher*). It had been a rough day for me and I didn't have all the motivation or energy to make dinner all by myself, and I knew that If I asked her to help me make dinner when she stopped by for a scheduled visit, she would be willing and we could talk and laugh and get dinner into the oven in half the time it would have taken me to do it alone.  My happy face after a delicious dinner was made by the help of a friend.  I had so much fun spending time in the kitchen with her, cutting eggplant and garlic, whisking eggs, and simmering a fresh pot of tomato sauce on the...

The husband leaves the house every day between 5:30 and 6:30 AM and does not return home until 12-14 hours later. He doesn't have time nor does he make the time to cook up something adequate, and even if he did, he'd be hungry again at 9. If  he ate his lunch then, it would be hard to make it through until dinner. So I devised a plan. On the Saturday or Sunday before the school week begins, I make a big batch of something yummy, and then I divide it up between 5 containers and that's what he takes all week long. I mix it up week to week so he doesn't get bored. Before he leaves the house, he usually has a bowl of homemade granola (see recipe at the end of this post) or homemade  cereal with fresh raw milk to tie him over until brunch when he has time to eat again. A Few Notes: I tend to use the "2 eggs per day" formula when I boil eggs or make the frittata or breakfast burrito filling.  I often don't use a recipe when it comes to the egg dishes.....

March 2011, pre-engagement 5 years ago I fell in love with a boy. He picked me up at my apartment to take me to dinner and was carrying a single rose, chocolates, and a gift wrapped box of light bulbs. Yes, light bulbs. And that is what melted my heart. He had remembered that my dinning room light was burnt out and cared enough to help me fix it because I was a college student, skater, and coach and replacing a light bulb was not at the top of my to-do list.   At the end of the lovely evening, he hadn't held my hand or kiss me. But two days later on Valentine's Day, I found this poem in my inbox:  Physics can be hard, If you don't know what it's about. So I have written you a poem, Hoping it will help you out. It's the MAGNITUDE of you and me, As we fall at 9.8 METERS PER SECOND SQUARED, And the only thing to stop us, Is the RESISTANCE of the air. And with a VECTOR such as this, Our DIRECTION must be true. Because our TERM...

It was as though I clammed up over this past holiday season. Yes, the holidays with family were well spent and enjoyable, however, there seemed to be a sense of sadness that I had a difficult time shaking loose. I enjoyed high points every day filled with smiles and laughter, but I was easily shaken to tears and I often sent myself on "time-outs" to have some alone time. When Marshall and I returned home the first week of January, I knew I had to make a change. I couldn't go on in the way that I had been. Everywhere I went I saw pregnant ladies, reminding me of what I wanted so badly and had lost. No, I couldn't break into tears or run away each time I saw a baby bump because let's face it, I am always going to run into lots of pregnant ladies out there and crying is exhausting and I'll have my chance someday. There are people in my life to love, to cherish, to strengthen. How could I do that for people when I myself wasn't willing to accept where ...

Recently I've been praying really hard to find out what my "calling" is in life. I want a "purpose," a clear direct path to wake up for each day. When I was in college, I assumed I was studying to become a doctor of some sort, thinking I would be practicing medicine until the babies came, but when it came time to apply for grad school, I didn't feel right about it. I didn't further my formal education in that way. After graduation I moved to Alaska where I coached ice skating part time and found satisfaction in that. We've now lived in Kansas for one year. This past spring I was looking into massage school and starting there, only to have the owner of the school ask me to teach one of their night classes because he was impressed with my application. There again, although I wanted to accept, I didn't feel right about it and declined, only to find out the next day that I was pregnant. I felt like it was an answer to why I didn't feel good a...

This guy. I sure love him. Yesterday we celebrated 4 years of marriage by eating waffles for breakfast and then heading out on a lovely 6 mile hike at Clinton Lake. Surprisingly, this was the first hike we have gone on together since moving to Kansas...our bodies sure felt amazing as we walked in the fresh air outside. We ended it with some dancing in our living room to our songs and then a new recipe--Beef Biryani--for dinner. This year's song is Change Your Mind  by Sister Hazel. Marshall and I have both made some pretty big changes, for the better, in our individual lives this year and Change Your Mind  seemed to highlight these changes. The biggest change has been from me increasing my weight by 27% and regaining my fertility. It was so hard, but he stayed by my side and never let me give up. Through it all, I would often comment on how I wanted to be something else or be different, afraid that the changes weren't going to be good. While I do know tha...

Road tripping! My little sister came to visit me for a week this past month--and the cool thing is that it didn't take any convincing to get her to come. But while I was beyond excited for her arrival (which was delayed by 6 hours due to car problems), it took me a good while to actually adjust to the fact that my sister was not a little girl anymore. No, she wasn't the 15-year-old pony-tail wearing naive sister who would do anything I, her big sister, led her to do. Taking Selfies before it was cool. November 2005 Adjusting to a New Normal When she arrived, I saw the 23-year-old returned missionary, Europe traveler, college student working on her Master's degree in accounting, and beautiful young lady who wore her hair in a stylish yet messy bun with a light coating of mascara on her eyes and matching jewelry. My sister wasn't little anymore.  When your car breaks down, all you can do is act silly and wait for the husband (or Best Bud in my ...