The Story of Theo's Birth, part 2

Pt. 2

They tried to call Brett, but it was around 4pm and I knew he couldn’t answer the phone at work. Seeing the repeated phone calls, he thought it was the chiropractor calling to confirm his appointment for the next day so he still didn’t pick up. Finally, I managed to compose myself enough to text him: “I need you to come to Dr. Peppy’s please.” They warned me not to say anything specific so he wouldn’t be distracted or get into an accident on his way.

They took me to an empty exam room at the far end of the doctor’s office and left with me with a box of tissues and a bottle of water to wait for my husband. Longest 40-ish minutes of my life! I sat sobbing until I thought I ran out of tears, took a drink, blew my nose, and then started thinking about my reality and it all bubbled up again. A nurse I didn’t know heard me and checked on me once, letting me cry for a moment and offering her condolences. A while later one of my nurses came in, hugged me, and reassured me than though I didn’t feel like it now, I was going to be ok. She was so young, so hopeful, and those words sounded like cotton candy in my darkest moment, though I know she meant well.

Finally, Brett arrived to a mostly empty office and they escorted him back to me. When I saw him I just fell into his arms, sobbing all over again. I thought I they would have told him, but they didn’t. I had to say the words. I felt like I had failed him, betrayed him, taken away his greatest hope, his son. I had only one job, to carry and protect his growing child, and somehow I had failed miserably without even knowing it. Of course in the grand scheme of things I know it wasn’t my fault, but it certainly felt like it in that moment.

Dr. Peppy came in after a few minutes and talked to us about our options. Normally in the case of “fetal demise” as they call it, they would induce labour - even though the baby was breech - because their main priority at that point is the mother’s health. However, he said he would advocate for whatever we wanted. I felt very strongly about having a C-section. We had no idea when the baby had actually passed away, and I couldn’t imagine putting either one of us through the trauma of a long, potentially problematic labour and delivery. That decided, he told us he would get us on the schedule for the next afternoon, and sent us home to prepare.

We left the extra car there and I rode with Brett. We called my mom as we left the office, as she had been waiting for final plans to buy her flight out. She broke down with us in tearful condolences, then went to talk to my dad and figure out when they would come anyway. As we drove in stunned, devastated silence, we came upon the Orlando Temple (of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints). I drove by there every time I went to the OB, but on this awful evening when we really had nowhere else to be, I told Brett to turn in.

We parked in the first lot and sat there staring at the huge, beautiful building where we had made eternal promises to each other just a year before. We didn’t have appropriate clothes or our temple recommends; I still remember the casual outfit and flip flops I was wearing. I just couldn’t think of any other place that we could find any sort of comfort that night. Within a few minutes, my old Bishop, Rodger Anderson, pulled up right beside us. I jumped out, told him briefly what had happened and he gave each of us huge hugs like only he can. Then he told us we needed to get inside; it didn’t matter how we were dressed.

He went ahead to find the Recorder who could look up our recommend information. As we waited sheepishly in the lobby, out walked the Relief Society President from our ward, Laura Terry, and her counselor, Ilda Spurgeon. I didn’t know them very well at the time, but I knew they could gather the women of the ward to support us through the following weeks and months. And there they were, right in our path and ready to help.

We went inside, and decided to meet up in the Celestial room, the earthly representation of Heaven. I changed into white temple clothes and went straight up. I didn’t want to wait around or talk to anyone else. By the time Brett joined me, he had his brother Jared and his wife Carla with him. Brett had been waiting for me downstairs when they came in, and Brett was finally able to let go of all the emotional burden and cry with his brother. They had no idea we were going to be there; they just felt they should go to the temple that night. As they sat with us, we talked through what we knew, what we were going to do, and how we were feeling. I flipped pretty regularly between uncontrollable tears, morbid humor, and shocked denial. And yet, somehow as we sat there, I also felt this incredible strength, peace and warmth surrounding us. I know Theo was right there with us, helping us process and shoulder this horrible truth. Not to mention the comfort we felt from the obvious divine orchestration surrounding us with just the right people we needed in our darkest and most difficult moment. Even as my world was falling apart, I knew God was right there beside me, loving me enough to put these people in my path and reminding me that though he could not take away this horrible, painful, loss, he could carry me through it.

And then, just to further emphasize that, in walked my current Bishop and his wife, Wade and Melissa Lowe. Of course! We were far from alone! They listened, held us, and before we went home Wade and Jared gave Brett and me priesthood blessings to comfort and strengthen us. We believe these blessings are given from God, through an authorized human mouthpiece, for our times of need. I focused on the key words used to help me remember what was said: Comfort, Peace, Love, Questions Answered, Clarity, Strength, Healing (recuperative power)… Now a year later, it is fascinating to see how each of those promised blessings came about to help me deal with the loss of my son, both that night and in the months that followed. I am so grateful we ended up in that sacred place of refuge, and for the precious connection I felt with our son - who we believe is eternally part of our family, no matter how early he passed away.

The Story of Theo's Birth, part 1

On Thursday December 27th, I had a routine 36-week checkup. All was well, my cervix was completely closed, and they did a routine ultrasound, showing our healthy, beautiful boy. He was breech, sitting with his head right up under my heart, but otherwise perfect. My doctor began making plans for delivery by Cesarean section in 3 weeks. There was still a possibility that he could turn, but Dr. Peppy wanted to be prepared either way and not end up with some random doctor delivering him in an emergency. I joked that I didn't want to share my birthday, and asked for January 17th just to leave a full day before mine. I also joked about having to celebrate my own day in the hospital because of my stubborn son. Such petty humor in hindsight.

That Sunday afternoon we met up with our talented sister-in-law Carla to take maternity photos. We had pushed them back a bit, but finally found a time that worked. It was an unseasonably hot and humid 82 degrees. I was swollen and uncomfortable. My hair was a little greasy and wouldn't hold a curl. My makeup felt heavy and gross, and we were running late, but despite all the frustrations, I was determined to get those photos taken! We had procrastinated enough!

It also happened to be a year and a day after our wedding, and we did the photo shoot in Nelson Park, adjacent to Tanner Hall where we had our reception.

12/29/2017

12/30/2018
What a difference a year makes!

I'm so incredibly grateful we persevered and Carla was willing to work with us that afternoon. She captured some absolutely gorgeous photos. Somehow the lighting was perfect, and some of the shots look nearly angelic. I do look a little chubby, but I was 36 weeks pregnant! And I am so very grateful we have the pictures, because it was likely one of the last days Theo was with us. These are our only family photos with him alive.

We went to family dinner at Brett's home parents’ right after photos. As we sat and relaxed after dinner our nephew Lucien had a sweet moment getting to know his cousin Theo. It was precious.

The next few days were a blur of everyday monotony. As instructed, I tracked Theo's movements each day. It turns out that as a first-time mom I was mostly counting Braxton Hicks contractions, gas, and nerve pain. I have no idea when he actually stopped moving. In addition, everyone I had mentioned it to had been so concerned about Theo being breech, and commented how awful it would be to have a Cesarean birth. The funny thing is that it never bothered me at all. All I was concerned about was a healthy baby, and knowing the date of my delivery actually gave me an end date to plan for and look forward to. However, I did look up a few natural methods and theories for turning a breech baby, and tried a few yoga poses. I remember my belly feeling more loose and squishy with my hips raised, but I attributed it to the position, not a dead baby.

Brett had a few days off for the holidays so we had a chill day at home on New Year's Eve, then met up for dinner with some friends who were in town. We went to bed long before midnight, but did watch some fireworks out our window. I was so incredibly swollen and uncomfortable that we looked up natural remedies and I ate a bunch of bananas. The swelling magically eased off in the next day or two, but now I don't know if it was the bananas or the fact that Theo's blood was no longer pumping.

On Tuesday we went to a matinee of Mary Poppins. Wednesday I mailed some late Christmas packages and Brett trained as usual. Thursday was a busy day of appointments. We were supposed to get some electrical work done in preparation for solar panel installation the next day. Fortunately, there was a conflict and they rescheduled the whole thing for the next week. Fortunate because, as it turned out, that week week we had much more important things to worry about. That was the day our lives changed forever.

I went to the chiropractor first, then rushed off to make it to my OB appointment on time. For some reason the wait times in both offices were abnormally long that day. It was nearing the end of their business day when I finally got in to see my doctor. I changed, he came in and starting talking through plans for the C-section in two weeks. It would be in the evening, we'd check in after Brett got off work, blah blah blah... Everything was casual. Then he pulled out the Doppler, and checked for Theo's heartbeat - which had always been strong, consistent, and captured the second the Doppler touched my belly. But this time, there was no sound. Dr. Peppy moved it around a bit and said maybe the baby had flipped. But I knew he hadn't and began to realize something was off. I could still feel his head right below my left ribs. Dr. Peppy left the room and brought back a portable ultrasound machine. While I waited for his return I remember looking up and praying, "Healthy baby, healthy me. Whatever it takes. Please Heavenly Father!"

When Dr. Peppy had used the portable scanner he said something about low fluid and wanting to get a better look. He told me to get dressed, so I did, and then followed him into the ultrasound room, where just one week earlier the same tech had joked with me about the strong personality of my perfect baby boy. Only this time as she scanned over the profile of his body, there was no movement and the fluttery spot where his heart was, was completely still. Dr. Peppy took my hand and said something like, "I’m so sorry, but there's no heartbeat." I looked up at the ultrasound tech and tears were streaming down her face. Peppy began to tear up too, and suddenly I realized what he was saying. Then instantly I was hit with a wave of powerless despair, and started simultaneously sobbing and screaming out to God that somehow it wasn't true…

.

.

.

As the reality sunk in, lying there in the dark, my first coherent thoughts were "all that work for nothing!” and “I have to do this all over again...” I wanted so badly to have my own baby. I WANT a baby of my own so badly!! And pregnancy had been such a long, uncomfortable process for me. Yet there I was, just two weeks away from meeting my perfect, stubborn, little bundle of love… and he had silently passed away inside me.

Six Stories for My Theo

Oh the twisty turns our lives can take! Once again, much has changed in the year since I last blogged. Our great expectation turned to devastation just after the new year, and I have spent the past year grieving, healing, learning, and rebuilding.

January 3rd, 2019 was literally the worst day of my life, the day I learned that my baby had died inside me. I was always a pretty dramatic kid, so I’m no stranger to creating scenarios in my head and playing the “What if…” game. But this scenario had never occurred to me. Nothing on earth could have prepared me for the shock of that day, or the incomparable heartache that comes from the loss of an infant, especially one whose existence was filled with so much hope and anticipation.

It has been difficult to know how to share this journey, but then I remembered a book I came across toward the end of my pregnancy called "Six Stories Every Mom Should Tell" by Denise J. Hughes (you can find her blog explaining it and where to buy it here).


Hughes wanted a way to record things that meant more than just the standard facts normally recorded in a baby book. She wanted to share with her daughter what mattered most to who she was and where she came from. I couldn't afford the book at the time, but I liked the concept so I made a note in my phone to record those stories at some point for my child.

The six stories are:
1. The story of their birth.
2. The story of how you picked their name.
3. A story that reflects their strengths.
4. The story of how you met Jesus.
5. The story of how you met their dad.
6. The story of your dreams.

When Theo died, I struggled to know how to share a life that never got to take his first breath; one so precious to Brett and me, but that so few people ever even saw. And I wanted to write, because I love to write, but it was hard to find the right words or know if, when, or how to share them. It took several months, but I've decided to share my six stories with Theo, here (linked in list above). If angels can read thoughts he probably knows them already, but I want to record them anyway, just in case he (or someone else) needs to hear it.

Great Expectations

Sometimes I feel like an impostor in my own life. It's like I'm playing pretend in someone else's story line and one day I'm going to wake up and it'll all be over.

A little over a year ago I was fresh off a trip to France. I had just completed my first half marathon and flown over top of a volcano. I was gearing up for my best friend to come visit and then go help with a newborn baby in Florida. Only halfway through, it was already shaping up to be a pretty epic year and I was genuinely happy. And yet, I never could have anticipated what my life would look like just one year later.

          

And that is because I flew solo for a long time. I had a few good relationships and plenty of interesting dates over the years, but I spent most of my life on my own, trying to create my own version of happiness withe the opportunities that came my way. I basically went from adventure to adventure; I always had a trip to look forward to or a new experience to anticipate. So now that I am married - although it began as one of those new adventures - somehow left me feeling a little out of sorts. Don't get me wrong, being married is loads of fun! My husband is a cutie, a total goofball who laughs at my ridiculousness and puts up with my insanity, and has these massive, muscly arms that always make me feel safe and at home. And every once in a while, he's even willing to humor me with some travel plans or other adventure-seeking schemes. However, it is so different having someone else to answer to and having a life to build with him instead of just on my own. I really hope it's not a bad thing but sometimes I honestly forget I married! And now my life is shaping into a whole other kind of adventure. Because, well, I'm pregnant.

Never would I have believed that just a year after my bucket-list adventures I would be married, living in Florida, owning a house, and expecting my first child. Never. That's INSANE!! Life is crazy and unpredictable and amazing!! Lest anyone think I'm complaining about these things, oh trust me I'm not! It's just so mind-blowingly surreal that I have a hard time processing it all. It is absolutely amazing what can happen when you trust a higher power and are willing to take chances. And it's amazing how quickly those changes can take place.

For years I have been watching my friends make cute and creative baby announcements. I have prayed for them, sent well-wishes and a few gifts when I actually got organized to, and even flew out to see and help with several of my friends' babies over the years. I have marveled over the fascinating process of becoming a mother - the intricacies and uniqueness of each pregnancy. In fact, my friend has a beautiful podcast called Cocoon: Stories of Gestation (find it here, or on Facebook) that tactfully and honestly shares a variety of stories of how pregnancy and motherhood affects women in so many completely unique, yet universal ways. I have been listening to it for years, but feeling more like I was only eavesdropping from another room. I was completely in awe of each intimate and amazing story, but I felt like I didn't really have the right to be there as a single, childless woman. Until recently, that is.

And yet, it still feels like I'm living someone else's story. Because for all those many years of living my single, celibate Super-Aunty life, I ached for a child of my own. In fact, often more than a husband, I just wanted a baby; a little human to call my own as I loved, learned, failed, and triumphed my way through the journey of parenthood. It had begun to feel like sheer fantasy, a complete impossibility. Then suddenly last year I re-met my match, got engaged, and motherhood became an entirely real and feasible option for me.

And I was terrified.

It was crazy! I had spent years hoping and praying for the opportunity to be a mother, and yet, once I was finally married and in the position to do so, I found myself paralyzed by fear. After the many expenses of our long-distance courtship and what was actually a rather small and simple wedding, then finding myself as a homeowner with limited work options for the time being, I was worried about finances. I was overwhelmed and confused by all the costly insurance options, and irritated by the complexities and costs of the American medical system - never mind the expenses of raising a child for 18+ years!

I saw dear friends struggling through the heartache of infertility, and babies lost so early in their precious lives. I saw the challenges of birth defects, disorders, illness and injury. I worried about my age and my health, whether I would be able to carry a baby considering my myriad back problems, be fit enough to keep up with children, or even get pregnant in the first place. Then there were all the impending emotional demands and stresses. I'm a ball of stress all on my own! And then of course there's the horrible state of this world, and all the discouraging and downright awful things happening to people in this very country. The list goes on! It's the craziest thing, but getting married actually made me less optimistic and more paranoid in so many ways!

However, I know that fear is of the devil (literally, it's his favorite toy) and I didn't want to let it stop me from living my life. I wasn't getting any younger, and weighing even more heavily on my heart and mind was how badly my husband wanted to be a father. He had been waiting and hoping for many years too, and though completely submissive to my choice in the matter, and even as his jokes about "making babies" waned, I could tell how important it was to him.

Interestingly, over the first few months of married life - in the midst of adjusting to each other and the highs and lows of establishing a life together - I had the opportunity to talk to and spend time with a few of my parent friends, particularly those who had experienced loss. I don't know that they'll ever understand how much their willingness to share their experience with such sincerity, faith, and maturity gave me strength and filled me with hope. Their kind examples of patience through their difficulties, and optimism in spite of their heartbreak reminded that uncertainty, loss, and pain are all part of what we are meant to experience in this life. Without the worries and fears and pains to overcome, how would we ever learn or grow or become better, more empathetic and kind human beings? Without taking chances and stepping into the darkness, I would never allow myself the possibilities of growth, whether through blissful joy or heartbreaking loss. The faith, courage and even joy I saw and felt from these friends reminded me to not let fear dictate my future, or that of my family. Any challenges that come are simply part of the beautiful journey of life, and without them, I cannot truly understand or appreciate the blessings, either.

So next I took it to God. I laid all my fears at his feet and decided to allow myself to be open to the possibility of parenthood. With all the varying stories I had heard, I had no idea what would happen or how long it would take, but I decided to just trust God and have faith that whatever would be, would be, and that every life and experience has value and meaning and impact.

And just a couple months later, I was pregnant.

It was the most surreal and strange feeling! It was so exciting, but also came with a little guilt. How was this so easy for me, but so difficult for these incredible people that were and would be the most amazing parents? I knew that was far beyond my control, and that they would of course be happy for me, but it also hurt my heart for them and I was a little nervous to share the news.

And to be honest, I didn't really "feel" pregnant. A couple weeks after finding out, the nausea arrived, and though I only actually vomited once, I felt absolutely horrible most of the time thanks to the not-just-morning-but-any-random-moment-of-the-day sickness. Fortunately, the worst of the nausea has now subsided, but I still don't really feel pregnant as much as I feel exhausted, limited, uncomfortable and chubby. I'm not really "showing" but my waistline has disappeared and all my excess pudge seems to have gathered to my front.

It may be a little less enjoyable for me because I am having my first child a little later in life, or maybe this is just my body's individual experience. And I know there are amazing women who deal with far worse symptoms than I have, so I keep my complaining to my patient husband and continue going through the motions of life. I am educating myself, following my doctor's instructions, trying to eat as healthy as I can, sleeping whenever possible, and trying to get my brain functional enough to accomplish at least one thing on my miles-long to-do list, each day.

And for some reason, (possibly due to my previous apprehensions) I still felt the need to keep things relatively private. After all those years of sharing my life and adventures with my faraway friends around the world through social media, I had this intense desire to not announce anything official about my pregnancy. We told our families right away, of course, and attempted to tell our closest friends directly (although it turns out I have a whole lot of people I consider to be "close" friends, and we didn't quite make it to everyone!) It came up a few times in conversations or necessary situations (I go to theme parks often - there had to be a disclaimer!) but for some reason, I just didn't want to make a fuss.

But it seems that declaring my affection for my husband and gratitude for his patience through my insanity (which has been relevant ever since we starting dating, I might add) obviously means I'm pregnant. Since we're newlyweds, people have just been waiting for this news, and some very blatant comments were made on my cheesy love post. I felt pressured to say something official before more assumptions were made, but opted to leave it to my overly excited, father-to-be husband, since I still didn't want to personally proclaim it to the world. And while he had several other cute and creative baby announcement ideas, what was posted under pressure was a wee bit ridiculous and confusing - even to those who somewhat understand his wacky sense of humor! Bless him. He's wanted to use that video for something for way too long, and well, here we are!

So it may not have been some ingeniously crafted Photoshop image, imaginative video, or adorable semi-professional photo shoot. It may be a little odd and surprising, but hey, so are we! And the greatest thing I have learned through the somewhat unpleasant existence that is pregnancy for me, is that it may not always be fun, but I'm not alone in this process. I don't know why I forget that so often, but I suppose I'm still letting go of my former singular ways. And hence, my uber sappy "I love my husband" post yesterday (here, in case you missed it).

Somehow being at my worst has brought out his best, and we're only a few months in! Which makes me honestly excited and helps me overcome all the frustration, fear and anxiety about this phase of our lives. Because this isn't just another adventure I'm diving into on my own. This is OUR little critter, OUR future family, OUR worry for the rest of forever, OUR child. And that makes all the difference in the world.💗💗💗

Best. Day. Ever.

It's family day back in Alberta. Which is interesting, because I have been missing my family something fierce the past few days. It's nice to have Brett's family close. We see them at least once a week, and usually more. But I sure do miss my Harper/Wade crew, and some good ol' Canadian conversation!
So I thought it was an appropriate day to finally share our wedding video, when a few of my amazing family members (and friends who are pretty much family) were able to make the trek to Orlando for the happiest day of my life - and so that all who weren't there can feel part of our incredibly special day. Love you all!! Happy Family Day!

Awesome Videographer: Nathan Schmoe (nathanschmoe.com)
Fabulous Music: "River Flows in You" by Yiruma and "Fire and the Flood" by Vance Joy

New Year. New Name. New Life.

Having a birthday in January gives me two milestones for a fresh start - with a few weeks of reflection in between to really settle on my goals and plans for the year and review the past year's accomplishments. There is no way I could have predicted a year ago where I find myself now. In fact, marriage was the farthest possibility from my mind! However, I did feel pretty good about 2017. I just knew it was my year! A year of travel, achieving big goals, professional growth, and amazing possibilities. But I had no idea just how wonderful it would be!

In the past year I:
Celebrated my 35th birthday with multiple events in Hawaii
Visited New York and New Jersey

Returned to Paris for the temple open house


Ran my first half-marathon at Disneyland (after running a 10k the day before)
Edited online curriculum like crazy
Took over managing audio recordings and become Editing team lead

Explored the Big Island of Hawaii
Hosted my bff in Hawaii

Visited Florida to welcome a new baby
Re-connected with an old friend (thank you Facebook birthdays!!)
Went home to Alberta for a family reunion
Road-tripped to Jasper National park with that old friend
Fell in love with the old friend

Was followed to Hawaii by my old friend
Got engaged to that old friend
Taught 2.5 semesters of English as an International Language
Planned our wedding

Attended my cousin's long-anticipated wedding in Manitoba
Hosted my fiance in Hawaii

Celebrated our engagement with my Hawaiian Ohana

Dragged my fiance to Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween Party

Ran another half-marathon (and 10k) at Walt Disney World

Was spoiled with bridal showers in Hawaii and Utah, and a bachelorette party in Florida
Transferred to online teaching and working remotely
Packed up, bid "Aloha Oe" to Hawaii, and moved across the country (and half an ocean)
Applied for a mortgage
Took a couple dozen flights, half of them red-eye
Survived 5 months of a long-distance relationship without giving up or killing each other
Bought a house
Celebrated Christmas with our combined families
Got married to the best possible match I could never have imagined finding yet was right there in front of me for nearly a decade - with so many of our dearest friends and family there to celebrate with us

Began our honeymoon in St. Augustine
Froze our booties off waiting for New Year's Eve fireworks on the beach, watched 5-minutes-worth, then went home and to bed early
Started living our "happily ever after" ❤

2017 was soooooo good to me! 2018 has a lot to live up to, but I know it will be even better because I get to share it with him. I get to keep living and learning and growing and adventuring, but now I have a permanent partner in crime to accompany me - and calm me down when all that life gets to be too much.

On a final random note: I have heard several stories over the years about awesome Mormon women getting married a little "later" in life. They all had different stories, but there seemed to be one common thread: many got married at 35. I thought of that a year ago and said, "Yeah, that won't be me!" And yet, I just celebrated my 36th birthday - as a very happily married Mormon woman. I'm telling you, 35 is magic! Or maybe it was just 2017... either way, I'm not complaining! ;) Here's to another year of awesomeness!!
#yearinreview2017 #timingiseverything #blessedblessedblessed #friendstofiancés #dreamsdocometrue #justcallmesadie #marriedlady #runDisney #anythingispossible

Faith, Trust, and Aloha

Last summer, in the midst of job rejections and figuring out new plans, my dad made a comment about someone he wanted me to meet in Hawaii. I had no impending plans to visit, and felt no urgency to get there. Of course, with my parents living there, I knew I would eventually get back, but trying to scheme a separate trip just wasn't a priority.

(And before you ask, nothing came of that someone, and this move is entirely unrelated to that.)

So once my new plans started coming together for studies in the southern hemisphere, it only made sense to stop in to visit my parents in Hawaii on my way back from New Zealand. It would give me some time to re-group, catch up with my parents and friends there, and enjoy Christmas holidays with them. I also hoped to work on some job applications. I had a few leads for teaching English internationally thanks to my new TESOL certificate, and felt like I just needed some time to sort through it all and find a clear direction for my next step.

I had only been on Oahu about a week when my mom texted me, all excited about something. She had run into the chair of the English Language Teaching and Learning department at BYU-Hawaii. I had thought about maybe doing some volunteer tutoring with the department while I was visiting. However, when mom mentioned to her that I had just finished my CELTA and also had a master's degree in language teaching, the chair was insistent to meet me. I sent her my resume, stopped by for a chat, and suddenly, I had a job offer! With 2 full-time instructors about to go on leave, and a new online curriculum under development, they need teachers! I happened to have the right training at the right place and the right time!

Although it was an exciting offer, I was hesitant because of my Canadian citizenship. I knew I would have to obtain some sort of work visa in order to work in the US. That was when they told me about a work authorization that exists through the North American Free Trade Agreement, that allows Canadians and Mexicans with certain professional credentials to obtain short-term work permission. University teacher was one of those professions. All I needed was an official job offer and to head home so I could apply for the permission upon re-entrance at the US border.

All of this happened so fast, I could hardly process it all! However, I had a couple months to do so, as I waited for the offer letter, and the right time to go home. I was also hesitant to get too excited, in case it didn't work out for whatever reason. I have had back experiences with sharing good news too soon and then it going sour...

An interesting thing happened in those 2 months. Though I have loved my time in Hawaii in the past, I still always felt a little out of place. I wasn't completely confident with myself whenever I was there. I met awesome people and made wonderful friends, but I felt too old for the student crowd, and too young for my parents' crowd. I helped with projects, but never felt like I could really invest because I always knew I would have to leave. It wasn't my place.

But this time was different somehow. Something about being just a couple years older made me feel more peace within myself. Honestly, much of that is probably thanks to my experiences in Australia and New Zealand. I had gained so much peace and trust in the path that my Father in Heaven was leading me on, that it gave me the confidence I had lacked before. And I guess it was finally the right timing. I felt like my life experience and age difference divided me just enough from the students to feel more professional. And yet, I still felt youthful, vibrant, and happy - in fact I am often still asked if I am a student here :)

I got involved with projects that seemed truly inspired, connecting with some awesome students. Things that would not only build great future opportunities, but also create bridges between departments on campus to improve the students' experiences. I went back to one of the best singles' wards on the planet, and had several absolutely amazing Sundays filled with inspired words, spiritual strength, and old and new friends. I also tried looking into a few other work opportunities, but each time I did it felt stressful, confusing or awkward. I suppose with everything being lined up so beautifully for me here, I didn't need to look elsewhere. I felt so much love and concern from God. It was so humbling!

With the new year came my offer letter, and just reading it got me excited again. It was starting to feel real! In an attempt to maximize my travel time and budget, and join my sister's vacation time, I set out on a multi-stop trip to visit close friends on my way home to pack and prepare for this new job. I spent a glorious, albeit chilly week playing at Walt Disney World with my fabulous younger sister, and catching up and karaoke-ing with old friends. I visited my dear friend and husband in their new South Florida home and got to attend her baby shower and soak up many hours of conversation and laughter. I then made my way to Utah for a very busy week helping my BFF and her brilliant students with their latest play, while cramming in as many visits as possible with friends there. And I finally made it home to sort through my stored belongings, pack some clothes and belongings for my new adventure, check-in with family, and head out again!

After all these wonderful travels and visits and wonderful times across multiple time zones, I felt so completely humbled and blessed! I had tried my best to just enjoy each day as it came, and not worry about the future 'what ifs' that awaited me. It was amazing!! Seriously, it felt like each day was a total gift, I felt insane amounts of love for each friend who made the time to see me, and I felt so much hope for my future. I knew that no matter how things went, it was the way God had prepared for me - and I was more than willing to let His all-knowing hand take the lead away from my limited view.

I felt good, but extremely nervous regarding the work authorization application and crossing the border. Of course, I have had bad experiences in the past, so that may have been part of it. But I really think I needed to feel that to help me better prepare with all the necessary documentation, and to be ready to respond calmly to whatever circumstances I would face.

My first flight was uneventful, and I knew I had only an hour and a half to go through security and customs, make my application, and catch my connecting flight. There was a bit of a line through security, but it moved okay. The bigger issue was once I reached the waiting room for customs pre-approval. They were making everyone use these automated kiosks to do their declarations, instead of hand-writing it while in line, then handing it directly to the officers, like they used to. Unfortunately, this bit of technology actually slowed things down a lot, and everyone was stressed out about missing their planes. It turned out that I had to do a hand-written form anyway, because of my work authorization... of course ;)

Anyway, after all this I finally got to the most kind, and even flirtatious, border officer I had ever encountered, with about 40 minutes before my flight took off. He led me to a very quiet waiting room for secondary processing, and left me to my thoughts. Everyone waiting in there looked worried. You couldn't use cell phones. I did my best to practice my yoga breathing and stay calm. Freaking out never made anything better, and I just wanted to send positive vibes to the girl processing my application. She called me up at one point for some clarification, then I was sent back to wait. As my flight time grew closer, my silent prayers became "Please let this go through in time for my flight!" But then I realized that it was much more important than it was done properly, so I let go and asked "Please let this process properly so that I can go begin this new life and opportunity in Hawaii. I feel like I can do some good there. If it means I have to miss my flight and get there later, I'll be fine. Please just let this go through as necessary."

A wave of calm came over me, and I completely relaxed. Eventually, about 15 minutes after my flight time, she called me up again, and kindly explained that though my documentation was adequate, my offer letter was missing some details. But instead if simply turning it down, she gave me permission to get on my phone and get what they needed. Within a half hour I had contacted my future employer (who miraculously answered the unfamiliar call), she had sent a new, more detailed letter, I had contacted my family, found a hotel for the night, paid my fee.....and got that beautiful little stamp of approval. I was in!! This new adventure was officially happening!!

The way it all came about, after so much anticipation, was rather humorous, humbling once again, and absolutely happy!! I could hardly believe it!!

The airline kindly re-booked me for the next evening, and I spent a relaxing night and day in the Vancouver suburbs before boarding my actual flight to Honolulu. The next step in my wacky and wonderful life has finally, officially begun!!

So that's the story. I am now in the process of all the fun paperwork, training, and preparation as the newest adjunct faculty member of BYU-Hawaii!! Patience is still a daily test for this little go-getter, but I have lots of practice with enjoying each day - so that's exactly what I'm continuing to do. And let me tell you, each day is filled with blessings! I have a real job, using my degrees, in a beautiful place with all sorts of awesome people to serve and learn from. I am blessed, blessed, blessed!!!!

Getting lost - and what I found along the way.

Six months ago I arrived in Abidjan, Côte-d’Ivoire. Today I find myself in Laie, Hawaii, after months of education, adventure, and growth in France, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, and New York City.

Say whaaaaaaaaat???

That is about how I feel, so I can only imagine what others must think of my extraordinary life. Allow me to fill you in a little on how I got to this point, and the amazing the series of experiences that have guided my decisions along the way. Even in these short few months and in such simple ways, I can look back and see a very specific purpose for each step along the way. I can never doubt the presence of a higher power guiding my life, because I couldn't have imagined all this myself!

The first half of 2015 was a bit of a roller coaster. I took several leaps of faith and repeatedly fell flat on my face. With my work ending and no future opportunities coming together, I felt pretty lost. In spite of the job rejections and failures, I decided to just keep moving forward as if I did have somewhere to go at the end of June. Around that time I had read a story about a family who lived their life in faith, as if the blessings were coming, and at the right time they did come, and the family was perfectly prepared for them. So instead of leaping again, I decided to simply use my faith to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Africa

That was when the opportunity was presented to go as a translator to the West African country of Ivory Coast with my Dad and a few BYUH students, to work with an NGO there. I knew I was joining the group late - only three 3 weeks before leaving - and it quickly became apparent that things were not very well organized for the trip. As an experienced traveler and almost-obsessive organizer, I wanted to help, but the guy in charge of the NGO - and therefore the whole trip - was adamant to do things himself. Although it was frustrating, I still felt good about going. I thought maybe it could lead to future professional opportunities, while giving my resources to those in need.

I also decided that I would move to Calgary, Alberta upon my return. I liked the city, there were lots of fun people with similar age and religious background to myself, and once I got there I was sure to find work. I also applied for my Alberta teaching certification so that, at the very least, I could substitute teach until I found something more permanent. It seemed like a smart and logical next step for me, and a good location to finally establish myself.

So I packed and prepared for the trip, while also putting things in motion to move to Calgary when I got back. As I prayed about my plans, I felt good and almost excited! It was the first thing to actually work out for me in months!





A canceled flight prolonged our travels, (and also planted a seed in my mind about Montreal) but eventually we made it to Abidjan. Many people have since asked me what I thought of the Ivory Coast (Côte-d’Ivoire). Honestly, the country itself is lovely! The jungles were lush and full of life. The cities busy and fascinating. The people we met were generally kind, respectful, resourceful, and hard-working. In fact, I was so impressed by how respectful and supportive the men were, both to the women in our group, and to their wives and the women in their villages and congregations. This had not been my previous experience with African men I had encountered through rude comments and cat calls in other countries. I cannot tell you how much I noticed and appreciated this difference!

The first couple days were uplifting, exciting and interesting. Unfortunately, it didn't last. There were some good moments, but overall it was a pretty miserable trip. This difficulty had very little to do with the location or the people we were trying to help. The bigger issue was the poor organization and mistreatment from the people in charge of our group.

     

     

I wish we had been able to experience more of the local people and the country itself, instead of being so contained and controlled in our little group. I won't re-hash all the sordid details here (it still gives me major anxiety when I think about it), but we decided to leave on day 10, halfway through the planned trip.

As soon as we decided to leave, both Dad and I felt an amazing wave of peace and joy come over us, and everything fell perfectly into place. We came into contact with so many kind and wonderful people who helped our quick and easy departure. Within a few hours of our decision to leave, we found ourselves on a nearly-empty, amazing flight with Corsair (if you ever get the chance, fly with them!) We kept looking at each other in amazement at how smoothly our departure had gone, and how wonderful it felt to be free of that whole situation!

France



That put us about 10 days ahead of our plan, so we ended up exploring Paris for a week on the way home. This had been my plan all along - though a week later - but Dad was just going to go home. It was so much fun to be able to show Dad around my former stomping grounds! He has never been a huge fan of France, but he genuinely enjoyed this trip, which was particularly satisfying :)


     

We rented a car, checked out the LDS temple construction site in Versailles, spent a day at Disneyland Paris, got to see so many of my beloved friends from both my work at Disney and my mission years, and just enjoyed being free to go and do and eat wherever and whatever we wanted!

     

We were able to connect with local people and enjoy the local experience in a whole new way. We also managed to get our return flights sorted out, with reliable internet and a phone. Yay!

Most importantly, we drove up to Vimy Ridge to see the Canadian First World War memorial, and tour the area where Dad's grandfather fought and survived. That experience is a part of our family legacy and who we are. Visiting that sacred ground with my dad was both humbling and inspiring! All of our time in France was simply lovely :)



But here's the best part!

Although it was frustrating and confusing, somehow that whole experience taught me exactly what I needed to kick-start the change I needed in my life, and help me make some decisions about what I really want and need for my future.

1. I need to teach. Translating and teaching French to the BYUH students were among the best experiences I had in Africa. I loved finding ways to help them understand the new language and information. I loved the challenge of translating instructions for my dad to the local people. It was amazing to see their eyes light up with understanding.

2. On that note, I want to use my language skills. I love connecting with people in their own language. Even a limited understanding of foreign language can tear down barriers and divisions to enlarge understanding and build bonds. I have spent a lot of time learning and developing language skills in French and Spanish and I need to make more effort to keep and improve those skills.

3. I don't ever want to work for a controlling, demeaning dictator of a boss, or put up with anyone who punishes me for trying to be my best. So I want to find something fulfilling that I can do for work while maintaining my freedom and independence.

4. I can do good wherever I am. I don't have to fly across the world or put up with mistreatment while fixing problems in Africa to prove I have good to offer the world. I can add to goodness to any place that I live! And I will! I will continually strive to improve myself so that I can serve and be of greater use wherever I happen to be.

In addition to these lessons and the amazing clarity I gained through the challenges of Africa, my confidence was boosted and rebuilt through the joys of France on the way home. So many of these wonderful people that I hadn't seen in years had such kind and complimentary things to say about me when meeting my dad, and I feel so humbled to have left such an impact on the very people who had taught me so much. Such an amazing blessing!!















The clarity and confidence were just the combination I needed to start making some different decisions for my life. I don't know that I had to trek across the world to figure this out, but I am so very grateful for the little bits of inspiration that showed up to me along the way of this grand adventure!

Canada

Upon my return, things started rolling quickly - in a whole new direction. Moving to Calgary no longer felt right at all. I began to recognize that, in a way, that plan was like giving up on the real me and what fulfills and impassions me, to do what is expected or what I "should" do at this point in my life - settle into a stable job and life and hope to find a husband.

Ugh.

Of course there was no one specific telling me this, but it somehow I had felt that pressure. And I know there is nothing at all wrong with that path; it is okay and even ideal for a lot of great people. However, I realized that I would not last long in that situation. I would be fine of course. I would survive, but maybe not thrive... And as long as it is just me in this awesome life, I want to thrive! And when I am thriving and happy, I can give and serve so much more!

So, after our extended layover in Montreal I determined to try moving out there. I could use my French daily and maybe get back into teaching. I had been waiting on my Alberta teaching certification, and realized that although I had enough French credits to teach high school in Canada, my master’s program didn't give me ESL teaching credentials outside of Utah. And wasn't likely to find work teaching French in a city full of native speakers. So I determined to find the most internationally-recognized English teaching certification.

Before long I found the CELTA course through Cambridge English. As an international program, it is offered by institutions around the world, so I could have taken it just about anywhere. Then my ultra-pragmatic dad suggested, “If you can go anywhere, why not go somewhere fun?"

Yeah why not?!

Thus the scheming began! I looked into places I love that I would want to spend more time, like New York or Florida. I considered moving early to Montreal and taking it there. Then I started thinking about the places I hadn't been...

I then spent the next month or so working on renovation projects to top up my savings to pay for the course and ensuing adventures, all the while saying my goodbyes and packing up my life. I also finally received reimbursement for treatments from a car accident last year, so that definitely helped with the upcoming expenses! I was busy, but so productive and happy - it was awesome! I had found purpose again! Although physically exhausting, it was probably one of the happiest times I have spent in my home town. The pieces all started coming together!

Australia

I have always wanted to go to Australia - like for as long as I can remember. And I didn't want it to be just a vacation, because it is so expensive and intense just to get over there. It also happened that have a dear friend and former mission companion living with her husband and kids in the state of Victoria, and I had wanted to visit sometime before they came back to the US. With that in mind, and inspired by my dad, I searched for CELTA courses in Victoria. I found an intensive one-month course in Melbourne - the nearest major city - and the course became my excuse to go live my Australian dream!

Once I made the decision to go, I prayed so hard to find a good place to live where I could feel comfortable and have what I needed, without having to spend a ton on rent. Miraculously, I found this amazing place on Airbnb, below my budget and in an awesome neighbourhood close to everything I needed. Everything fell beautifully into place, and in mid-September, a few days before my course began, I took the massive flight to the southern hemisphere.

My friend Jill had helped me prepare for the trip and was my first contact once I arrived. After a few days of settling into my new home and working through the jet lag, we spent a lovely girls' weekend meeting the local critters on Phillip Island. Penguins! In real life!!





Sunday I attended church in one of the friendliest wards ever, and Monday I ventured out to my first day of class.

My classmates were fascinating, and I found instant friends that I would have never predicted. Through our lessons and discussions, I felt over and over how much I was in the right place at the right moment. Especially when facilitating a class! I felt so at home with those students from everywhere, with their at-once heartbreaking and inspiring stories.





Everything came together perfectly during my stay, from the course to my hilarious and interesting classmates to warm church experiences to the perfect housing situation. Not to mention that my housemate for the month was among the kindest people I have ever known, and is now a dear friend. It was like I had been perfectly guided to Melbourne. I loved it all! There is so much history and culture, with great food and lots to see and do. It felt very European but with all the right North American twists to make me feel right at home.



After so much fell apart over the previous months, I cannot tell you how humble and grateful I felt for every day in that place!! I found so much peace and felt so many simple joys flooding back into my life as I met fascinating new people and wandered the streets of that city. It felt like getting to know myself again - and yet I also became more confident than I had ever been - in a calm, content way. I found myself walking home at night with a huge smile on my face over the smallest things! I would sit in church reflecting on all the amazing goodness in my life and feel this beautiful sense of peace and joy fill my heart. I felt like I was finding my soul again and it was being filled to the brim with blessings!! And it still blows my mind that the entire thing from first idea to stepping on the plane happened in just 6 weeks. A-MAZ-ING.

The ensuing travels and adventures only added to the wonderful things I am still learning about myself, and I'll tell more about that another day. The personal journey I took over theses precious, amazing, unexpected months was more than I could have hoped for and exactly what I needed. Who knew that it would take so many failed attempts to stop fighting for my logical plan, and give in and let God lead me?

So that's the story! Nothing at all like what I was planning for my life! Clearly, the Lord has other plans for me... And I am certainly not complaining :)

There are more awesome things in the works, but all that will come in good time. I certainly have learned a lot about patience this year! And I am so grateful for it! I have learned to just step back, enjoy and make the most of the moments and places I am in. And I have gained a whole new appreciation for the carefully crafted plan my Father in Heaven has for me. It was not always be easy, but life in His hands is filled with love, light, joy and adventure. We just have to trust His guidance through the winding roads and storms along the way ;)