Right.

I haven't really addressed my religion on this blog and try not to make posts too serious or dramatic. I've had reasons, though none have ever been good. In general, I've always wanted to achieve a simple and light-hearted feel to my posts that might make at least one or two people laugh or at the very least, not have to think too much about what Im saying. Again, the reasons aren't necessarily good.  

Anyway, on the day we got home from the hospital with Beckett, I told Elliott that I felt sanctified to an extent for what I had just done. I had never physically sacrificed or endured so much for such an important and divine cause (and I mean the 9 months of baby carrying in addition to the c-section). Not that I felt as though I was transformed into this superior being who should constantly be praised--because I benefited just as much as anyone else did from the experience and desperately wanted and chose to be apart of bringing a life into this world. I simply had never felt so blessed and proud from having such a torn and expended body. It was and is my badge of honor. I knew that I was fulfilling one of the most important purposes on this Earth and thus felt closer to my Heavenly Father. It's that last part that recently struck me as to why I've felt conflicted in my life as of late. Nothing too serious and again, NOT PPD. I've simply experienced withdrawals from the spiritual side of my life that has led me to enter into a mindset of guilt. Guilt from constantly doubting those who have never ceased to prove me wrong. Guilt over those four-letter words and crude jokes I like to spout off no matter who's around me without a second thought because they've simply become habit. Guilt from letting sleep inhibit prayer and scripture study. Guilt from never truly paying thanks to my God for my son.  

I am attending the temple tomorrow. I am attending church on Sunday. They will both be for the first time in weeks. I have a lot to express thanks for. A lot to repent for. And a lot to pray for. I'm not depressed and I'm not being eaten-alive at night by my recent realizations... theoretically. I actually am literally being eaten-alive at night by the nursing Beckett. I'm simply happy for the motivation to improve my life that temple and church attendance provide. I know they are real. I know they are true. I know that I will be with my family forever now and in the hereafter because of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. So. There is no point in making that eternity anything less than what it can be.  

Beckett List

Not that this was ever on my bucket list... and not that I even have a bucket list (I am at peace with not ever meeting Paul McCartney if needs be) but I figure this is an iconic thing that, at one time or another, most people wish to do at some point in their life. Well. My baby has done it already.  

Yeah. They scanned his butt. 

Today I visited three of the incredibly exciting people I used to work with at ASU (Polytechnic) and, feeling desperate for caffeine, left the baby with them while I ran to QT. Upon my return, I found out that they wanted to have some fun with him.

Baby Fridays at where-I-used-to-work will continue.  

I Remember Hearts That Beat... I Remember You and Me.

I remember being an hour late to my wedding. 
-I remember crying on the 101 because we didn't know it was closed from Cave Creek on and it took my mom and me 40 minutes to detour down Cave Creek to the 51.

-I remember the woman on Shea Blvd. sticking half her body out of the passenger side of her BMW to flip us off because my poor mother was literally pulling at her hair and driving as aggressively and safely as possible while her daughter was sobbing next to her.

-I remember calming down on the 202 and receiving a text from Elliott that read, "No sorries today. I love you." Then I cried some more. 

I remember our ceremony.
-I remember being late. So terribly late.
-I remember rushing through the temple doors where Elliott was waiting in the front with his mom. Feeling panicked and overwhelmed, I didn't really get to appreciate that first time seeing him on our wedding day.
-I remember changing into my dress (my grandma had to help me for a few minutes before my mom came in after parking the car).
-I remember finally feeling ready, quiet and relieved. I could slow my steps, breathe deep, and enjoy my walk alone to the hallway where Elliott sat waiting for me.
-I remember our few minutes on "that bench" where we sat close, held hands, and talked about my dress. He loved it.

-I remember being escorted by my husband-to-be into the sealing room where our dearest friends and family were.

-I remember forcing myself not to look at Elliott until everything was said and done and we kissed. I only watched our Sealer. Seeing everyone cry out of the corners of my eyes and already having been so emotional that morning, there was no need for a literally, uncontrollable outpouring of tears. (I know I shouldn't worry about those things but I did and it was still just as special). 

I remember our photography (by Justine Miller). 
-I remember the heat.
-I remember my gerbera daisies. Pam arranged them into my bouquet. They were amazing. I'll keep them forever.
-I remember smiling the most genuine smiles of happiness
-I remember knowing I was the most beautiful bride.
-I remember Elliott and me trying to attempt a posed laugh. Fail.
-I remember being carried through the dirt by my husband.
-I remember still seeing dirt all over my dress but not caring.

I remember our reception at Brianne's.
-I remember the work she put into it.

-I remember how much my parents and Elliott's parents contributed and helped as well.
-It was perfectly our size and style.
-I remember constant hand holding.
-I remember we were so happy to be done with everything by 2:15 pm. Sharp.
-I remember Elliott driving me away.
-I remember our silence, quiet laughs and jokes about where he was surprising me for our hotel.  

(arranged by Pam too!)

I remember The Buttes, our afternoon and our night. 
-It's only ours to remember. With the exception of our wedding night dinner at Taco Bell, Whataburger, Pizza Hut and Circle K.

-Oh. And I remember celebrating our one-year anniversary at The Buttes with that same dinner. 

I remember this all and so much more because it's the one event in my life where time didn't stall, it didn't rush past us in a blur. We took everything minute by minute, basking in it. No slower, no faster. Happy 2-year anniversary, Elliott.


May 17, 2008

May

You're my favorite month. It's a shame The Office made fun of people who like to talk about their favorite months via Erin on one of their more recent episodes. Still, I have very serious reservations regarding my favorite months, least favorite months, months I'd like to have children in (score one point for May!) and months that produce a null in emotion inside of me (looking at you January).

I've been somewhat devastated (NOT PPD) that the weather outside has been nothing short of gorgeous on this most beautiful month of the year.  I have been cooped up inside recovering and caring for my baby boi. Yesterday I walked the longest distance at one time since my c-section. I loved the color of the flowers and buildings as I walked through ASU's Main campus. The warm sun contrasted so perfectly with the cool breeze. Needless to say by the time I got back to the car I was limping and my left hip hurt like I had a giant bruise on it.

Oh well. Worth it. 

(p.s. this does not look like a 9-day-old)

::Beckett::

I'm feeling and getting so much better. I'm finally able to wake up in the middle of the night to help feed little-big baby. This is especially important (and a blessing) because of the impending change for Elliott at school.

Elliott starts treating patients full-time in the clinic next week. I am so proud and excited for him! Of course, he doesn't ever get nervous or arrogant about this big transition, just excited. He takes on so much with ease and a reserved confidence that most people, especially me, don't have. Fortunately, his days of caring for two babies (physically) are coming to an end. 

Thank you to everyone who brought meals, visited us in the hospital and just came to hold Beckett while I was recovering at home! We love you all so much, especially our family who has been so loving and selfless in wanting to help out.

My Mother's Day

For Mother's Day Elliott got me this:

It's a new print for our kitchen. I can't wait until it comes in the mail. I went through a period of time where I would jokingly tell him and my cat to "MIND YOUR MANNERS!" 

When I saw this, I fell in love with it.

As a joke he got me these (though really, who's joking about their deliciousness?):

Not to be outdone by anyone else on Mother's Day, he gave me this:

Pure love, joy & satisfaction. 

I have lots and lots of baby pictures posted on my facebook (though it is private, but no worries, I'll add you!) The past week has been a blur. My pill cocktail of percocet and ibuprofen has probably contributed to that quite a bit. I get my staples out tomorrow and hopefully that will help the recovery process speed up, though I know they say 6-8 weeks but that's for a complete recovery. I just need to get to the point where Elliott doesn't have to do all the night feedings (it takes me at least 3 excruciating minutes of pain to get out of bed each time) and most of the baby lifting. That's been the hardest thing. Not the pain really, because I have my lovely pill cocktail. Not the sleep deprivation, because even though I still do get up in the middle of the night to pump and offer words of encouragement to my husband, we tag team naps and doze every so often while the baby sleeps. Plus there's a QT 1/2 a mile away. It's those feelings of helplessness, for which my husband has stepped up to go above and beyond typical "daddy duties" and take on many of the "mama duties" as well. I'll love Elliott forever and will always feel grateful for his sacrifice, patience and undying love for our family. No need to worry, we have patience and know this is temporary. We're so happy and welcome this change through the faceplants into our pillows where we yell frustrations. 

I love that we can say this is one more thing we have experienced together and will share forever. 

We love Beckett. 

Here Comes the Son!

I thought my title contained some exceptional Beatles whit. I'm sure it will get an eye roll. The pictures say more than words.

Beckett Cale Brennan

(middle name pending)

Look Closely! That says 9 lbs. 9 oz.. Who's kid is this? We are both just little ones. So obviously this explains the progression of the day yesterday. We started induction at 7:30AM, broke her water at 12:30PM, pushed from 10:00PM to about 12:30AM and had a C section at 1:30AM.

The result, our little boy was out at 1:42 AM and mom is doing great. They're both sleeping right now.

Little cutie. He had just been weighed and footprints taken. He has a big cone head with a lot of swelling and fluid from the extensive pushing but he should be just fine. He is so happy and being so sweet already.

This boy was starving... couldn't wait for mom to finish up with the doctor so he got a little bit of formula help. No worry though breast feeding has gone great so far. They are both great at it.

I learned a lot about this woman past 24 hours. This girl is not shy of deep water. I now clearly understand how some men say over and over that the mothers of their families are their rock. This picture tells it all. She is so beautiful and having so much fun. This was not at a fun stage of the day either. I got so many smiles and precious moments. I've never been so scared and I've never been so impressed. I'm so proud of Alisa. Pushing that baby out ended up being physically impossible for her but she didn't hold back when they asked for more. She had more will power and raw determination than I've ever exhibited at any time in my life. I love her so much and as she said, "as scary and as hard as the day was, it was all worth it!"

Sleep sweet beautiful girl, you did great.