I have planned our entire wedding in less than one year and under $10k dollars (which is nearly unthinkable today).
And did I mention… vacation?
Thursday morning at about 4am we will head to Pigeon Forge, TN where we will be married in the Smoky Mountains on Saturday. Send good thoughts, as the long travel (10-12 hour drive) we are asking of our families is what brings me the most worry.
I’ll be sure to update with plenty of pictures after the big day, but here is some of what we have been up to lately!! (Other than full time jobs, college, and wedding planning!
You told me several times that I was a good writer
It empowered me and made me appreciate the craft
Now here I am – writing with a broken heart about something I never saw coming. Something I cannot explain. Something I’ll never understand.
I’m losing my poem format, but my thoughts are jumbled and you taught me that sometimes I need to step outside of my comfort zone
You were my manager
For nearly fours years
I know we don’t always appreciate coworkers
But I can honestly say you had a light in you
That I’ve never seen
Bubbles and sunshine in the form of a human
Many of the thoughts and interpersonal conclusions I came to about myself and then wrote about on this very blog were because you pushed me to ask the deeper questions about why I act the way I do, how I appear to others, and perhaps most importantly how important it is to ask why.
Why did you react the way you did?
What were you feeling? Why did that upset you? What was correct in your reaction, and what do you need to work on next time you encounter the same feelings?
Yes, it often had to do with work
But you shaped it to apply to my life
And I’ll never forget it
My heart hurts
Every time I’m in the office
Or on a zoom call
I think of you and miss you
It was a simple relationship, but a very impactful one. The thing about loss is, you don’t realize that impact until it’s gone. Our team is slowly moving forward, but many of our hearts are shattered.
I met you in the fall of 2016. You know the story, so I’ll spare the details.
But I most remember the way I scoffed to myself that you were not the kind of guy I needed to get involved with. I mean, I was just out of a long-term relationship, in the middle of my military training and living nearly 900 miles across the country from home. Not to mention, you had hair to the middle of your back, played in a band, and shared debatable political posts on Facebook that made me think to myself, ‘This guy is different. He’s not typical and his mind seems intriguing.’
But some part of me must have thought I was better than the hot drummer from a county over because I always swore to myself I wasn’t interested. I gave you the silent treatment many times and showed my sass early on.
Thank goodness you didn’t give up.
You were relentless and determined to get a response.
I finished my military training and came home- where you lived just a town over. At this point, we’d never met face to face, so you were really the first person I saw when I got back to Illinois.
And we’ve been side by side ever since. It’s like the world put us together; our gravities collided. I don’t know if I believe in fate, but I do believe in giving in to natural attraction, even if it’s scary and unexpected. Taking those journeys is what life is all about, even if you make a mistake or fall along the way. I think life will pleasantly surprise you in many ways; just by taking that leap of faith.
The spark between us is still very much alive today. You still make me laugh more than anyone and watching you become a father has been one of the greatest treasures of my life. I’m always cheering you on – whether it be your career or something as simple as watching you show our daughter the most sincere and affectionate love she could ever be given. I trust you and I love you forever. There is no one else on this planet that I’d rather share the adventure of parenthood with than you.
Thank you for showing me compassion throughout my journey into motherhood. I have no doubt the second time around will be just as amazing as the last.
Five more days til we complete the family we started five years ago. 🤍
66 days until I anticipate we will be bringing another human into this world.
Just 66 short days.
And I haven’t even started the nursery or bought much of anything.
I feel so alone in this pregnancy. Like I have to pretend to be something I’m not. Of course this is an “exciting time” and no doubt I’ll love the lil guy… But I have been so damn miserable it’s hard to even force a smile. I’m supposed to sit up straight and put on my big girl pants and fake smile and act like I’m a proud, glowing woman flourishing in pregnancy.
But I’m not.
I am in the third and final trimester of this pregnancy and I am still throwing up almost every single morning. Last week I was puking so hard that I popped a blood vessel in my eye. I could feel the veins in my face bulge as I hugged the toilet.
I fell in the rain a few months ago and definitely did something to my hip/back. I’m sure I just need to go to the chiropractor, but I’ve always been nervous about chiropractors (especially while eight months pregnant). Doc prescribed some muscle relaxers that don’t do much but make me sleepy, so sometimes I’m limping through the house barely able to move. Putting on clothes is a pain that I don’t even want to talk about. The amount of pain that I’m constantly in is taking every bit of happiness I have anymore. It just sucks it all out.
I’m looking at my ankles now and I can’t even tell where the ankle ends and foot beings. Swelling is taking over all of me.
It’s hard for me to pretend that I’m so pleased to be doing this amazing thing (don’t get me wrong, pregnancy is beautiful and life is an fascinating cycle), but I am so sick and so tired and in so much pain that I don’t have any fight left in me. I don’t have the energy to put on a fake smile. If you ask me how I’m doing, don’t get disappointed when I don’t glow and tell you all of these amaaaazing things – because it’s just not going to happen. I’m going to look at you point blank and tell you that I am not doing well and I feel like sh*t.
I am alone in feeling this way. I am trapped in this body of pain and un-comfortability. I am alone in my head trying to talk myself into pulling my leg into my pants saying, ‘it doesn’t hurt that bad.‘ But it does.
Everyone out there sees a pregnant woman and assumes the best and absolute happiness. But on the inside, I feel like a failure because I can’t resonate with that mom. I’m not the mom that loves pregnancy. It feels sad admitting that to people. I feel like the odd (wo)man out.
I love my children, but pregnancy is for the birds.
When we were kids, my uncle would take all of us out to the garage to watch a big storm roll by. We just so happened to live south of what seemed to always be the path of the storms. So we would get our lawn chairs and flip cell phones out and have a fun night.
Times were so much more simple back then. We would laugh from the adrenaline running through our bodies – being so close to a storm yet so far away, you never know what could happen. We would gather around the weather radio and listen to where the rotation of a tornado was spotted. The garage was facing the right direction to see the storm go by and not have rain blowing in on you. There were no true worries back then. Those were the nights we were the closest. Those were the nights we came together. I wish I could get those childhood memories back. Now we’ve all grown up, split apart, and started our own families.
Tonight my own little fam sat in the garage and listened to the radio forecasts and watched the storm roll in. It was nothing too serious, but it did make me feel happy to share memories like this with the family I made. It connected me to my roots, and I’m thankful.
“I wish somebody would tell you you’re in the good ol’ days before you’ve actually left them.”