Pregnancy Journey

So I'm finally probably going to have a baby.

From the interjection of "probably," it's likely pretty apparent that I'm still a bit in denial. But you guys have got to understand--for years, I've so successfully compartmentalized the act of being pregnant from its normal outcome (a child), that it's hard to bring the two back together.
Let me explain.

First Miscarriage

The first time Ben and I decided that we should expand our family was early in 2014. Things seemed to be going just peachy (and by peachy I mean I was super sick and wanted to die inside). Anyway, towards the end of my first trimester I go to my first ultrasound. At first I'm just told that the doctor is having a hard time seeing the baby clearly due to my scar tissue. Okay, fair enough. So they decide to do a different type of ultrasound. The technician takes me into a separate room where she proclaims I'm measuring 6 weeks. Confused, I tell her I'm much further along than that. At that point, she leaves the room to get my doctor, who tells me that I've had a miscarriage. You see, I had what they refer to as a "missed miscarriage." There is no heartbeat and the fetus is no longer viable, but your body just hasn't realized it yet. I chose to have a D&C a week later. (Side rant: if you are Mormon, puhhhhhlease do not refer to Doctrine and Covenants as "D&C"; the rest of the world associates this abbreviation with this procedure. Thank you.)

To say the least, Ben and I were devastated. I was so traumatized by both the emotional heartache and the physical duress I went through during the pregnancy that I refused to even think about trying again for two years.

Ectopic Pregnancy

Last summer, Ben and I decided that we were emboldened enough to try again. During this time, about a week and a half after a "period," I started lightly bleeding. For about a week. Weird, right? But I ignored it because I was too busy with work. But then I started cramping and getting a sharp pain on my right side. So I call the nurse at my OBGYN and she tells me to go to the ER. After some tests, the doctor walks through the door and asks, "So you didn't know you were pregnant?!?" 

I was shocked. So apparently, guys, I'm that weird person who gets a period even though they're pregnant. Go me. But at that point they tell me I've already miscarried because they didn't see anything in the ultrasound. But then I see my doctor on Monday, and I'm told that my HCG levels are too high for me to have already have miscarried. And they sprinkle some other hopeful words like, "maybe it's too early to see anything." Spoiler alert: it was ectopic. The original confusion was thanks to that silly period. My hypothesis is that my HCG levels were rising so slowly (as they do with an ectopic) that my body just short circuited. Because the opposing theory--that I was somehow 4 weeks pregnant a week after what would have been me ovulating--just doesn't cut it.

So after more pain that wouldn't go away, they decided it was ectopic and they gave me a drug called methotrexate to make me miscarry. Fun fact: this is a drug used in cancer treatment, because its essential function is to kill rapidly dividing cells. Like cancer. Or in my case, a fetus. 

Surgery

There was an unintended consequence of my ectopic pregnancy (and I'm not just referring to a now blocked tube). Nope, when they were doing one of many ultrasounds, they were a bit mystified as to why I had fluid in one half of my uterus, and nothing in the other. So, we do a couple of tests and find out I was born with yet another birth defect (go me). It's called a septate uterus, and basically it means that I was born with an unnecessary wall in my uterus. Consequence? Super high chance of miscarriage, of course! My RE (Reproductive Endocrinologist) told me that based on my septum, my chances of miscarriage were in the 90% range. Anyway, he does the surgery and I'm approved to start trying to have a family again.

Next Tries

As you can imagine, with a blocked tube it took a bit longer to get pregnant. Not only that, but I'd dealt with so much disappointment that, after each failure, Ben and I would reassess to see if we were going to keep trying. After my next miscarriage, I think Ben was surprised that I was willing to try again.

Pregnant Again

Now we are caught up to my current pregnancy. Aaaand plat twist: it's been awful. It's a bit ironic, actually. Ben and I have worked so hard to get pregnant. Many prayers have been said and tears have been shed to get this point. Plus, I thought that after all the work we'd put into it that I'd get this cosmic break from awful morning sickness. But no. I'm actually kind of ashamed to admit that during my worst weeks of sickness, I sank into a kind of a despair because I was so miserable all the time. It was like having mono and the flu all wrapped into one devious mess. Currently, I'm 13 weeks and still sick. Now, not as bad as before, but I'm still throwing up 1-2 times a day and feel sick all day long. (Yes, I'm on medication, yes I eat small amounts throughout the day, no-preggie pops, peppermint, and ginger don't work for me).

But I'm finally to the point that I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, where I can see the bright side of things (I'm talking to you, 13 pounds lost). Not just that, but at my last ultrasound last week, I could see the baby kicking around and moving. So it's getting more real And I'm not as worried that all of this will have been for naught. 

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A Feminist's Perspective on a Patriarchal Church

Did my title hit all the hot buttons? Okay, good!

Now, to clarify, I think I would more ascribe to third wave feminism. Not the bra-burning associated with second wave feminism. Rather, I believe that people shouldn't let socially constructed stereotypes keep them from creating their own unique path. Want to become a doctor? Go for it. Want to be a stay-at-home mom? Awesome. To quote some random article I found, "The heart of the movement is respect for our fellow woman, which includes acknowledging her beliefs, choices, and methods of self-expression and identification (as long as it isn’t harmful to her or others)."

Now, there are many aspects of the LDS church that I could tackle, but the main thing I want to address are the topics of  1) equality and 2) the priesthood (deemed in the church the power and authority to act in God's name) and how I can call myself a feminist and not really give a poop that women don't have it.


EQUALITY STARTING WITH ADAM & EVE

I feel like so many years of men-are-better-than-women mentality can be traced back to the story of Adam & Eve. From one of the first stories in the bible, the major consensus seems to be that we see how dumb and easily swayed Eve is. Hence men-are-better-than-women. From LDS teachings, we see things a tad differently. We believe that God gave them a couple commandments: 1) don't eat of the fruit and 2) multiply and replenish the earth. The two don't seem super contradictory until you look at some LDS scripture: 

And [Adam and Eve] would have had no children; wherefore they would have remained in a state of innocence, having no joy, for they knew no misery; doing no good, for they knew no sin.
But behold, all things have been done in the wisdom of him who knoweth all things.
Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.
And the Messiah cometh in the fulness of time, that he may redeem the children of men from the fall" (2 Nephi 2:22–26; see also 2 Nephi 2:19–21, 27).

So basically, Eve had to make a pretty big decision. Oh and that beguiled by the serpent thing? Take a look on this bit from an article below (if you want to read the whole article, you can go here.)

We read in the biblical text that Satan beguiled Eve. Knowing the negative modern connotations of the word used to explain Satan’s hold over Eve, I wondered how this magnificent woman could have been beguiled.
Sensing this was another word whose true meaning might have been lost after so many centuries of translation, I spoke with Dr. Nehama Aschkenasy. She explained that the Hebrew word that has come to be translated as “beguiled” is a rare verb form of unusual depth and richness. Because it is a form no longer in use, it is almost impossible to translate. “It is safe to say that it indicates an intense multilevel experience which evokes great emotional, psychological, and/or spiritual trauma.”
Aschkenasy wrote of this in her book Eve’s Journey. The use of this word in the biblical narrative “makes it clear that Eve was motivated by a complex set of inner drives, anchored not only in her physical but also in her intellectual nature.” She further indicated her belief that this intense, multilevel experience caused Eve to step back, reevaluate, reassess, and ponder the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.

So instead of being tricked, Eve had a pretty emotionally traumatic experience when trying to figure out what to do.


HELPMEET DOES NOT EQUAL SERVANT

We read that "God is no respecter of persons" (ACTS 10:34).  Meaning, He doesn't show favoritism to one person over another--including men over women. Again, in LDS theology, Adam and Eve are seen as equal partners: companions who, without the other, could not fully grow and evolve. To quote John A. Widstoe,“The place of woman in the Church is to walk beside the man, not in front of him nor behind him. In the Church there is full equality between man and woman. The gospel, which is the only concern of the Church, was devised by the Lord for men and women alike” (see full article here).


BUT WHAT ABOUT THE PRIESTHOOD ISSUE YOU'VE BEEN AVOIDING?

I would use the words "building up to" instead of "avoiding." A foundation, if you will. Anyway, another cornerstone of LDS theology is this: the main and absolutely ultimate goal of God is "to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man." (See context here.) A step in the whole process of God's goal, according to LDS doctrine, is for everyone first to come to earth and try to become like Him. In case you're not following along, a woman sacrificing her body through Motherhood, in the eyes of Mormons, is absolutely imperative for God's plan to work. It's kind of like God saying, "Hey, this is super important and special for me, and I'm putting my trust you to do it right." So while men and women are seen as equal (and I know some people will take issue with this next part), Mormons just see these different roles (priesthood and motherhood) as men and women taking stewardship over 2 different parts of God's plan. And I think the real tragedy is when women devalue their quintessential part.

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"Tell All the Truth but Tell It Slant"

6:00 am: Even after doing 4 1/2 hours of reading yesterday, my homework still wasn't finished. #EnglishMajorProbs. Anyway, I read all that I could until I needed to start getting ready.
8:20 am: Although I told Ben he could take leftovers and I would make a sandwich, let's be real. I wasn't going to make a sandwich. So my lunch was composed of a few slices of ham, one piece of cheese, tortilla chips, 3 red vines, an apple, a banana, and a ding dong.
8:30 am: I can't find my coat. I pray that today is warmer as I grab my computer, "lunch," and books that, together, are about as thick as the length of my foot. PS, just so everyone knows, it was already like 32 degrees outside by 9. PSS, I still have no idea where my coat is.
8:35 am: I call my mom. The conversation was ok until she tells me how my sisters is mad at her because she is apparently not giving her daughter enough attention. Except, that's not it. I'd already talked to my sister, and she's mad for the same reason we all are: she places the importance of my nephew above everyone and anything else. My wedding? Oh, she didn't come because she "had" to babysit him. Christmas? She wouldn't come out because she had "responsibilities." AKA my nephew. So anyway, my sister was peeved because it's a little weird when your mother makes a Facebook status about missing one particular nephew. Just him. NO one else. Are you following me? So anyway, I tell her this and also mention how not only did she not come out to Ben's graduation, but she's already told me she won't come to mine. Except, she tells me that those were because of her weight. Sidenote: she's paranoid that she's too overweight to fly. Anyway, I'm frustrated by this point and tell her of a person we both know who's heavier than her and flies all the time. Her response: she starts sobbing and telling me I can't do this to her and then hangs up.
9:00 am: I arrive at my new internship and try to deal with the emotional chaos and keep myself together.
9:03 am: (Text from Mom): Don't ever call me again. You're bad for me.
9:03 am: (Text from Mom): I don't ever want to see you again.
9:03 am: (Text from Mom): Don't come here
9:04 am: (Text from Mom): I don't need what you do to me.
I was a little confused by her severe response to my statement (not the being disowned thing, because this is the third time in the last year and a half that she's said that to me.)
11:30 am: Social media meeting! With all the outpouring of new information, it's fun and slightly overwhelming. I wonder how I'll be able to complete all my responsibilities when I'm only interning 10 hours a week.
12:50 pm: I call Ben to sort through the mom thing. He points out that my mom tells me she never wants to see me again approximately ever 6 months.
1:15 pm: I get to swallow my pride and pick up my "accessibility" papers. Accessibility=disability. Pretty much with adjusting to new medication and having already 2 surgeries in the last 2 months (the last one being last Friday), I tend to miss class. These papers let my teachers know that my body is legit screwed up and I'm not just ditching for kicks and giggles.
1:20 pm: Remember those snacks I packed for lunch? Time to start devouring them.
1:35 pm: The Senior course in which we get to study the poems of Emily Dickinson. She's the one who wrote, "Tell all the truth but tell it slant." The hard part about her is that her truths are so slant there are no subjects. No but really. Most of her poems are written in such a way that because there is no subject, there are layers of meaning to be understood. Like a bajillion layers. You'll be reading along and you're like oh there's a maiden, and there's marriage, and there's death and God, too? Ok.
3:00 pm: My rhetoric class. The takeaway: medieval religious authorities like Thomas Aquinas (and everyone else, too) believed women to be inferior to men. They were not their "help meet" but their "helper." Thus, if a man wanted help, he should go ask a man, unless it's in the procreation department. Peachy.
4:15 pm: Call my dad trying to understand why my mom reacted so harshly. The only thing that I can think of is that she maybe needs to adjust her medication. After a very hesitant pause, he agrees and tells me he got an emergency call at work from a friend of my mom's to whom she'd given a suicide message to. She hasn't done that in years, which is why my dad feels something is off. But of course, she doesn't trust any of us to believe that we're telling the truth.
4:30 pm: Have to hang up because I'm now at work. Again, I have to readjust my thought processes from what I just heard to getting caught up at work.
6:00 pm: Tired, I leave work for home. As I walk in the kitchen I see a cute note my husband left for me.
6:20 pm: Eat frozen pizza! Guys, I usually eat way better than today. I promise.
8:55 pm: Finish writing blog.

                 

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Fragmented Essay

I don’t remember my first hospital visit. Some of my earliest memories stem from when I was four—back then I frequented the hospital so much that whenever I was admitted, the nurses greeted me like a favorite niece. More than that, I felt like a momentary celebrity as I walked through the double doors to my floor and was cheerfully greeted by everyone. Because I was young, I never thought to wonder why everyone knew me when I couldn’t remember them. It’s just the way it was. But alas, my flash of fame would vanish as I would enter my room. Except, if you take away the IV’s and the throw-up bowls, needles, tubes, and surgeries, it wasn’t so bad. They tried to make it kid friendly. I even had themed sheets—like 101 Dalmatians. My most common problem was boredom. As an inpatient, all you have to look forward to are your 3 meals.

***

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How to Become an English Major

First, you must graduate high school thinking you're amazing at everything. There is nothing that you cannot do. Especially, however, you are great at math and English. When you make the choice between the two, however, choose math. Math is more respected and will make you feel more reputable. After all, you did get an A in Calculus your senior year.

Then you must enter college, and fail miserably in math. This makes no sense--you're in a Calculus class, after all. After barely passing, you decide that your procrastination and laziness got in the way. Thus, you take the same math class again the next semester. Half-way through the class you realize you hate Calculus with a passion and no longer want to major in math. Again, you barely pass Calculus.

You now decide that you want to teach and major in "family and consumer science education." You reason that you like cooking, shopping for clothes, and the idea of sewing. You enroll in 2 major related classes. You drop sewing within the first week. You hate sewing. In your Home and Family class, you are grateful there is no gun to shoot yourself as you learn about the spiritual aspect of the mundane things in life--changing diapers, for instance. You begin jetting for the door on completion of your quizzes until your teacher threatens to not give you credit unless you stay for the whole period (so you may learn about Jesus and diapers).

Take random GE's until you decide to serve a mission.

Come back from an 18 month mission--still clueless--and take an advertising class with your friend because his dad teaches it. It's fun, he tells you--easy, too. This class is not easy. You probably should have bought the text book. But by golly, your project turned out pretty nifty, so now you're going to major in advertising! Plus, you're running out of GE's.

Next, be clueless that you need to be declared a pre-communications major to get into the required pre-requisites for this major. You figure this out months later and have to waitlist all your classes and cross your fingers that you get in.

You get into all but one. At the end of the semester you realize you're screwed because you now will have to wait a year and a half in the hopes that you get into the program. Silently curse your stupidity and figure out what the heck your daddy's "late bloomer" is going to do with herself. Not wanting to waste your time and the government's money, you decide to switch majors--yet again.

Decide to major in English--something. Start taking the classes. Realize that you finally feel at home. Write a "How To" paper for your writing class.

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My First [MARRIED] Christmas

Let's start with Christmas Eve, shall we? Much to my husband's distress, we were waiting around for a package for his sister to arrive (side note--it was supposed to arrive the day before, but apparently UPS had some issues this year. If you want to read all about it, click here.) So, while my husband was struggling to wait, I got to spend time with my best friend and her family. I regret nothing.

Anywho, the infamous package finally arrives, and we jet off to his parents house. And when I say jet, I mean drive, because they now only live about an hour and 15 mins away from us. Speaking of his family, I'm currently eating some of his mom's chocolate chip banana bread. But I digress. Anyway, we get there in time for their traditional ravioli dinner. I, of course, added to the dinner by bringing my mountain dew that I was determined to buy that morning. Because let's be real. Me + Caffeine=best friends. So when I don't drink caffeine, I think he gets a bit jealous and becomes a BIG headache for me.

Oh, and did I mention my husband's sister got their parents a ping pong table?!?!? I love me some ping pong. The hilarious part is that I'm about 100% certain that their mom could whoop my trash.

Later on Christmas Eve we even played chimes! [Imagine wind chimes. Except each chime is a note. And instead of having sheet music that show notes, we have numbers that each match a chime.] With a nail, you tap the chime when your number/note comes up. And voila! Christmas Music!

Our stockings for Christmas were kind of cool because we each put a little something into everyone's. So when I woke up on Christmas morning, I about died laughing...my sister-in-law had gotten me FOUR cases of pop for "my stocking." BEST. STOCKING. STUFFER. EVER.

I need to back up really quickly. On Christmas Eve, my previously-mentioned-friend had given me a Christmas card with the instruction to not open it until Christmas Day. Except she entrusted it to my husband because she didn't believe I would wait to open it. Smh. Anyway, Christmas Day rolls around, I open the card, and finally understand her paranoia! Christmas morning is when she and her husband had decided to tell everyone that she was pregnant!!

Anyway, later yesterday evening we finally drove home around 8:00 pm. Unpacking the car was super cold. And here I am complaining about having to unpacking presents...shame on me. But once we put everything away, we played a few hands of Canasta! If you don't know what Canasta is...here's the lowdown. Really cool card game. I'd rank it #2 on my list, right under Euchre. Oh crap. I just found out you can play it online. MAN!

Anyway, there you have it folks. My first Christmas as a married person.

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My first day of class....errr....second day of class

It started off pretty typical. You know, the alarm is set to give you a respectable amount of time to get ready in the morning. But come morning time, your brain makes a valid point: you don't NEED that much time. You're a super fast morning-get-ready-er. So you hit that snooze button. Then, in effect, you're running around the house like a crazy woman because--as impossible as it would seem--you didn't give yourself enough time to get ready. Oops.

After packing my lunch and scarfing my cocoa puffs, I head out the door.

World, meet the girl who didn't shower this morning; armed with a coat of mascara and a smearing of eyeliner. But no worries, I did brush my teeth.

Enter first class. There are two really, really excited professors. No, no. That was not a typo--I have two professors, because I decided it would be a FANTASTIC idea to take a six-credit class. Because who doesn't love cramming their brain full of "Transatlantic Literary History" for two hours straight three times a week? Consistent with English major culture, we're also supposed to be excited about the fact that one of our instructors resembles Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Next comes my Marriage and Family class. Here at BYU, they require a certain amount of religion courses for you to graduate. What better time to take a religion course on marriage than, drum roll please, right after you just got married?!? The class is great and surprisingly easy. Why am I surprised it's easy? Well, BYU professors teaching religion have this weird thing where they love to take 2-credit hour classes and make them a pain in your derriere. These classes are supposed to make you happy; instead, they typically run out the butterflies and rainbows and replace them with busy work and memorization. But this guy--he was good. I like him.

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The Story of Ben & Sheila (As Told By Sheila)

You know how everyone gets in their nice, comfortable routines? Well, by the end of the fall semester of last year, I was very comfortable in my particular routine. I shall call it "Not-Really-Talking-To-Anyone-At-Church-Besides-My-Roommates-Because-I-Didn't-Give-A-Poop." It was great. No harm, no foul. Besides, the first and only time I decided it would be a good idea to date a guy I went to church with (earlier that semester) it didn't turn out so hot.

This is where Ben comes in: Occasionally, I had seen (and briefly talked to this boy who I thought "looked" British even though he didn't have an accent) who I thought was cute. I had no idea who he was. None. He was some random dude who would occasionally talk to my roommates. So I would kind of forget he existed. Sometimes I would try to talk to him. Our conversations would kind of go like this:
Me: Hey, you're cool, we should be friends.
Ben: (__________) <---blanks=blurriness that escaped my mind, but, I know it wasn't exactly positive feedback. Anyway, like I said, I'd always forget who he was unless I was at church. Apparently one time we even had a full out conversation at my apt when I came home one night. I don't remember this at all, but given that I apparently have a bad habit of blurting out life details to practical strangers, there's no refuting it.

So there you have the beginning of our story. Yup, that's right. This is the oh so romantic story of how things just didn't happen.....for months on end.

Then came that Sunday. When everything changed....BUM BUM BUM.
But really--after church my roommates were on either side of him, chatting. Well, chatting and stroking his beard (they both have a thing for facial hair). As I walked up, they were both commenting on how he should come over. Joining the conversation, I agreed with my roommates, and everything was set (I found out later that he agreed to come over because he wanted to meet me. Or so he says). In the mean time, my roommate Stephanie and I went to deliver a certain cheesecake. I may or may not have lost a bet. But that's another story for another time.
We get home and find out he'd stopped by while we were gone. Feeling bad, we run over to his apt. Because he was in the middle of making dinner, he said he'd come over once it was made.

AN HOUR LATER....

People, if you know anything about me, it's that I'm not known for my patience. So I decide to call him. Except I don't have his number, so I have steal it from Stephanie's phone like a creeper. But it worked! He came over.

After getting to know him for the first time (that I remember) I was super impressed by him. And I told him. Except he just thought I was flirting with him -_-

The next day I get a text from him (probably the only time my impatience has ever paid off--it made it so Ben never had to ask for my number). And let me just say something. As impressed as I was, I didn't actually think he was interested. It may or may not have to do with the fact that I'd been dropping (occasional) subtle hints the last couple of months for us to hang out that he never jumped on. Yahhh...

So that night was an FHE activity where we got to decorate cookies and make Valentines. I like making Valentines, so I started making one. As much as I was telling myself I was making one for funzies, in the back of my head I knew it would be for Ben....which made it slightly awkward that the only thing I could fit on the heart I made were the bubble letters that spelled out "Be Mine." So I then begin the walk of shame to deliver it. And then I went with him to go grocery shopping. lol.
Anyway, the next day, he calls me to ask me out. This is how my brain works: "Yah, I'm free anytime.....except for Friday, Saturday, and....Sunday. I'll be in California this weekend." Because Ben had his internship Wednesday night, that left Thursday. Except Thursday was Valentine's Day.
Ben was afraid that would be awkward. I was excited to finally not be a loser on Valentine's Day.

We ended up going to dinner at this Thai restaurant. At the end of dinner, Ben admitted to stalking me on Google+ and asked if my birthday was really June 15. Ladies and gentlemen, the moment we found out we had the same birthday.

From there, everything just kind of happened.

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Person of Interest

Last summer I watched a TV show called "Person of Interest."

The opening of each episode starts out with this voice-over:
 "You are being watched. The government has a secret system: a machine that spies on you every hour of every day. I know because I built it. I designed the machine to detect acts of terror, but it sees everything. Violent crimes involving ordinary people, people like you. Crimes the government considered irrelevant.......You'll never find us, but victim or perpetrator, if your number's up... we'll find you".

I loved this show. Super cool, these guys fighting off the bad guys.

Why am I bringing this up? It probably has to do with the whole someone leaked confidential information
about how our government has been accessing our phone records and internet use without our knowledge. A little bit of an invasion of privacy. It's a little bit like that TV show, right?!? So why did I have absolutely no problem with the TV show? Because they weren't corrupt. They were using this knowledge for good. Because it wasn't real. However, we all know that absolute power leads to absolute corruption. I'm afraid that the more power we give to the government, the more they'll think it's okay to control things that are currently our choices.

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The Story of How I Got Engaged

Once Upon A Time...
Okay, I'm going to skip part about how our first date was on Valentine's Day...and how he was perfect for me...and all those others things. Skipping.

As a foreword, I suck at surprises. I absolutely love them, but if I get wind of them, imma try my absolute hardest to figure out. I'm relentless. (You can talk to me about my patience issues later.)

Monday. Mistake #1: Ben was telling me that he had yet to do his homework like he said he was going to do. He let it slip out, "If it makes you feel any better, I was doing something important!" This meant one of two things. He either A) paid for the ring or B) picked up the ring. Mistake #2: He informed me that he went ring shopping without me after we went. I obviously assumed that this meant he was picking up the ring. (I was wrong.) Mistake #3: I couldn't find my phone, so I used Ben's phone to call it. And look at that, he'd talked to my dad that day (AKA he had already asked permission).

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VACTERL Association

I hate talking about my birth defects. I like to pretend it doesn't affect me. I like to pretend there's nothing wrong with me. But let's be real, there's a ton wrong with me. My biggest fear is everyone figuring out that I have all these things wrong with me and judging me. So what am I going to do? Post it on the internet for everyone and their mother to see. Obviously.

VACTERL association. Basically, here's an introduction: Once upon a time, there were a bunch of non-random birth defects that were caused by something doctors don't know. Each letter in "VACTERL" association stands for a different thing wrong with you. If you have 3+ then congratulations, you have it.

V-Vertebral Anomalies
A-Anal Atresia
C-Cardiac
T-Trachea
E-Esophogus
R-Renal
L-Limb Anomalies

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Why Disney Princesses Got Jipped

I get it, the Disney Princesses are meant to be the protagonists of the stories, but does that really mean the guys they married have to be...well...losers? Thank you, Disney, for lowering girls' expectations since 1923.

A friend of mine recently asked me which Disney Prince I'd prefer. Out of all of them, I picked Aladdin. Here's a run down of all the princes to help you all understand how I came to this conclusion.

Beast. 
Let's take into account why he's a beast in the first place. Oh yah, he's selfish and prideful; prob one of those guys who would go around shirtless when it's 60 degrees outside because they like the attention. Then of course he treats his princess exceptionally well by holding her captive. How did Belle fall in love with him again? To quote Perks of Being a Wallflower, I'd say it's because, "We accept the love we think we deserve." So probably because Belle was a social outcast, she fell in love with a guy who treated her like crap. Perfect guys, perfect.

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VALENTINE'S

I Love Valentine's Day.

No, I'm not crazy.

Actually, I've never even dated anyone during Valentine's Day.

To be exact, last year I actually broke up with my boyfriend at the time the night before Valentine's Day.

SO WHY DO I LIKE IT SO MUCH???

I love cuteness. I love happiness. I love expressions of admiration and love. Growing up, my favorite part of Valentine's was seeing what my dad would get me. Usually he would bring home roses or chocolate. I also loved helping my twin brother get together things for whomever he was dating. I liked the creativity involved. The feeling I get when I see people doing really cute things for other people is about what you feel when you see the pictures below:

Overwhelming joy.

That.

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ADDICTION

Sometimes, I just need a change.

Most people do it the normal way.

Myself--I take it out on my hair.

I decided I no longer wanted bright red hair.

So first, it looked like this.

That's right. Orange. Why it won't go the right side up, heaven only knows.

But it currently looks like this:

So there you have it, my friends. AAAaaaaand in case you want a side by side comparison:

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I'm Not Psychic

I'm not.


I'm not sure what you would call it. Gut instinct? God telling me things through thoughts? A combination of the two? Who really knows. But I can't really explain how I know things sometimes.

One time, as I was walking, I began to talk to this boy. Finally I realized that I should probably ask his name. Moments before, images and emotions of a boy named David that I had dated my freshman year of college flooded into my heart and mind. Instinctively I knew that this must be the name of this boy. And so it was.

When I was a missionary, I could only receive letters. Often I would think about certain people--randomly--that I hadn't heard from in a while. The difference, however, was that I knew that because I was thinking about them, I would soon get a letter from them.

This past week, I kept getting thoughts that I had been free sailing for too long. Everything had been too good for too long. I've had this feeling before--it meant something bad was going to happen. My world would be shaken up. Ironically, I was even having these thoughts this morning.

So it shouldn't have been a shock to me to find out tonight that this boy I irrationally still had feelings for, whom was quite in love with another girl, was moving back to Utah to be with her. But not just back to Utah. Back to my apartment complex. But not just my apartment complex. Back in my ward. But not just back in my ward. He was moving into the apt of the guy I just had been dating...an apt which is in MY "family home evening" group. Which, wouldn't be so bad if I weren't FHE mom.

Haven't I shed enough tears over this guy? I had just gotten comfortable with everything. Not having to worry about seeing him at church, or when I went to church functions (minus when I got the shock of the year so far when I randomly saw him two Sundays ago. Not cool).

In other news, my leg is still healing from being run over by a car. The doctor said it would take 8-9 weeks to heal. Well, friend, it's been 8 and it's still bruised, still hurts, and still has some nice purple stripes and pink markings. Whatever.

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Sheila Got Ran Over by a Reindeer...and When I Say Reindeer, I Mean a Car

I don't like to repeat myself. Wow, that sounded rude. But I'm being truthful. So, to eradicate me repeating this story over and over, and to keep from trying to figure out how to make it shorter and shorter each time I tell people, I will give the full blown-out detailed version. That, and this is obviously a very successful way to procrastinate studying for my final tomorrow.

Once Upon A Time...

There was a beautiful, smart, and feisty, young girl walking to class. The caffeine addict she was, she had previously purchased a Dr Pepper to keep her energized throughout the day. (Important for later...well, not really). Anyway, maintaining her position as the favorite child, she was on the phone with her mother. She stopped at the crosswalk, and waited for the pedestrian sign to flash. Once it transitioned, she started walking. Much to her surprise, to her left a blue car started pushing into her. She kept thinking it would stop (I mean heavens, that's what most cars do when they see that they're running into a person), but it didn't. Instead, she was knocked to the ground. Instants later, the wheel of the car is stopped right on top of her leg. Right above the knee to be exact. Besides some other choice words that were said, the girl yells to the driver of the car, "Back up, back up, back up!" He hears her, and slowly backs up. The girl doesn't pay attention to what the guy does next, because the student population of BYU come rushing to her. It's a little overwhelming when you've just been run over by a car. A girl approaches and asks if she should call 911. Trying to assess the situation, the girl pauses, and finally decides it would probably be a good idea. Her brain was running a little bit slowly at that moment in time. Another guy approaches and asks if there's anyone he can call. Remembering that she was on the phone with her mother she answers, "Actually, I'm kind of on the phone with my mom right now if you could talk to her." He sees the the phone she pointed to, picks it up, and says, "Hi, you don't know me, but my name is ______ (I'm not trying to keep his name anonymous, but with my track record, being run over by a car didn't exactly help my inability to remember names) and your daughter kind of just got ran over by a car. Again, she stops paying attention to what's going on until she hears him ask her, "Do you want to talk to her?" He hands her the phone and all she hears is her mother crying hysterically. So of course, girl who just got ran over by a car is trying to calm her mother. The EMT arrives, and the girl promises to call her mom once she's at the hospital.

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POLiTiCS--a rant brought to you by PMS

I usually try to maintain political neutrality. Let's be honest, when it comes to opinions, most of us only like to hear those which re-affirm our own beliefs. I'm not sure about other people, but I have a habit of always thinking I'm right, so it rubs me the wrong way when I hear a declaratory opinion that differs from my own beliefs.

So WHY IN THE FREAKING WORLD do people take it on their own behalf to post strong opinions on their Facebooks? 

For example, let's say I'm a Democrat a week prior to the election, and I'm going off about why Romney shouldn't be elected President. Okay, cool, good for me. Then, as I'm scrolling through my news feed, I see all these "ignorant" citizens of the United states slamming on Obama. I'm sure that would get my blood boiling.

Can you see what's happening here? People are being intolerant of other beliefs, and we're having an Alpha Male Politics competition. We don't care what other people have to say; WE care that our opinion is heard more than anyone else's.

A little interesting fact, people. Most people already have their own opinions, so they're not going to be persuaded by yours, NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES YOU REPEAT IT. Those who are most likely to be swayed are those who are the least interested (AKA the ones who unsubscribed from your posts because you were getting on their nerves from all of your political rambling). 

So how do you get your opinion heard?

1) Look for areas of agreement. For example, let's look at something controversial like Gay marriage. Some people are for it, some people are not.

Conservative people believe that marriage is ordained of God, and should be reserved for a man and a woman. Other, more liberal people, believe in the equal rights amendment even further (Equality of rights under the law shall not be abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex) and believe that marriage should be given to all. 

Before I go on, I just want to point out the whole "separation of church and state" deal. How the HECK did the government initially become involved in marriage? Lame. However, they are involved, and they give out certain benefits such as:

• Hospital Visitation Rights – Married couples have the automatic right to visit each other in the hospital and make medical decisions. 
• Health insurance – Married couples have the right to visit one another in the hospital and make medical decisions for one another. 
• Spousal Privilege – Married couples have the right to refuse to testify against one another. Everything you say, write, email, fax, etc. to your spouse can't be used against you.
• Inheritance rights – Married couples have automatic rights to inheritance in the absence of a will.
• Family leave – Married couples have a legally protected right to unpaid leave to care for an ill spouse.
• Pensions – Most pension plans pay surviving benefits to the surviving spouse. 
• Nursing homes – Married couples have a legal right to live together in a nursing home and spend their final years together.
• Home protection – Laws protect married couples from being forced to sell their homes to cover high nursing home bills.
• Retirement savings – Married people can roll over a deceased spouse's 401(k) into an IRA without paying taxes.
• Taxes – Marries spouses may inherit unlimited property from a deceased spouse, tax free.
• Social Security benefits – If you’re married, you get Social Security from a dead spouse. 

Republicans and Democrats may not agree on whether gay marriage should be permitted, but I personally feel like they should at least agree to the concept of equal rights. An agreement/compromise might be something like this: revoke the government's ability to call something a marriage or not. Leave that up to the religious factions. If the government wants to give out certain benefits to people, let them give those to all civil unions. Marriage can still be "ordained of God" and those who choose partners can still get "equal rights".

2) Avoid personal attacks. In contrast to public opinion, people don't like being called "Cotton-headed-ninny-muggins" and other such terms. Do not name call, distort what a person is trying to say, or be nasty. BE CALM.

3) Focus on the facts. This one may be a bit tricky, because everything is biased. I'm pretty sure my boss at work told me about a book he read which instructed the user how to distort statistics to show what you want them to show. A silly example could be this: 90% of the people polled prefer chocolate over other sweets. Cool, but they could have left out that all the people sampled were women. Are you catching my drift? It's very easy to misrepresent information to your benefit. So you can't believe everything you read, and then pass it on.

4) Look for signs of disagreement. If you see something getting heated, back off. It's not logical to think "if I say something more nasty than them, I'm going to win, and then they'll have to admit defeat and that I was right". In WHAT universe? Probably your own--party of one. No matter what, people aren't going to agree on everything. Agree to disagree. It's hard to find 100% truth in everything. Who's to say who's completely right and who's completely wrong?

And, with that, I'm going to class.

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Falling into Fall

First off, can I share how much I enjoy rain?

(I took this picture leaving campus today)

Rain--such an evasive jewel in a desert like Utah. Yet it rained today. In autumn! Usually the cruel forces at work restrain any type of precipitation here to the winter months. So imagine my delight when I realized I was given the privilege of having such a day in which the autumn was similar to that of Indiana! And oh, the rain—it has such a soothing effect. Growing up, I would lay in bed as I listened to the rainstorms beat against my old house. I loved it. It calmed me. And the smell! It’s my personal belief that they should make candles that smell like rain. No one would buy them but me, but I don’t care. It’s weather like this that makes me want to warm up some hot chocolate (check), snuggle up in a blanket (why is the closet so far awaaaaaaaay???), and find a cute boy to hold my hand and tell me how beautiful I am (okay so maybe this one is a constant through all kinds of weather).

:)

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Honesty

"Honesty is the best policy"

"Do unto others as you would have them do unto you"

Those seem to be words to live by.

THEN WHY DON'T WE???

To understand this, let's look at various types of lies:

1) White Lie: An often trivial, diplomatic, or well-intentioned untruth. 

Stereotypical instances include moments such as when a wife asks her husband, "Honey, does this dress make me look fat?" or when that sketchy guys asks a girl out and she replies, "Sorry, I would love to, but I'm busy." We lie because we don't want to hurt others. We feel like if we sugar-coat things, we can protect them for the hard truth. But is that really the way to go? Our dishonesty can easily make situations go sour.

Example A: The husband tells his wife that she looks just fine. They go to her company dinner as she wears her way too tight dress; revealing things she would rather hide. Behind her back, the women from her work are gossiping about her clothing choice.

Example B: Having nothing to do on a Friday night, the girl decides she's going to get some ice cream at the grocery store to eat as she watches her favorite chick flick. At the store, she runs into that guy she turned down.

I'm not saying that losing tact is the answer--by all means--USE tact. However, also be honest. A "sorry I'm not interested" or "I like your green dress better" could have sufficed in these situations.

Patterns of white lies made over time can create distance between you and others, and destroy your credibility.

2) Black lie: the opposite of a white lie.

These are the most hurtful. They're lies created out of various forms of pride: selfishness, greed, haughtiness, etc. Sometimes we lie to protect or even enhance our image. As Cooley once said, "I am who I think you think I am". [Thank you Professor Child] I'm sorry, but the truth is that if you made a choice to do/be something, own up to it. If you're afraid of repercussions that will ensue from your poor choices, then don't make those decisions. Your current choices define who will become. Not that you can't change--but if it's really in your character to make a decision you're not proud of, then you shouldn't be so defensive about people finding out.

Granted, no one's perfect--which is a reason why we shouldn't judge others. We don't know where they're coming from. However, fear of judgement isn't a legitimate reason to lie.

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"If Happy Ever After Did Exist...."

Have you ever felt like life sucked? I mean, legitimately, down to the bone, sucked? I'm not talking about just your average bad day, or even week. I'm talking about the moments when all Hell breaks loose, and every important aspect of your life gets flushed down the toilet?

Welcome to my life at the moment.

My Grandma used to say, "You can never have two bad days in a row". 

Lies, Grandma, Lies.

To demonstrate, let's make a check-list of all the things that aren't exactly going to plan:

Major= check.

Family= check.

Health= check.

Interpersonal relationships= check and check.

But you see, the point of this post isn't actually to whine about how sucky my life is. I can see where you would see otherwise. However, the point is as follows:

Hebrews 12:6-- "For whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth.”

Ordinarily, when I feel like my life is crumbling into tiny pieces, I realize that it's really hard to keep an eternal perspective. However, I have to realize that I need to be grateful for my super crappy life right now.

Elder Christofferson said the following, "[We need to] willingly accept and even seek correction."

Now, I’m very aware that when I’m going through a hard time, the first place I look to for a source of refuge and peace is God. I cling to him like no needy girl does when dating a boy. Thus, in my times of need, I am constantly re-evaluating what more I can do. Can I make my personal study of the gospel more enriching? Can my prayers be more meaningful? Can I find more opportunities to serve others? These things.

I love what he says later on, "Though it is often difficult to endure, truly we ought to rejoice that God considers us worth the time and trouble to correct.  . . . The fruit of God's chastisement is repentance leading to righteousness."

“Though it is often difficult to endure…” Those few words strike such deep chords. Yes, it’s excruciatingly hard to endure. I often find myself asking for relief. Although I sometimes wish I could be left alone and be completely worry free, I know that’s not the point. We should be happy that God loves us so much that he lets us go through difficult times so that we can experience personal growth. (Easier said than done, I know).

For instance, last night as I was crying to the Lord, I was informing him that I could no longer handle what He had given me to carry. I was begging him to take away what I did not want/believe I could bear.

This morning, however, I read the words from Doctrine and Covenants Section 136, verse 31. It reads as follows:

“My people must be tried in all things, that they may be prepared to receive the glory that I have for them, even the glory of Zion; and he that will not bear chastisement is not worthy of my kingdom.”

Ouch, right? As Elder Paul V. Johnson said, “…we must be careful not to resent the things that help us put on divine nature.”

I don’t know about you, but that’s pretty difficult for me to swallow. If I didn’t have these things called “emotions”, that would be just fine and dandy. However, having to accept that your trials won’t necessarily be taken away from you for the shear fact that you need to go through them in order to become more like God—now that’s hard. Especially in those deepest moments of pain.

In my New Testament class on Wednesday, my teacher said something that really was impressed upon my mind. She said, “Quit trying to control outcomes.” She emphasized that if we were faithful to the end that we would be blessed. Her point was more that these blessings may not be immediate, but that they would be there, nonetheless.

Take Job. Job had a pretty sucky life. It almost seemed like the more he did right, the worse things went. However, he was blessed in the end.

My teacher also brought up the prophet Moroni from the Book of Mormon. His people basically got killed off, and he spent the remaining years of his life all by himself, trying not to get killed by the Lamanites. So here he was, lonely but yet faithful. What reason did he have to be faithful except for his love for God? Now, if you look at the top of each temple, you’ll see a statue of Moroni pointing the way to Christ. How could Moroni have known that his faithfulness to the end would cause him to be an emblem of faith in these latter days? He didn’t.

It reminds me of that popular song “I happy ever after did exist, I would still be holding you like this…” But not necessarily. Just because things aren't going to OUR plan, it doesn't mean that there won't be a "Happily Ever After" for us. God knows what’s best for us. However, sometimes the blessing won’t come until the REAL Happily Ever After. Until then, we get chastened so that we can qualify to be in God’s Kingdom.

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