Columbine: 22 Years Later

 I almost didn't write anything this year.

In fact, I still don't know what I'm going to say. But I know I would eventually look back and wonder why I didn't. I'd wish that I had. Even if I don't have anything remarkable to memorable to say- I would want to know what I felt and thought on year 22.

And to be honest, I don't feel any different than I have the past few years. If anything- I feel less because I'm almost numb to it in a way.

With so many school shootings and mass shootings I have to block them out and I have to compartmentalize what I think about and what I feel as my own defense mechanism. To protect myself. To protect my mental health and my heart. 

So I push thoughts away. 

And I don't read the news. And while I am triggered by other events I can't indulge in the details because I haven't figured out how to not connect them with my own experience and I feel like I'm reliving it over and over.

But I have this internal struggle where I feel guilt for how I feel- or don't feel. Am I mourning enough? Am I sad enough? Have I learned enough? Am I advocating loud enough? Am I sharing enough?

But I'm so tired of doing all that, too. It's hard to always come up with something to say. And I do it when I can and when I feel pulled to do so but when I don't- am I just ignoring what  I've been through? So it's an internal struggle to say the least.

And again, I'm tired of all the hurt and pain that others are now experiencing. It's almost as if I take on some of their pain- all new and fresh- every time another shooting happens. I feel their terror and sadness and remember how those first days, weeks and years even can be so immobilizing. And it takes me back.

But the thought that keeps coming to mind is when I look at my little crew. How they are also part of my story because they a part of me and how they are survivors by association and they are here- because so am I. 

Columbine stole a lot from me. But it didn't steal my future and the joy and happiness my family brings me.

Between my sister who was at Columbine that day also we have 9 children. There's probably hundreds if not thousands of children- grandchildren even- born to Columbine Survivors. Their parents and grandparents are part of history in a way none of us wanted to be. But we are. And it's amazing how many lives have come into this world from survivors since April 20, 1999. And they are part of story and I hope my own kids can learn some of the things through me that I had to learn the hard way.

And even though it is so hard to navigate PTSD and trauma and the hurt and the loss of so much- I feel like I owe it to those who are not here- to keep sharing and to keep feeling and to keep healing. Because it's not just for me.

How Jones and Holland Got Their Names

 Jones Freeborn and Holland Alice are names that are full of sentimental meaning.

Picking our children's names has been an honor that we haven't taken lightly.

We put a lot of thought and heart into each name. We have always used family names for their middle names.

Lyla Delcie-- after my Grandma Delcie Barker

Phoebe Anne- after me, Cynthia Anne and my mom Babzanne

Ivy Patience- after her Great-Grandma Patience Maudsley

When we found out we were having twins- more specifically- when we got some genetic testing done telling us that at least one of the babies had male DNA- we knew right away what boy name we would for sure use.

We've always had our boy names- since before we knew if Lyla was a girl or boy. 

Jones.

That has always been our boy name the we dibbed and thankfully we both still loved it so that was easy.

Jones is AJ's grandma's maiden name.

If we had two boys the other boy name would have most likely been Porter Eugene (Eugene after his great-grandpa's- Frank Eugene and Cecil Eugene- on both mine and AJ's side)

We didn't decide on Jones' middle name until he was born. I always wanted it to be "Kelly" after AJ's dad and for a while AJ agreed, but over time he started to feel differently.

Freeborn is a family name on the Maudsley side and AJ just really thought it was a super cool, strong name that sounded great with Jones.

I really wanted it to be Kelly but I decided that if it meant that much to him- I would agree with Freeborn and it has really started to grow on me and I think it is perfect.

Holland's name didn't come to us right away.

Up until about three weeks before they were born our top choices for her name were:

Winnie

Birdie

Penny

Hattie

Nellie

Penelope

Goldie

Pearl

I guess we have a thing for old lady names that end in "ie". I really liked Birdie for most of my pregnancy and AJ leaned toward Winnie. However, we both liked all the names on our list.

A few months before they were born I started to not be as in love with our name choices as much. Nothing felt right. I wasn't getting the same confirmation as I had with the other girls that we were choosing the right name.

I wanted a name that the moment I heard it I would know that was it. And while I liked all our choices- nothing felt like the one and the more I thought about them the less I was starting to like them.

I even said a prayer one day that we would think of a name that would be perfect for her- a new name that we hand't thought of it before.  

In early October we watched General Conference.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland had just given his talk and we were in the kitchen when AJ said "What about Holland?"

At first I kind of laughed and asked him if he was suggesting it because of Elder Holland and he said it was.

For about two minutes I wasn't on board but then I could not stop thinking about it. 

I loved it!

The more I thought about it the more I loved it. When I couldn't sleep at night I would day dream about naming her Holland.

We decided that we weren't going to share this name with anyone. Not even the girls. We kept it to ourselves as not to be swayed by anyone's opinion and to make sure we really liked it.

We were pretty sure her name would be Holland but we didn't decide until she was born.

We wanted to honor AJ's dad in some way and that's when AJ thought of the name Alice. After Alice Springs which was an area Kelly served on his LDS Mission. Kelly always referred back to his mission as it made a big impact on his life. He loved Australia and as soon as AJ mentioned it I felt like it was the perfect way to incorporate Kelly into her name.

After the twins were born we had a few cool things happen that really solidify to us that Holland was supposed to be her name.

We had just delivered the twins and were brought back to my labor and delivery room. We couldn't' be with the babies because my Covid test hadn't come back. That's when I noticed the white board in our room. They always write the names of the nurses and CNAs who will be taking care of you on the board and one of their names was Holland.

It confused me because I thought maybe we had told one of the nurses that we were going to name her Holland and that's why they wrote it- but nope- our CNA was named Holland. Which to be honest isn't super common and I had never met someone named Holland before- so it seemed a little more than coincidental.

We both couldn't believe it and for lack of better words we felt like it was  "sign" that Holland was the right choice.

Later that day one of the SCN nurses mentioned she has served her LDS mission in Holland- another subtle "sign" that we had chosen the right name.

And then a few days later- a friend of mine text me and told me that Elder Holland's mother's name was Alice. Making her Alice Holland.

This to me was another "sign" that we had not only chosen  the perfect first name- but that Alice was what her middle name was supposed to be, too.

Six weeks in and their names already seem to suit them so well.

I love naming our babies and I love that they all have a special story of how they were named.

How Ivy Got Her Name

How Phoebe Got Her Name

How Lyla Got Her Name

The Day Jones and Holland Were Born

 Jones Freeborn and Holland Alice were born on October 29, 2020 at 5:37 AM (Jones) and 5:53 AM (Holland) Jones weighed 4 lbs. 8 oz and Holland, born breech, weighed 4 lbs. 6 oz.

They were born at 34 weeks and 6 days and I was planning on being induced on November 17th at 37 weeks 4 days.

But let's go back to the beginning.

I went into spontaneous labor with the twins on  Wednesday, October 28th. Looking back, I think my body was telling me the end was near because I was SO uncomfortable. To the point where I literally could not walk anymore unless I really had to. It hurt in my groin every time time I moved or sat for too long, and nearly anytime I moved around or walked or bent over I would have a contraction. And those contractions were tight and painful.

I was pretty miserable and really couldn't hide it anymore. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't walk, I couldn't stand for too long - all a distant memory now- but in the moment  it was really hard and I didn't think I could go on much longer.

My last pregnancy picture at my 34 week appointment the day before I went into labor:

Back to Wednesday. 

It was like the previous few days- nothing out of the ordinary. During Ivy's  nap I sat up in my bed and did my work that I do for Katie on my laptop. During that time I "kinda" noticed I was having a lot of contractions but they weren't too painful and after going to L&D twice before to monitor contractions I assumed they were just braxton hicks that weren't doing anything- so I ignored it.

But then I decided to start timing them because they seemed to be coming on pretty frequently. So eventually Ivy woke up and we laid in my bed and watched Daniel Tiger while I timed my contractions. For a couple hours they were about 3-5 minutes apart. The app I used alerted me to "go to the hospital" about four times but I asked AJ to bring me a drink of water and I just kept timing them- thinking it wasn't really labor because this had happened before.

Well, around 4:30 I started to feel them come on a little stronger and they hurt a little more than usual. 

That night we were supposed to go out on a triple date with some friends and I started to wonder if I should go or not. The thought of moving to even get ready (that day I felt so awful I didn't do my make up or wear contacts- figuring I'd do it right before we left for dinner) seemed too overwhelming. And I realized that there was really no way I could sit through dinner while having these contractions.

So I told AJ just to go without me, I'd stay home with the kids and he could go and have a night out. Of course, he told me he wasn't going to do that but I really would have been fine. At this point I didn't think it was labor. However, I was starting to cry because the contractions hurt.

AJ convinced me to go to the hospital- just to get monitored and to make sure it wasn't real labor. Even the girls were telling me to go. They were so sweet and reminding me that I had to do it for the babies and make sure everything was okay.

So reluctantly I decided to go - once again- to the hospital for what I was convinced would be a few hours of monitoring and then be sent home.

I told AJ to just drop me off (that's how sure I was this wasn't happening) and I'd call him when I was done. We thought he also needed to pick up our nieces and nephew for a couple hours so his  plan was to drop me off and then pick up the cousins and wait to hear more from me.

So they drove me into SLC, dropped me off at the curb and I waddled on up to the fourth floor to Labor and Delivery.

I felt kind of silly and embarrassed as I checked in at the front desk. 

I told them I was almost 35 weeks and having contractions, that I was sure it wasn't a big deal, but thought I should get checked out. While standing there I had a contraction and I didn't even mean to but it made me emotional and I started to cry a little. Before that they were determining if I should get a "big" room or just a smaller, monitoring room but after that they hurried me in to an actual laboring room. 

So I did the drill- got in a gown, put my clothes in their white laundry bag, got hooked up to monitors and waited.

They quickly came in to asses me and determined I was dilated to a 1.5-2 which was up from the barely 1 cm I had been dilated to 3 weeks prior. I started to think that maybe this was real.

At this point it was about 5:30 PM.

The nurse, Chauncey was really great and attentive- always coming in with updates and checking on me. I had to leave a urine sample, get an IV and they started me on a pill to slow contractions down as well as a shot.

The IV was traumatizing. They poked me six times and had three different nurses come in to try before they got it in. It was determined from my urine sample that I was severely dehydrated which definitely didn't help. But they also started me on  IV fluid.

So for a couple hours they just watched me and the contractions started to get stronger. To the point where when talking to my nurse I told her if I could- I would be ready for my epidural and she agreed. So they checked me again and I was at a four. At that point I text AJ and told him to come just in case I stayed.

I had him bring my hospital bag and the diaper bag but was still in denial- telling him- just in case.

He headed to the hospital and our neighbor came over to be with the girls. I think this was around 8 PM. We still didn't ask his mom to come up because I really didn't know how serious this was getting.

I felt so much better when AJ finally walked in the room. I was so exhausted and scared and hurting and it felt much better to have him by my side.

This was when they did a Covid test on me. It sucked and I was a little scared for it to be honest. It didn't hurt it just was painful and made my eyes water. They also decided that I could get an epidural because I was already at a four and they told me then that I would most likely be having these babies.

But- they still wanted to try and stop the contractions so they were going to wait and see if the medicine and shot they gave me did anything. They also gave me a shot to help the babies with their lungs at this point.

Our anesthesiologist was Dr. Seymour- who I was pretty sure the same anesthesiologist from my C-Section with Phoebe (looking back on our blog- yes it was him and I wrote three paragraphs about home much I loved him!) and he was awesome!

He was so friendly and nice and knowledgeable and had amazing bedside manner.

However, this is where things got a little scary.

He had me sit up and put my head down while he administered it. Everything was fine but all of a sudden I felt my foot go numb pretty quickly. I told them and almost right away I started to feel really light headed. To the point where I couldn't even sit up any more and I could tell I was a little out of it.

So they had me lay down because he realized he had to redo the epidural. Apparently, my spine is short- or something like that- so when he put the needle in it went in further than he anticipated which made me get the epidural too fast too soon.

Laying down didn't help and I felt so sick. They checked my blood pressure and it was super low. Looking back, I definitely felt like I was not all there and I can tell how having low blood pressure can affect someone.

 I felt nauseous so they gave me a bag that AJ held for me as I threw up a few times. Several nurses rushed into the room as they tried to get my blood pressure back up.

They mentioned that the babies heart rates were good but their oxygen was going down because of my blood pressure so things were looking a little worrisome. Dr. Seymour kept his cool and stayed by me the entire time trying to adjust the epidural and finally they got me stabilized.

I asked AJ later if it was scary and he admitted that it was and he agreed that they were probably just minutes away from rushing me into an emergency c-section.

I'm so grateful I was able to pull out of that. Right before that AJ had given me a Priesthood blessing. He was able to anoint my head with consecrated oil and because of Covid- no-one else was allowed to assist but he was able to anoint and bless me and I'm so grateful that he was able to do that before all the scary stuff happened.

So after that things slowed down a little. I had my epidural and felt so much better. We had AJ's mom come up from American Fork and while we waited for her to get there we had two different friends switch off staying at the house with the girls which was so nice and we are so grateful for.

They checked me again and I was still at a four. My doctor came in and agreed I'd probably have the babies but there was a chance they would send me home if I stopped dilating.

Um. What? 

Hearing that about sent me into a panic. The thought of leaving really made me have some anxiety and that's all I could think about. To the point where I couldn't sleep, I couldn't think about anything other than if they decided to send me home.

A few more hours passed and it was the middle of the night. I was still afraid they'd determined that I stopped dilating and I was having trouble sleeping because I was so focused on the contractions, trying to feel them, making sure they were still happening.

The nurse came in an checked me (can't remember what time) and she said I was about a 7 and that's when I calmed down because I had progressed and this was actually happening.

My doctor had told us that she had a hysterectomy she was doing around 10 AM so if I hadn't delivered by then someone else would have to do it for me and that made me so sad. I really wanted my doctor to be there for the delivery.

Because it was super early in the morning and I was a 7 I felt better thinking she'd be able to make it.

A little before 5 AM they checked me again and the nurse said she could feel my water and that I was at  ten. "You're a 10! It's time to have these babies!" the nurse said (or something like that) which made AJ jump right up from off the couch\bed and we were suddenly super awake and ready to go.

At this point I could feel the pressure from my water bag with every contraction and I was terrified it was going to burst and that Baby A would just come flying out. 

They said Dr. Hansen was on her way but it felt like SO long.

I asked how far she lived and they said about 15 minutes but I was starting to feel more pressure and pain with every contraction so I was a little impatient- wanting her to get there right then.

While we waited for her to get there they started getting things ready for delivery. They deliver twins in the operating room in case of an emergency so AJ got into the white scrubs. Finally Dr. Hansen got there and they wheeled me in to the OR. I hate that feeling of not being able to feel my legs or anything especially as they lift  me onto the bed. It is so weird! As soon as they got situated things moved quickly.

Dr. Seymour was back and was behind my head and AJ was right by my side, too.

Dr. Hansen asked if I wanted to push almost right away and it seemed so surreal to once again be having more babies. It seemed like we had JUST done this with Ivy.

But the pressure was so great that all I wanted was for my water to break and get some relief. So Dr. Hansen broke my water and with the next contraction I began to push.

 Three short pushes later little Jones made his entrance into the world at 5:37 AM.

He was crying so loud and so strong  and it was amazing! They had him on my belly for a few minutes while they wiped him down and then he had to go straight to the Special Care Nursery.

Next up Baby B.

Most of the pregnancy she had been breach or transverse. The day before at my 34 week appointment she had flipped to head down right after my appointment with MFM.

After Jones was born she had so much more room that she kind squirmed around again. Dr. Hansen then reach up and grabbed her feet to pull her out breech- which I knew was a possibility and actually a better, easier plan than delivery the second baby head down.

Because my water hadn't broken for her yet Dr. H had to wait for it to break before she delivered Baby B. This took several minutes and the entire time Dr. H. was holding onto Holland's little feet for dear life.

Finally my water broke and then with a couple little pushes from me out came Holland, feet first at 5:53 AM

She didn't cry right away which really worried me. But the nurses told me that could hear her breathing but I still kept asking if she was okay. Finally, after a couple minutes she let out her own little scream and they whisked her off to the nursery as well while the doctor finished up with me.

Dr. Seymour was so nice he took my phone back to the nursery to take pictures since AJ couldn't go back until my Covid test results came back.

Laying on the operating table it felt so weird to not have my babies in me or with me. I could hardly wait to be with them but it would be several hours until that would happen. 

They had to wait for my covid test to come back and it took forever. I was super bugged about that but in the meantime they got me to recovery, we ordered breakfast

 and finally we got to go back and see them after they determined my covid test was negative.

It was crazy being rolled into the nursery to see our TWO babies. They were still working on them, doing test, getting IVs in them, poking them, etc. but all things considered they were healthy.

It would be a couple hours more until we could hold them. It was so hard to wait. 

Everything about this pregnancy was hard. I didn't handle it gracefully all the time. I cried a lot and was so miserable but what kept me sane was day dreaming about the day these two were born.

We love our Jones and Holland with all our hearts. It pains us that they are still in the Special Care Nursery.

 The big girls are heartbroken that they can't meet their siblings. My heart feels torn in two that I can't have all our babies together right now. It feels wrong and weird to have just have had twins and to not have my babies with me right now and only getting to see them when we are able to go to the hospital.

But even through the meltdowns and hormones and hard moments we know that they are where they need to be to help them get strong enough to come home. Hopefully soon!

I still can't believe we have twins! 

What a crazy, hard, beautiful past 8 months this has been. What miracles ALL our kids are. They each have their own amazing story of how they joined our family and for that we are so blessed and feel so honored toto be their parents.

We cannot wait to have all five kiddos under one roof and start the rest of our lives together.

21 Years After Columbine

Today marks 21 years since the shootings at Columbine.

Last year the days, weeks and months leading up to the remembrance was especially emotional and taxing. It really consumed so much of my thoughts day to day.

With so many big anniversaries- the days leading up to it are often the hardest and I found that to be true last year.

There was so much anticipation on the big 20 year anniversary that I had no idea how I would feel or react. We were lucky enough to be able to be in Colorado for the 20th last year.

I was able to see old friends, walk the halls of the school and attend several emotional yet uplifting memorials. It was even more healing for me than I imagined.

I felt so much pride for my school, my classmates and how far we've come.

And those feelings still ring true today.

With the current worldwide covid-19 pandemic I've been somewhat surprised at the emotions it has triggered.

The biggest one being the way school abruptly stopped for my kids.

In school one day- no school the next.

Although completely different circumstances it still stirred old memories of all those years ago when school stopped and everything changed.

I had to go to my girl's school to check out school work, and gather some of their things.

As I walked to mostly deserted hallways I felt a familiar eeriness that reminded me of that time months after April 20th that we were finally allowed back in the school to gather our things.

It felt eery and sad and depressing then.

And while picking up my girl's stuff from their quiet school, on a rigid schedule sorted by last names, passing through the hallways noticing things left exactly how the children left them when they left school- no knowing it would be there last- I felt  some of those same feelings that took over out of the blue.

I hadn't even thought about the connection but somehow my mind and body reacted without much prompting from me.

There have been other things that have triggered some emotions related to Columbine through this pandemic.

Life just feels "off" and while my life is filled with much more joy and happiness right now than it did 21 years ago at this time- there are some familiar feelings of feeling isolated, fearing the unknown and being uncertain about life.

That being said I'm at good place in my healing right now.

I've accepted that the trauma I experienced will always be a part of me and I will always have triggers and feelings and memories that come to the surface. And that's okay. It's part of who I am and as long as I don't let it consume me or take over or lead me down a dark place then I know it's just one more part of the puzzle in my healing.

21 years later I still have frequent recurring nightmares about being shot at, hiding from gunmen and experiencing another shooting.

21 years later I still find myself reflecting and pondering my experiences often thinking about it out of the blue.

21 years later I still will randomly  google Columbine and look up all the things. I still find myself fascinated that this huge part of history is so closely intertwined in my life.

21 years later I am triggered by the news of other school shootings or mass shootings and I cannot read much about them. Reading the stories of the survivors is especially hard and something I just can't do as it takes me back to "that place" too easily.

21 years later I am still constantly aware of my surroundings when I go in public. I always come up with a hiding spot or get away plan. I think in my head how I would protect myself and my children and hope that I am quick enough to stay safe.

21 years later I regularly say several prayers in my mind as I walk through stores, sit in a movie or at a restaurant and pray over and over that no one comes in and starts to shoot.

Those are the  harsh realities of living with PTSD and trauma.

But also 21 years later I have the ability to recognize the miracles in my every day life because of what I've been through.

21 years later I have empathy and compassion for those going through something similar.

21 years later I continue to share my story in hopes of inspiring others.

21 years later I know that there is more good in the world than bad.

21 years later I have found forgiveness and learn more and more each year what that means to me.

21 years later I am living a life filled with joy and happiness and even though I still experience sadness and heartache and trials I know that whatever I'm going through is just refining me and I will learn something from it and become greater for it.

21 years later I am content with my healing. I'm grateful for how far I've come and I don't feel guilty for the times I take steps back.

20 Years Later

To read my thoughts on the past 10 anniversaries scroll to the bottom of the link above

20 Years Later: How I Told My Kids About Columbine

Because I was only 15  when the tragedy at Columbine happened I didn't think about the possibility of telling my future children about my experience.

Once I became a mother I realized that I would need to tell my children my story- that they would need to know this part of my life.

To be honest, I put it off for as long as I could. I shielded them from it. I didn't want them to be scared. I didn't want them to be afraid to go to school and I didn't want to shatter their innocence. 

I never talked about other school shootings in front of them and I did what I could- to not talk about Columbine around them.

For years I thought about how or when I would go about doing this. I had conversations over and over in my head on how it would go.

I imagined it being a special moment- hopefully when they were much older.

However,  the time came where I needed to talk about it with them. 

I didn't exactly plan it that way- but it just happened naturally.

It was right before the 19 year remembrance ( I like that word better than anniversary) and shortly after the shooting in Parkland, Florida.

A friend of  mine who works at our local newspaper reached out to me and asked if I would be willing to be interviewed for the Desert News on an article they were working on focusing on survivors of school violence. 

I agreed to be interviewed. The journalist then told me they wanted to send a photographer to my home to take some pictures with me and my girls. 

It was then that I knew I needed to explain to them what happened.

They were eight and six. 

When I was that age I didn't even think about school shootings. We never had lock down drills (which their school practices regularly) and the only "scary" thing about school was having a fire drill or an earth quake drill.

But I felt that the time was right to talk to them about Columbine.

I knew I wouldn't go into great detail. I  wanted to explain it to them on their level and in a way that their little minds could comprehend.

I remember sitting them down and telling them that we were going to get our picture taken for the newspaper. I told them that someone wrote a story about me and what happened to me when I was in high school.

Then I asked them about their lock down drills at school. I asked them why they do them and how it makes them feel.

They told me it's in case "bad" people come into the school. That they'll know what to do and how to wait for the police to help them be safe.

I was nervous then knowing what I needed to tell them.

So very matter of factly, I told them that when I was 15 something happened at my school.

I told them that two boys made a very bad decision and decided to hurt kids at my school using guns.

I told them that I was at school, and their Aunt Diana was, too.

I remember them sitting very still and very quietly as they processed this.

I told them that I was able to get out of the school and that I was okay.

Again, their eyes were so wide and they huddled in closer to me. Lyla began to cry and then Phoebe did.

I held them and cried, too. 

They told me that they never wanted to go to school again. That they didn't want that to happen to them.

It broke my heart.

I reassured them that they are safe at school and that they don't need to be afraid. I told them that I pray for their safety every day and that they can feel happy at school.

We talked about how using guns to hurt people is not the answer. That the boys made a really bad choice.

I didn't want to tell them that people died or that the boys killed themselves. But they asked. So I answered them.

They asked if anyone died.

Yes, some kids died I told them.

They asked what happened to the boys.

I told them that they shot themselves and died, too. 

My girls were so quiet. Still weeping a little as we hugged.

And then, "I'm so glad you didn't die mom". 

To this day, out of no-where they will tell me how they are glad I didn't die. It is the saddest thing- yet such a tender thing for little girls to be telling their mom.

There were more tears as we sat together and they processed it. 

Thankfully, by the next day they were no longer saying they were scared to go to school. I find that to be a huge blessing. They love going to school. They thrive and are happy at school.

And sending them to school is a huge step for me, too.

I have to push away the worries I have- as best I can- in order to send them to school each day. I can't dwell on it or it would consume me.

But there are things that bring me back to that place.

Whenever I hear an ambulance siren in the distance during the day I brace myself.

 I wonder for a second if it is heading to their school. I say a prayer that it's not.

I volunteer at school so much because I love being in the class. I love meeting their friends and getting to know their teachers.

But another reason is because it calms me. 

If I'm there enough, then perhaps I'd end up being at the school  if something were to happen. It makes me feel better to know they wouldn't have to go through it alone. I'd rather be there than anywhere else in that case.

It has been a year since I told them a small part of my story ( they don't know very much specifically) and they still bring it up. 

They loved being on the cover of the newspaper! I'm glad they are able to focus on that.

I know as they get older I'll tell them more. And one day, I'll have to tell Ivy about, too.

The part I hope they remember and what they'll take away from it is that our choices matter. It matters how we react and how we choose to do things. That if we are sad or struggling we need to talk to someone. I hope they'll know that there is still good in the world. That people are good. That bad things happen but we still have to live our life and do it not in fear.

And I  hope by having their mom be a Columbine Survivor they can be strong and brave, too.

Listen to the interview I did for the Mint Arrow podcast here

19 years

18 years

17 years

16 years

15 years part one
     part two
     part three

14 years

13 years

12 years

11 years

10 years part one
    part  two

9 years

How Ivy Got Her Name

It was a labor of love deciding Ivy's name.

I'll start from the beginning.

Ivy was on our list of names when I was pregnant with Phoebe. It was never one really considered but it made the list because we both agreed on it.

Fast forward to me being about 20 weeks pregnant with Ivy and we were about to find out what gender she was going to be.

We already have our boy name picked out, so in case she was a girl, we were talking about girl names a lot. Ivy came up again and I was on the fence about it. I liked it, but wasn't sold on it becoming a name I would really pull for.

Shortly after finding out that she was a girl I had a pretty cool experience.

The same day we had our 20 week ultrasound I was later driving down the road when all of a sudden the thought "Ivy Patience" came to my mind so clearly.

I think I even pulled over and text AJ right away. I'm pretty sure I text him to tell him that I really wanted our baby's middle name to be Patience.

 That thought sealed the deal and he also agreed.

We love our kid's middle names to be after a relative.

 Lyla's middle name (Delcie) is after my grandma, and Phoebe's middle name (Anne) is after my middle name and  my mom- so we knew we wanted to name this baby after someone we loved as well.

Patience is AJ's grandma's first name and it felt so perfect for our little miracle that we waited 7 years for.

A quote I've loved from Dieter F. Uchtdorf also has to do with patience. I have it printed out and displayed on our fridge.

“Patience is not passive resignation, nor is it failing to act because of our fears. Patience means active waiting and enduring. It means staying with something and doing all that we can - working, hoping, and exercising faith; bearing hardship with fortitude, even when the desires of our hearts are delayed. patience is not simply enduring; it is enduring well!

Throughout the rest of the pregnancy I had a couple dreams where we named the baby Ivy Patience. I knew it didn't mean that we would for sure name her that, but I kind of think it had some meaning!

We also threw around a few other names that we all liked:

Hattie or Nellie

We also liked the names Penelope, Pearl, Francie but didn't really like having two kids with "P" names or the same sound as "Ph". I know, not a big deal to everyone, but we are apparently really picky about our names!

We liked the names Nora and Violet but they've both gotten a little too popular over the years so we quickly passed them over (both were top names for me when naming Lyla and Phoebe).

After she was born we took about two days to name her. 

I was still pretty set on Ivy but was open to Hattie or Nellie. The girls pretty much liked all three of our top names.

It came down to me telling AJ to just decide because he was the one who wasn't totally sure and was putting the most thought into it. But we all had fun writing names on the board.

We even looked through a baby book name a nurse brought in and AJ started looking up names from his family tree.

At one point he wrote Ivy on the board in my room as her name, but then he erased it because he wasn't ready to commit.

But, when it came down to it, we decided Ivy Patience sounded the best and we both wanted it for our baby girl.

Once we decided it felt right and we knew it was the name for her.

Last minute contenders at the hospital:

Birdie, Bertie, Fancy, Evelyn

Vetoed names: 

Isabeau,  Lizzy, Agnus 

The Day Ivy Patience Was Born

Our little miracle, Ivy Patience, was born on January 18th at 10:04 a.m and became our biggest baby weighing in at 6 lbs. 15 oz. She was 20 inches long and was born with a head full of hair- one day after her due date.

On January 16th AJ and I went in for my 40 week appointment with Dr. Hansen (who we love so much- after Dr. Gemmell retired I was worried I wouldn't find a doctor I felt good about- but Dr. Hansen exceeded all expectations!) and after discussing a few things she mentioned that we could go in to be induced the next evening- January 17th.

Because I was attempting a VBAC we had talked extensively- from the start-  with Dr. Hansen about the pros and cons of inducing.

 After having a c-section it can potentially be  more risky to be induced  because of the risk of uterine rupture.

Ideally, we had hoped that I would go into labor naturally. Lyla was two days before her due date so I was hoping that would happen with Ivy. Although I have had two births already, my doctor told me that after about six or seven years- your body resets and if you have a baby with such a big gap- your body can react as if it is your first birth. Meaning- sometimes the more babies you have the quicker your labor and your body remembers more how to go into labor- but I was basically starting at square one.

In the week and a half prior to my due date my doctor ended up stripping my membranes twice hoping to start contractions. I did feel more contractions but nothing consistent and nothing that started labor. So from about 39 weeks on I was basically waiting with every breath to go into labor.

So, going in to my 40 week appointment to find out that the next night we would be able to go in to be induced was such a relief! My doctor would be on-call and at the hospital that night (Thursday) and then all day Friday meaning she would be there to deliver. Our other option was waiting until Monday evening.

But when given the choice of having her the next day or waiting the weekend- we quickly opted for sooner! 

By this point I was very ready to meet our baby. She was moving around so much and that was reassuring but I wanted nothing more than to have her earth side and in my arms safe and sound.

Wednesday night the hospital called  to tell me that the next night I needed to call them at 7:15 p.m. to find out what time to go in to Labor and Delivery. It was getting more real by the second!

Thursday came and I felt like I was in a dream all day. I knew that evening we would be going in to be induced but it didn't feel real. After wanting this for so long it was finally here and I still couldn't believe it!

I spent the day relaxing at home, finishing laundry, cleaning up, and just soaking in the last day of just being "me" at home while the girls were in school. It actually went by fairly fast.

That night we had our friend, Luke, come over to assist AJ in giving me a Priesthood blessing. It was very comforting and special and there was a sweet spirit in our home.

After that Barbara came to our house because she would be staying the night with the girls.

We had a dinner of homemade nachos and then played what felt like a million games of UNO (the girls and I had been playing this game constantly over the past few days because it was easy for me to lie the couch but still play and give them attention while I was feeling very pregnant and uncomfortable) together.

This was around 5:30 and the hours kind of dragged on.

Finally, it got closer to 7:15 and I called L&D right on the dot. 

They told me to call back at 8:15.

It was torture!

We got the girls showered, and ready for bed and that killed some time and finally it was time to call again.

This time they told me to be there by 9:30.  I felt like I was just going through the motions at this point- I still couldn't believe this was happening for us.

We said goodnight to the girls, grabbed our bags  and headed to the hospital. We both couldn't believe what we were about to do. Again, it felt so surreal.

Parking, walking up to the hospital, going to the 4th floor and checking in at the desk was so exciting.

My birth with Phoebe was different, we didn't experience a lot of the "normal" things people do when going into have their baby. While I love her birth story and how it happened- it was fun to get to experience a more relaxed, easy way of going to the hospital.

It was really quiet and calm and dark when we got to the 4th floor. They were expecting us so we went right into a room and given instructions to change into a gown and wait to get started.

Soon after, we met our first nurse for the night- we were told by one of the desk nurses that she was her favorite. We liked her but she wasn't my favorite because she sucked at putting my IV in. 

Granted, most people have a hard time finding my veins for IV's and blood draws, but she was pretty rough and had to try first in my right arm and then in my left before getting it in- somewhat successfully.

After that they attached the monitor for the baby's heart beat and contractions and then we waited for Dr. Hansen to come in.

She was there around 10 p.m. and they checked me and I was at about a 3.

To be induced they weren't starting me on Pitocin. I don't know the technical name, but we've been calling it the "balloon thing".

They basically insert what reminded us of an IV tube with a balloon looking thing inside you and then fill up the balloon with saline to help expand your uterus. The hope is that it makes your cervix dilate on its own  without the medication.

It was uncomfortable but not too painful.

After that it was the waiting game. Dr. Hansen was going home but was on call and could monitor me from her house so it was very nice to know that even though she wasn't there- she would be aware of everything going on with me and baby.

At this point we tried to get some sleep. My contractions started to get a little more painful, too. Not too bad- but enough to know that stuff was happening.

The nurses came in pretty frequently and pretty early on they let us know that they were slightly concerned with the baby's heart rate. It kept taking dips after each contraction and they weren't liking that. 

They told me that it could be that she was lying on her umbilical cord, that it was around her neck or that she just didn't like the side I was laying on. So they kept having me turn from the left to the right in hopes of it regulating.

Around midnight or 1 a.m. (I'm a little foggy on the timing of everything) they suggested that if I wanted an epidural to have it then even though I wasn't in too much pain yet or that far dilated.

This was because they were still concerned about baby's heart rate and they wanted the epidural in place in case we needed or wanted to go ahead with a c-section.

We were okay with that and soon our Anesthesiologist arrived.

The epidural is always so nerve wracking. But - because it is something I choose to get- I knew I just had to not think about it and just do it. 

Again, like with so many things, I felt like I was going through the motions and just felt like it wasn't really happening to me. 

I sat on the edge of the bed and AJ sat on a little stool in front of  me.

The doctor was really nice and friendly and talked me through everything he was doing. The needle part made me feel a big zinging sensation which I didn't like but it was over quickly.

However, the catheter he placed in my back took a turn to the right causing me severe discomfort to my right side and hip. He realized this right away and told me he had to take it out and do it again.

At this point all of a sudden AJ was sitting there and he got really quiet before saying he felt like he was going to get sick.

He tried to stand up but the nurse shoved him back into the chair and had him put his head between his legs.

She grabbed him a trashcan and sent another nurse to get him a drink and crackers.

Let's just say that this was really out of character l for AJ.

He doesn't get queasy from needles, blood, etc. He wasn't even watching the actual epidural. But for whatever reason him thinking about what was happening and seeing all the needles made him feel faint real quick.

So there he sat, head between his legs drinking juice while I sat on the bed while the doctor fixed my epidural. 

He was laughing, and I was trying not to laugh, too because it was so not like him!

The nurse told us that husbands fainting and passing out happens more during an epidural than actual child birth. Interesting, right?

That was a little comic relief we needed to take our minds off of things!

After that things were pretty uneventful.

 We tried to sleep but it was nearly impossible with the nurses coming in constantly- which I appreciated though. They kept us updated on the baby and continued to monitor her closely.

Her rate was still doing the dip thing (they explained everything in technical terms which was way over my head) but she definitely did better when I was on my left side.

Side note- during my pregnancy I slept solely on my left side.  

So it wasn't a surprise to me that she was favoring it then as well. More than once they would say "this kiddo doesn't like your right side" or "she's comfy where she's at" and with those comments I felt so protective over her and so close to her.

It's hard to explain but it's like I felt her spirit so strongly and so close to mine- more than I had the entire pregnancy. Maybe because she was so close to being born, I don't know. But it was a very tender thing to experience, it felt like the veil between heaven and earth was so thin and that  I already knew her so well.

They tried different sitting positions for me during the next few hours to help her regulate more.

The funniest one was the throne position. They had me sit up high in the bed with both legs in stirrups so it was basically like I was sitting on a throne . They had me like that for a few hours. 

Around 3-4 the nurse came in to check me and ended up being able to pull out the "balloon thing". When it completes its job it is supposed to just come out easily, which it did! 

She checked me and I was at a six I think, and at that point my water broke.

Of course, I couldn't feel it because of the epidural but AJ said he heard it from across the room. Ha! They cleaned me up (bless those nurses) and then we went back to waiting.

At this point they started to give me Pitocin.

Unbeknownst to us, Dr. Hansen hadn't told them to do it so it was about 3 hours after when she found out and told them to stop it. The medicine was making my contractions super strong (about 90%) when she wanted them to be at about 70%. 

Plus, it wasn't making them closer together- only stronger- which would cause concern about rupturing happening. So they stopped the Pitocin and just let my body do its thing.

I didn't get much sleep. If any- it was the conscious sleep you get when you're asleep but aware of everything going on around you. I was worried sick about the baby's heart rate and feeling more anxious by the hour because it wasn't getting better.

They gave me an oxygen mask to wear to help her flow of oxygen and that helped with her stats almost immediately.

During this time I was convinced that I just wanted to do a c-section again. I wanted her out and didn't want to wait for her heart rate to be in danger. We told the nurses that we were not at all opposed to a c-section and that we would prefer that if we needed to. 

They understood and I think glad that we were okay with it so that they didn't need to convince us of it if it came down to it.

All along I wanted to try a VBAC but I also didn't mind my c-section with Phoebe- so I really didn't care which way we went with it. I'm glad that I went into it feeling at peace about however she was born.

Soon the sun came up.

Baby's heart rate and oxygen was continuing to decrease with every contraction and I was still only around 6 or 7.

They discovered at some point that although she was head down, she was also posterior- meaning she was facing up.

They put a big "peanut" shaped Styrofoam ball  in between my legs and had me lie on my side for a couple hours in hopes of having her turn face down.

Around 9:30 and I was so tired and exhausted. 

Nothing had changed with her heart rate and I was feeling super scared and nervous and just wanting her here.  AJ and I decided that we were going to push for a C-section at this point because we didn't feel it was worth waiting it out to see if she would improve.

The charge nurse came in at that point. We hadn't met her yet but she was so, so nice and made us feel at ease.

We later learned that she and her husband can't have kids and had tried everything. I was in awe of her and her profession knowing how heartbreaking it had to be- to be surrounded by birthing mothers every day. My heart ached for her and I just had so much love and respect for her in that moment.

Anyway, she came in to check on us and as soon as she asked how I was I burst into tears and she was so kind and sympathetic.

I told her our concerns about wanting the C-section and being worried about the baby and she asked if we wanted her to advocate for us to Dr. Hansen about the C-section.

I told her yes, but she decided to check me first. 

It was then that she said "Girl, you are complete. We are having this baby now."

She had flipped and was face down. Ready to go.

I think AJ and I were both in shock that it was happening and we were about to meet our baby.

It all happened relatively fast after that.

They called Dr. Hansen who was just across the street at the clinic seeing patients. She ran over, and came into room- literally out of breath.

She was there before the nurses were even there and we all joked about that. So she went to work prepping all the things the nurses do so that when they arrived we were ready to go.

It was then that I just felt like everything was surreal.

After years of praying and hoping for this moment. It was here. 

After all the heartache and sadness and after going through so many fertility treatments and then having such a difficult pregnancy both physically and emotionally- it was time to deliver our girl.

They had me start pushing with each contraction and then even in between.

Everyone made me feel like a rock star- telling me how awesome I was doing and that I was amazing. That did help with the motivation but I was so tired and my dang oxygen mask kept falling down my face so I was a little distracted, too.

Everyone was telling me that she was almost out and almost here and I couldn't believe that I was actually doing it.

I suck at taking in deep breaths and it was hard for me to regulated my breathing and breaths in order to push her out. But toward the end the nurse got a little frantic and said that her heart rate was dropping and we needed the baby out now.

And with that I gave a final push (AJ counted I pushed 12 times in about 5-8 minutes) and she was born- she came out screaming.

Because her umbilical cord was short they could only reach her onto my stomach at first and it felt like an out of body experience having her on me.

 It took me second to catch my breath and regain my strength to realize she was here.

I remember the same thing happening with Lyla after she was born- it's like it didn't register right away.

But after a second my senses came back and I was in complete awe of her. AJ and I both were crying as we took her in.

AJ cut the cord and I was able to snuggle her on my chest and she calmed down periodically but she also really did scream a lot. 

After an hour or so they weighed her and did some of the other things.

During that hour they determined I was having more bleeding than they wanted and they gave me a shot of something in my leg to control the bleeding.

I also started getting the uncontrollable shakes.

They said it was normal but it was scary and I could hardly catch my breath. This went on for about 30-45 minutes. They helped me into a wheel chair and I couldn't even hold Ivy as rolled me down to the recovery room because my hands were still unsteady. 

Eventually, it stopped and I was able to get into the new room and get settled in.

Holding Ivy (although at the time we didn't know for sure what we were going to name her) and having her in my arms was the sweetest feeling in the world.

I am still in awe of her and her resilience and the miracle that she is.

Yes, all babies truly are miracles. But waiting for this miracle and everything we endured to get her here just makes it that much sweeter.