Hoping for Someday.

I awoke to David's hand on my side, saying my name between short breaths. 

Immediately, I bolted up. 

I felt like I had been hit with a bat. My foggy brain was going a million miles an hour trying to process. In those few seconds, I somehow had a mental conversation with myself...which went something like this:

"Amanda....it's his heart. You know it's his heart. Be brave. Focus. Don't panic. You need to focus."

I asked David if I needed to call 911. He said yes. Again, I had to remind myself not to panic. The fact that David realized he needed an ambulance likely meant they needed to actually be called 10 minutes prior.

**Here is where you may need a little back story... Remember my last post? Well, David had been continuing to decline pretty rapidly with his heart health. Just doing day-to-day tasks were extremely exhausting for him. During his work week, it would take almost everything out of him. Thankfully, he has incredible co-workers who helped him a ton..

In just a month and a half, he had lost about 11 pounds..We had been hopeful for this surgery, because we knew it would help him. However, a few days before surgery, he had to be off some of his medicines. Medicine that helps his heart stay in a good rhythm...***

(He's cousins sure didn't mind helping babysit)

I grabbed my phone. 12:31 am.  With shaky fingers, I dialed 911.

His heart was going wayyy too fast. He was in a bad atrial arrhythmia. I kept one hand on his arm, and reached to feel his forehead. It was cold and clammy. I don't have the heart to write what it made my mind flashback to....

Cousin time with sweet little Corban

We were staying at a hotel in downtown Salt Lake with my sister. So thankfully, the paramedics got there within minutes.

By the time they got there, his heart was slowing down. They loaded him up on the stretcher,..and told me to follow behind the ambulance. They followed that up with.."If we turn on the sirens, don't panic, and don't try to keep up, It just means we need to get him there quicker."

Right. Don't panic. I repeated that to myself dozens of times that night. I replaced it with, "Breathe deep, don't think."

Shortly after they loaded him in the ambulance, his oxygen dropped. His heart started racing again... and he kept going in and out of ventricular tachycardia. (Meaning the bottom chambers of his heart weren't efficiently pumping blood to the body. Ventricular tachycardia is bad. It is even worse then atrial arrhythmia's..your body needs blood to survive) They flipped on the sirens, and away they went.

I grabbed my things, and whispered a good-bye to our sweet boy. As a tender mercy, he slept through the whole thing. My angel of a sister was there to watch him.

Once we were in the ER, David was stable. Everyone kept going back and forth of what part of the hospital he should go to. David's heart tends to make everyone nervous.... We ended up spending the rest of the night there in the ER before being transferred up to the floor before surgery.

Primary Children's has so many triggers for me.

The last time we had been in that emergency department...was when we had made the decision to bring Adalyn home. We had gone through there to load her up on the ambulance. I remember turning back to look at the elevators...seeing my sister standing there with tear filled eyes. Knowing it would be the last time she would see our sweet girl.

As I was reflecting on that memory...and watching David doze... a little girl was brought into the room next to us. The curtains were drawn...but I could still hear. She was brought in blue. Hearing the sound of the suction machine...and hearing the nurse say over and over...."We need you to breathe sweet girl. Give us a cry."

Phew...that one sure sent me for a whirl. Those words were far too real. I put my head in my arms....reminded myself once more to breathe. Not throw up. And not to cry. Crying would just give me a headache.

5 hours later, we were meeting with the 2 surgeons that were going to be doing his surgery... Shortly after, he was wheeled down to the operating room. I was able to follow him right until the doors of that room. I don't know how to describe that feeling of putting the one you love into someone else's hands... It never ever gets easier. 

The nurses and anesthesiologist joked with us...then after a quick hug and kiss.. (From David, not the nurses..)..And of course a handful of "I'll be okay's" The wait began.

As another tender mercy that day, I didn't panic. Worried...yes, immensely...but I didn't let myself  panic. I took the pager they gave me and went back to the hotel.. By then it was mid-morning...and I just wanted to snuggle Camon and tell him all about his brave Daddy.

They called to give us updates every couple hours. With the distraction of Camon, my sister, my nieces, my sweet in-laws and a couple of wonderful friends who stopped by...I was comforted.

Surgery lasted 7 1/2 hours for David...which meant he was incredibly nauseous and throwing up the remainder of the evening. But it had gone even better then they had predicted!

My wonderful in-laws were there. I'm convinced they have to have some of the strongest hearts for watching David go through so many surgeries over the years... As another tender mercy, David's brother spent the night with him in the hospital so I could spend the night with Camon.

Both of the surgeons and one of David's doctors came to talk with us at different times. They successfully were able to burn the area that has been causing David to go into the scary fast atrial arrhythmias and they were able to fix a hole in his top chambers.

They were shocked at how big the hole ended up being. It was 1.4 cm (I know that may seem small...but in your heart, that's a big deal). He was only getting 50% of the blood that his body needed. Which explained his rapid decline!

Since repairing that hole, David has felt so much better. He has had much more energy the before and had his appetite back.

During his surgery, one of his surgeons checked his valves. They found that he needs his pulmonary valve replaced, because it is causing too much blood to back flow. They will be replacing it in about  1 1/2 weeks from now. After repairing that valve, the hope is that he will feel even better and his heart will be at a good place.

Driving home that week, after David was discharged, so many thoughts flooded my mind. 

Sometimes, aspects of our lives seem like a such a cruel twist. Oddly enough, growing up...one of my greatest desires was to work at Primary Children's. In fact, I even spent a summer volunteering there. The families and sweet children inspired me so immensely. Little could I have processed how heavy their burdens likely were.

The past two years have been so very hard. In some ways, I feel like I've been in a constant state of holding my breath and biting my nails. Two years ago at this time, we were fervently praying for the life of our sweet girl. We knew the road we were walking down was going to be hard, but absolutely nothing could have prepared me for how difficult this road has been.

At times, the mountains placed before us have felt far too steep....and my legs too tired to attempt to keep walking. 

David describes the past two years as life ending. The day we buried our sweet babe, a large part of who we were ended. We are new people, in a sense, with different perceptions, hopes and desires. Our focus has changed, our thought process is different. Re-learning the new us is a slow process....

I guess we all have those moments. Moments, good or hard, that reshape you.... that change your very core...

My hopes for the moment? To make it over 5 months without a hospital stay. To go through a whole year without fearing of losing my husband or our little boy. I want David to know what it feels like to have a perfect heart.. I want to go on a sunny walk with my family, eat a picnic lunch....and watch Camon giggle.

I want Adalyn to be there too. I want to watch her run on the grass...and tickle her brother. I want to watch David chase both of them....and laugh to myself at the silliness of it all... and then give in and chase all three of them.

That's a day my heart longs for. In all of it's absolutely perfect simplicity. It's the hope of that day that reminds me to be brave on hard days.

Until then, I think I'll just keep working on taking deep breaths. 

To you, my sweet Adalyn, I know it has already passed, but I hope you had a wonderful Valentine's day, filled with the deepest love! We made you a card, and decorated your grave. I made Camon his first Valentine too...it didn't have a picture on it, but he seemed to sure like looking at it anyway! He is such a cute boy Addie baby. I'm sure you know that though. He is an absolute gift to our hearts. You know, one of the things I am the most thankful for with the past two years? I'm grateful to have loved and been loved in with such beautiful depth. You taught my heart how to love more fully... These days, even amidst all the whirl that surrounds us.....Daddy and I still find time to laugh...especially at Camon. We soak in the light we do have. Even on Camon's restless nights, it's a comfort to know that his cries are mostly because he has lost his binkie...and it has shaken his little world.

We took Camon out this week to help us re-decorate your grave for spring. I don't know if my mind will ever wrap around the whole cemetery concept. Instead I choose to focus on your spirit being with us always. Camon seem to enjoy the sunshine!

How lucky we feel to have been given the chance to hold the beautiful souls of you and your brother. Someday, we will have our perfect sunny day. I'll make sure to bring the ice cream.

I miss you fiercely Adalyn, each and every day. You are ever a light for us, my darling. 

XO,

Mommy

Saving a Life.

Last Friday morning I was feeling pretty good. I've been working hard lately to not let anxiety get the better of me. That morning, Camon had been such a smiley boy!  We were both all ready for the day, and jamming out to some nursery rhymes....when I thought I would check the time on my phone.

I had 3 missed calls from David...and a voicemail that wasn't from him. It was his co-worker. Asking me to call them back ASAP.

Instantly my breath caught in my chest. Something was wrong. Why hadn't I turned the ringer on that morning?!

With shaky hands I hit the call back button.... David answered...sounding shaky and rather out of it..His first words were "I'm okay.." Those words are never comforting for me. I know him too well. "I passed out at work and they are transporting me to the emergency department." I hung up without even asking details. I simply told him I would be there right away.

I hung up telling myself not to panic. Not to cry. Sure, in normal situations, passing out might mean a simple problem. For David though? It points to something being wrong with his heart. It had been years and years since he last blacked out..

My next call was to my in-laws. They are absolutely wonderful, and were already on their way to pick up Camon and I. David had taken our car to work that morning.

On the drive over....I kept repeating in my mind. Don't cry. Don't panic. Breathe. I wanted to despise hospitals...and how they seem to be such a huge part of our lives.  I wanted to hate the way that my fear of losing David rises so quickly to the surface in the days since we lost Adalyn.

Just walking back to the room he was in and hearing everyone's beeping monitors made all my anxiety bubble to the surface...Beeps to me mean seizures. It means not breathing. It means hospital stays and life flight. It means being afraid.

Before long, we were with David... seeing his battle wounds from his fall. Holding his hand as he as he recounted what he could remember and what he had been told.

David was working when he felt his heart begin racing. He stepped out of the room with his patient and sat down. He knew something was going to happen, He attempted to call out to a co-worker...and then completely blacked out.

A short time later, an amazing nurse came around corner and saw him laying face down on the floor. She rolled him over. He was pale/ashen with a bloody face. She felt for a pulse, but couldn't find one. She called for help and began chest compressions. 

When David came to, he was surrounded by his co-workers and the rapid response team. It is the absolute greatest tender mercy that David works at a hospital here. The doctor, nurses and other therapists knew instantly what to do.

In the emergency room, they were able to read his pacemaker and see what happened. His heart began to go about 200 beats per minutes. He went into atrial flutter...which began to speed up his ventricles at an equal rate.

If you don't know much about the heart, here is the basics. When the heart begins to beat that fast, it basically isn't pumping any good, oxygenated blood to the body. It's too fast to even feel a pulse. Which is why he blacked out. 

The thing is, his device is supposed to be able to pace him out of situations like that before it turns scary. This time it didn't. Why? Well...as it would have it.....after his surgery in November..they left that setting of his device off. 

If you're surprised and shocked right now, so were we.

After several hours, of back and forth contact with Primary Children's in trying to reach David's cardiologist, we were able to go home...with promises of following up with his doctor as soon as possible to fix the settings on his device. Having a special condition means no one but your main doctor dares to make any medical changes.

The thing is, once David is back into a normal heart rhythm..hedoes perfectly fine. So after a couple days of rest, he is doing great!

Meeting cousin Corban, just a week older then Camon!

That night, and many since...I have laid awake thinking of the haunting image of David laying on the floor...gray and unresponsive. It makes my stomach churn and my heart ache.e

I think of the nurse who very likely saved David's life by doing chest compressions and helping his heart get back into a normal rhythm.

I don't know if she can ever know how utterly grateful I am for her. How do you begin to thank the people who saved the life of your other half? Your best friend? Your world?

Tears fill my eyes each time I think of it.

Those thoughts have led me to thinking of the past year and a half of our lives. I've thought of all the times that people who have saved my life in a different sense.

There have been countless times when I needed saving...Emotionally...mentally...and spiritually. Times when the darkness felt like it had won, and numbness crept in.

As we laid in  bed that night, I told David I was so amazed at his attitude...that with everything the day brought...he didn't complain. He tried to make the people around him feel better about what was happening.

His response has become my motto for this upcoming year. He said.."I think I'm learning that you can't always control how you feel. You can't always control what happens to you....but you can control how you treat people." 

Pretty profound, right? Little does he know how amazing he is.

There have been so many people the past two years of our life that have carried us. People who reached out in seemingly simple ways...that were life-changing for us. In the middle of the darkness we have waded through, so many people were there to remind us that there is good. There is hope. There is love.

People who helped remind us that God is there...that He is real...And present even amidst fierce storms. 

They were people who saved our lives.

Going into a new year, part of me feels afraid of all of the unknowns that I can't control. But I know one thing is certain, I want to be a life-saver. I want to hold to the good in this life. As hard as it is some days to feel...and to live...I want to take each day for the time it gives me. I want to make those around me feel loved and comforted in the same manner that has been showed to us.

I want to be the same "life-saver" that countless people have been for us. 

I can't always control my fears. I can't control the absolute ache I have for our little girl. I can't change David's heart problems. I can't control the storms that seem to find us..but I can hold to my ship and sail another day. 

I have watched as both Adalyn and David have fought to live this life. It has been the most painful thing I have ever gone through. Yet...this life, being married to David...having Adalyn...and now little Camon...has given me the greatest beauty and the deepest love. It has taught me what faith is...and given me true hope in God's plan for us.

I guess we never truly know when our life will need saving. Some days, it may be in the literal sense. I think even more often though, we all need saving in other ways. It's easy to be frustrated. It's easy to want to soak in the unfairness of it all. 

It is harder to seek God in the middle of it all. It's harder to hold to hope...but those are the very things that will save our lives.

To my sweet Adalyn....goodness what a life we live sweet girl! I feel so humbled and grateful to know that you are ever our guardian angel. Thank you for keeping watch over your Daddy. I can't believe that 2016 is over. It was a pretty hard year Addie baby..so much change. Daddy got a new job. We moved. Daddy had two separate surgeries...and we welcomed your little brother. The hardest thing though was living through a whole year without you. Thinking of living through another whole year without you hurts my heart. I want you to know that I will continue to strive to live this life for you. I want the light people may see in us to be a reflection of your light. I will seek to have our home be a place where heaven can be felt...a place where all who enter feel of you...and feel love. We will strive this year to make beautiful memories with your sweet brother and always look to see you close.

I love you always my darling!

XO

Mommy

P.S...Your Aunt Aimee's family gave us the sweetest hat. We definitely feel like it was meant for your little brother. It is almost exactly the boy version of your little owl hat. We love it so much!

Facing Fears.

David and I were scared to death in thinking of what it would be like the first time Adalyn got sick.

This week we experienced it. 

On Monday night....Adalyn started having tons of seizures. Normally, she does have at least 10 a day.....we have been trying to get them under control. However, that night....she kept going through these cycles...she would have a few seizures and then up to 10 spasms in a row. She would scream, then out of exhaustion...fall asleep....only to be awoke a half hour later to go through the same cycle.

It was awful. I simply just wanted to sob with her.

During the day on Tuesday...things were a little better. But by the evening, it got bad again.

We called the on call neurologist up at Primary's....feeling frantic and at a loss of what to do. How do you stop your child from suffering, when there isn't a simple solution?

The doctor told us she felt like there was an underlying trigger that was causing these cycles. Something like a virus...  Our options were to wait it out until the morning and have her checked the next day or go into the ER.

WHAM!

Here it was. Our fear. Staring us right in the face. She had been extra mucusy and irritable. There was no doubt the neurologist was right....she was sick. We were worried it had gone to her lungs...

We decided to wait it out. Our home health nurse came the next day and recommended we go to her Pediatrician. Our doctor listened to her lungs and checked her. The whole time I felt like biting my nails off. 

A respiratory virus.....he had said. He had Adalyn get a chest X-ray, just to make sure that it wasn't bacterial. As a tender mercy, it wasn't. He wanted to see us each day for the rest of the week to make sure she got over the peak of it.

However, there was nothing we could do about the seizures and spasms...except wait out the virus. Unfortunately, when the body is sick, it lowers the threshold for seizures. Making it even easier for her to go into them.

By Friday, Adalyn was still about the same. Her oxygen needs had gone up. Normally, she is on 1/16th of a liter, which isn't very much. Her breathing had become very labored, she sounded terrible.  When we went into the doctor's office that day, he decided she should be admitted into the hospital. 

As he said those words.....my heart sank. I immediately flashed back to our time in the NICU and felt over loaded with panic. "We can't watch her go through those things again..." was all that raced through my mind.

We came home before taking her to be admitted. We knelt with our family in prayer....and as part of his prayer...David prayed that this "Wouldn't be the worst experience ever." We all chuckled at the wording of that...but secretly I felt the same.

At the hospital, once again she was hooked up to extra monitors. She was suctioned, and then put on 2 liters of oxygen. The respiratory therapist told us to expect to be there 2-3 days. Then it was the waiting game. Adalyn slept the entire afternoon....very deeply. It was obvious how exhausted she was. By that night, her doctor came to check up on her.

As another tender mercy, he felt she could go home....on the 2 liters of oxygen, and continuing to follow up with them each day.

We were so grateful that night.....knowing our prayers had been answered. Being home is yet again a wave of emotions. Sometimes....it is so hard to know if we are doing the right thing. Especially during the moments when Adalyn's breathing sounds so terrible....and looks so labored.

These days....she hardly has any good awake time. She is either sleeping.....or awake and feeling fussy. It is during that awake time when she again has seizures. Our hearts can't help but wonder if this is how things will be for her..

Again and again we feel we are backed up against the wall....staring down our deepest fears. There are no words to describe how much it can hurt.

I was thinking about my fears today. At times, it feels like this crushing weight...that I don't always feel able to bear. I think it is easy to let our fears consume us. To give into it's heavy weight. In those moments that we give in, our fears lead us to doubting our confidence in God.

I have realized that we can't always run away from our fears. Sometimes we have to face them directly, as much as it may hurt. I have resigned to knowing I cannot see the end of this tunnel. I have to continually put my trust in Him. It is something I have to daily. I have to keep turning my fears over to Him.

It is then we somehow find the courage to face our fears.

Our neurologist called us on Saturday to see how Adalyn was doing with her seizures and spasms. She increased again one of her medicines. On Monday, if they are still uncontrolled, we will significantly increase the medicine once more. If that doesn't work......we will have to give Adalyn a round of steroids. 

We are praying with all the energy of our hearts we can avoid the steroids. For an infant, the side effects can be heavy. Already....the medicine we are increasing makes her incredibly sleepy...Giving us only 1-2 hours of awake time a day with her.

We again ask for your prayers for our sweet little girl. She is a fighter and has over come so much. She reminds us each day that there is a God. That He does perform miracles in our lives.

I have listened to this song at least a dozen times the past hour. It is beautiful!

Our Ray of Light.

Hello world.

Meet Adalyn Grace Brown. 

Born May 2, 2015. 7lbs and 8oz. She is our miracle in absolutely every way.

When I was about 24 weeks pregnant, we began finding out the problems that our little girl may face. Though....I won't expound on all of that. To read from the beginning, you can click this post .

We were told that because of her little brain, there were many unknowns about her birth. They weren't sure if she would be born breathing.....or if she was....would she have the ability to remember to breath on her own? Would she be able to have the ability to eat or keep down her food?

Miracle #1
As soon as Adalyn was born....all I could think was "Breathe! Is she breathing?!" Then I heard her little wail and wanted to burst into tears. Squeezing David's had, we both knew God was in charge....angels were present. 

She was immediately taken and handed through a window to the NICU. As the minutes ticked by, I grew more and more anxious.

 Miracle #2 
The NICU doctor came in smiling. Adalyn was holding her own! She is a fighter, and was stable. David was able to go back with her.

Miracle #3 
She was sucking a binkie right off. Despite her little cleft palate....she was rooting and sucking! A reflex they weren't sure she would have. Her APGAR scores were normal.

I couldn't see her for a little over an hour after she was born. I felt so anxious! When they finally wheeled me back....my heart was bursting. Seeing David hold our little girl.....who was alive...who was doing great...I didn't know it was possible to love so greatly in one instant.

In that moment, I had such comfort. In that moment, we were all three strong. 

Miracle #4
Our little Adalyn was able to keep her food down. They had put her on a feeding tube, but all was going great. Soon she was moved to the most stable section of the NICU.

Miracle #5
Adalyn was born on a Saturday. Little did we know how much we would need that peaceful weekend with her to prepare us for the upcoming days filled with doctors, tests, and more emotions than I could process.

Monday is when the whirlwind began. Neurology had their MRI. X-rays were taken. Blood work done. And a new IV had to be placed since her first one didn't last very long. (They had placed her on precautionary antibiotics since I was in labor for so long).

Watching them take her for the MRI was hard. At the time though....David and I felt hopeful. We were certain her scans would look better. After all...she was doing so good!

Taking her for the MRI to the other hospital

Soon after....the neurologist wanted to meet with us to go over her scan. I think I was incredibly unprepared. Like putting on a swimsuit expecting sunshine.. and walking out into a giant blizzard. The neurologist began....aside from her brainstem....pretty much every aspect of her little brain is affected in some way. Much more global than we ever imagined. Outcomes....life expectancy....problems that could arise. I suddenly felt like I was drowning. I was trying not to fall apart. Trying to some how keep my voice from wavering. It felt like the only thing keeping me a float was David's hand. It was single handed the hardest moment of my life. I felt like my heart was shattering...and the pieces flying all over. 

David and I went into a room and held each other and sobbed. Our hearts ached so deeply. For a while,.. there were no words that would come out. Just tears. How could we ever face this? Our little girl is so  perfect. So beautiful.

That evening, I was also discharged from the hospital. We were leaving without our baby. Trying to process an ounce of our day was too hard.

Through those days, were carried by strength other than our own. Holding our sweet little Adalyn, we were stronger. She is our inspiration. She is the biggest and most stable baby in the NICU. She takes feedings like a champ...Not to mention, she is working on bottle feeds. She continues to defy predictions daily.

Miracle #6
Throughout the week, we made it by seeing so many tender mercies. David had to go back to Vegas to finish classes. Seeing him leave was hard. I wanted to somehow just send a clone of him down there so he could stay with me. I was afraid of facing the rest of the week without him. It was hard, because I wanted to be selfish and keep him with me. But it was even harder knowing the burdens and stresses he felt on his shoulders.... Leaving me and Adalyn at the hospital, driving so far, school, graduating...the unknown that lies ahead.

Lucky for me....I was so blessed while he was gone. Through many prayers, amazing family support and a sister who was like a super hero...keeping track of me...what I needed...making sure I ate and took my medicine...being there to laugh and cry with me.

The rest of the week has been a blur. I have felt moments of pure happiness. I have felt overwhelmed with gratitude. I have felt so humbled.

I love this hairy little back!

After seemingly a zillion other doctor visits....we had more news to process.

Miracle #7
Adalyn has vision in her right eye. She may have some in her left, but the eye is too small to open currently.

Miracle #8
Adalyn had been on an IV since she was born since I had been in labor for so long....they wanted to do a 7 day course just for precautions. However, they struggled each time with the IV. She was poked so many times! They even tried to do a pic line twice and failed. By the fourth day....they were grasping at straws trying to find a place to poke her. Right as the nurse came to do an IV...one of the doctors came to say that she didn't need the rest of the course...meaning no more IV!

This is her "I hate IV's!" face

With David in Vegas,,.,,the days seemed much longer. So many doctor visits. Times of feeling like a terrible new mom. And times I felt my strength draining.

One particular day...genetics came to talk to me. They had a syndrome in mind....but they weren't really sure. It doesn't quite fit Adalyn...but they can't find anything else. There is no specific test for it...so they can't be sure....and it is a spontaneous thing. Again....the doctor went over life expentancy..future predictions...on and on. Yet also reminding me that it has just as high of a likelihood of being this syndrome as it does of not being this syndrome. (So you told me all of this because..? Was sort of how I felt)

Again that evening on the phone with David...I cried. I just wanted to take our little girl home! Away from beeping monitors....wires....doctors...all of it. Never in  a million years would we have wanted her to endure such hard things. 

Yet now, as I sit here and write this....I am reminded that God is in charge. This has been the longest....hardest...week and a half of our lives. However...David and I have decided that is Adalyn was brave enough to come here knowing the challenges she may face...then we could be brave enough to be her parents. 

Having David back for the weekend was like getting re-charged with hope. Together...and through the Christ....we can keep moving forward. Adalyn loves her daddy so much! She falls asleep in an instant in his arms....and loves to hear him sing. We has also decided that Adalyn is her own kind of special. We feel so strongly that she is here for a beautiful purpose. We don't know what the future will bring, but we will hold to hope.

And as one woman said to me this week hope goes farther. 

We will learn and grow as she does. Even with her many anomalies...the doctors and nurses are so impressed with little Adalyn. She has already exceeded so many expectations! Once we get her feedings in a good place, either completely on the bottle or at least half....we will be able to take her home. I already long for that day! One day in the NICU feels like a hundred.

Despite the challenges this past week has brought...there have been moments of beauty and humor.

Like how frequently Adalyn explosively poops right in the middle of changing her diaper. Or the quiet moments of singing her to sleep. The exciting moments of being so proud when she accomplishes something (like drinking from the bottle). The beautiful moments of her staring right at us....and feeling like she is looking right into our soul!

Becoming a parent is still surreal. We continually pray for Adalyn. That she can be strengthened. That she can have the best life we can offer her...That she can continue to be our little miracle.....And that David and I can be strong enough to make the right decisions.

Our lives are changed for the better because of her. We are so blessed to be her parents! Even though it has been hard....even though our hearts have been pulled in more ways then I could have ever imagined...even though at times we are scared for the future....We know that love is greater. Love is powerful. And we wouldn't trade that love for anything in the world.


We have seen more miracles and tender mercies this past week than I could ever count. I listed only a few here. Prayer is powerful. God is in the details of our lives. We have to take each day as it comes for now,,,,the good and the bad.

It is hard. Really hard. I never thought that I could have so many tears readily at hand, So many aspects of our lives are changing.

In these moments...I remind myself of a scripture David read to me....

2 Timothy 1:7
 For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

And part of this talk from Elder Whitney Clayton

All of us will, at some time or another, have to traverse our own spiritual wilderness and undertake our own rugged emotional journeys. In those moments, however dark or seemingly hopeless they may be, if we search for it, there will always be a spiritual light that beckons to us, giving us the hope of rescue and relief. That light shines from the Savior of all mankind, who is the Light of the World.

Thank you for so many prayers on our behalf. I apologize for those who have reached out through text....phone...or messages. We have been rather terrible at having our phones. 

Most of all we are blessed. Blessed to have our little Adalyn Grace. The brightest light in our lives. She is beautiful in every way..