Hello, My Name is Dwight.

I am Dwight Schrute. Awesome.

I've never really watched much of "The Office" mainly because although it's terribly funny, it's also pretty crass. However, I'm on a sort of rebellion kick, and I've watched a bunch of shows. (Darn you, Netflix! [See. I'm already swearing more.])

I never understood who the characters really were before. Now I know. My character and Dwight's are pretty much exactly the same on so many levels. We even have the same job title in a way. (I'm assistant ward librarian [or the librarian's assistant as she calls me] and I largely just keep track of how many sheets of paper each person uses to make copies.) Oh, and we both like to brag about our vast knowledge of ridiculous topics. It's given me a few things to ponder.

I guess that would make Robert Angela. . . yeah. . . I could see that a little. He even has the same weird thing for cats and power (okay, maybe not power).

Baby Levi Birth Story

I know it's been awhile since I posted regularly, so I didn't get Levi's birth story up. In fact, I don't think I got Laurelyn's up! Sad day. I only posted 11 posts last year. That's less than one a month! I hope this year will be better. . . I hope. November 12 The one thing I told my midwife was that I didn't want to be induced. Inductions (I've had three now) are pretty hard on me. So, of course, I had to get gestational hypertensia and HAD to be induced so it wouldn't turn into pre-eclampsia. I'm looking at these pictures and I can't believe how swollen my face is! Wow. In fact, my blood pressure and the swelling didn't really go back to normal for around 3 weeks or so. It was actually kind of a rough time. But look at what I have now! My last appointment with Kim was on a Wednesday, and the induction was Friday morning. I hoped and prayed so hard that I would be able to go into labor on my own. I'm not sure why I was so worried about it, but I somehow thought I would need a c-section if I didn't. Probably a crazy thought, but I was positive that's what would happen. The last two times I was induced (with Enoch and Lolly) I almost had to have one. But Kim told me that it was the best for both me and the baby, so I agreed. This was my scariest delivery yet. Besides not feeling ready for four at all, I was really anxious about the c-section thing--and partly because my blood pressure made me feel that way too. I asked Robert to get someone to help him give me a blessing, but I think he felt silly asking someone to help when I wasn't really "sick"--although I think preparing for labor qualifies--so he didn't try very hard to contact anyone and it got too late for me to be comfortable calling anyone for myself. Oh well. I said a really long prayer instead, and I started to feel some peace. I'm so glad we have prayer (and that you don't have to call anyone to have it). That night, as I slept, I started feeling contractions. I didn't really notice what they were until about 3 in the morning when I woke up enough to notice the sick-to-my-stomach feeling wasn't just nervousness, but it was coming every 3 to 5 minutes. I'm so glad I was able to sleep through a lot of it, but they were starting to get too strong, so I got up to walk around and go to the bathroom. Sure enough, bloody show. I got really excited. Walking around didn't make the contractions go away. I woke up Robert and told him we might have to go in earlier than 5 am, the time we were scheduled for. I told him I needed his support right now, too. Poor guy was really tired, so he stayed in bed a little longer. I started watching the clock and dreading every 3 minutes passing. I got ready, went downstairs to tell Becky that we might leave a little early, switched the laundry to the dryer, and then decided I would eat a little (I know, I know, but I hate going in for labor and getting so hungry later). As soon as I was finished eating, the contractions stopped coming so strong, which I actually wasn't so happy about, because I wanted to go in and let them know I didn't need any pitocin. We waited to go in when we were scheduled (in truth, we only had about 10 minutes to wait out, because it took me extra long to get ready in between contractions). And we got to the hospital right on the dot. The nurse commented that she knew we must be Kim's patient because they're always on time (she threatens us really effectively ;D). I told everyone that I was already in labor, but nobody believed me or seemed to care. Even Kim didn't bother to check me or anything, and she ordered the pitocin right away. I was pretty bummed, but I'm not one to say anything in the face of authority, so I let it slide and silently grumbled to myself (and maybe a little to Robert, too). The contractions started coming on VERY strong in the next 5 minutes or so. There were plenty of nurses still in the room drawing my blood and whatever, so I tried my best to not look like I was in too much pain. It was absolutely exhausting to do that. I couldn't wait for them to go out so I could grimace and not have to smile and nod pleasantly to whatever they were saying. Kim came in and talked to Robert about medical stuff for thirty minutes or so. It was still hard to stay pleasant, but it was also a bit of a welcome distraction from the contractions. Thank goodness she wasn't actually talking to me, though. I don't think I could have responded well. Robert tried his hardest to be supportive. He rubbed my feet and legs and talked to me to keep my mind off of the pain. He also helped me get up to use the bathroom. We had been in for awhile and I needed to use the toilet again. That was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Contractions were around 2 minutes apart and incredibly strong. I went in the bathroom alone and completely broke down. I had to go, but I couldn't get my muscles to relax long enough in between the contractions. Once I was finally able to get back to the bed, I needed an epidural. Badly. Before the contractions got that bad I was able to focus on how great it would be to have a newborn and how much I wanted to get to know him and love him and see him, and that would make the pain go away, but in that moment I hated babies. I knew the pain wouldn't be over after he was born, or after he was weaned, or after he was potty trained, or pretty much ever. And the hurt just kept coming. Stronger. And. Stronger. I never wanted to see a baby again. Those thoughts only made the pain worse, so as soon as the nurse came in I asked for an epidural. She got permission from Kim to drug me while I waited for the anesthesiologist. The medicine quickly coursed through my veins straight to my brain. And even though my head was cloudy and I couldn't hold my eyes steady, I felt terrific. I loved everyone SO much. Especially the little baby inside of me. I totally understand why people get addicted to drugs. In fact, I'm usually afraid to get prescription painkillers because I like them way too much. Just pop a little pill and your world turns into sunshine and daffodils. Thank goodness we have the gospel, because. . . seriously, if I didn't have the Holy Ghost to give me comfort. Shoot. I don't know where I'd be. Well, actually, yes, yes I do know where I'd be. Because just a minute or two after the painkillers set in, the anesthesiologist showed up. Perfect. I wouldn't have to feel anymore pain. However, there was a scaly part on my back. I get dry skin when I'm pregnant--apparently right where they usually stick the epidural. The anesthesiologist asked me if I was sure I wanted one. He made it sound like I shouldn't, and I couldn't think straight for more than two seconds in a row because of the drugs. The nurse called Kim in. I remember there was some drama for a few minutes and that the anesthesiologist was there for quite awhile, but I don't remember much more (I was heavily drugged). (finished writing on March 30, 2011) Robert helped me decide, and I got the epidural in one of the spaces on my back that was higher up than the usual spot. I layed back and went to sleep, only waking up every once in awhile. Robert took a nap too. Before long, Kim came in and had me push. I pushed once. She told me not to push after that, but just to let the contraction push the baby out the rest of the way. It worked. He was out. It was happy. I didn't tear or anything, Kim said I might have if I'd pushed the second time. They put him on my chest, and he pooped all over me and himself--including the little tags they put on his feet and had to wear the rest of the time in the hospital--GROSS! He was still such a cutie, though. They weighed him, and measured him, and did all of their tests, and I didn't really shake or feel hungry like I usually do, because he was born by 10:10 or 10 to 10, I forget (I wonder if part of the shaking is from being hungry). All in all, it was a great delivery. The afterbirth came, and Robert looked over it with Kim (it's definitely a different experience being married to a med student). And we were transferred to our room down the hall. And then all of the children and Aunt Becky came to visit. These are the awesome people who helped me. I'm blanking on the nurses name right now (Stephanie? She also was there to help with Lolly), but Kim Bennett is my midwife in the dark blue.

Grandma Johnson Visited

Grandma Johnson came for two weeks. She just left Saturday. It was so nice to have her here. That family practice residency in Utah is looking better and better all the time. . .


She came up to see Levi.

I really appreciated all of her help. I don't think I had to feed the kids lunch at all while she was here. And I got to go out with Robert pretty often! (even if the best thing we could come up with was usually going shopping).

She also took us to Chuck E. Cheeses, which was great. Nana's been dying to go since Grandma and Grandpa Gardner took her in Orem. I gotta say, I like ours a little better. It has a nice and enclosed toddler area, and I thought it felt cleaner, but Laurelyn got and eye infection the next day, so maybe it isn't.


Thanks for coming out, Grandma! We miss you.

Sunday Comments and Our Engagement Story

You know how sometimes you really feel the Spirit and plan out just what you're going to say. . . and then you get to the pulpit and it's not nearly as nice as you thought it would be. Yeah, that happened to me on Sunday. But that's what blogs are for, right? :D.

On occassion, my ward has a singing sacrament meeting--kind of like testimony meeting--where people get up and share a favorite hymn and what it means to them.

Mine was "High on the Mountain Top." I basically said that we sang it after we were engaged and that I know that families can be together forever, and that this song makes me think of more than just the gospel on a whole, but of that smaller part of the gospel--eternal families, but I left out a few important facts--like that we were actually ON a mountaintop. Of course, I wouldn't share as much in church as I do here. . . But. . . Anyway. . . It's a good story, or at least one I'd like to remember, so here goes:

When Robert and I got engaged for the second time, we decided to take a hike up the mountain behind his parents' home. (It was also our second time taking this hike--the first time I got too dizzy and couldn't make it all of the way up.) We were broken up at the time, but we had been getting together occassionally for about two weeks to talk about how we were doing and if it might be possible to get back together again. I remember Robert commenting that we were the only thing that could help the other get through that time. (Dating is ridiculous, isn't it?) Anyway. We're on a hike. We get to the top of the mountain and discuss our feelings. Robert had talked with his bishop, and his advice (thank goodness!) changed his perspective on a few things--i.e. he wasn't going to ask me to marry him only a few days before our wedding date. (Like I said, dating is ridiculous.) But we still weren't for sure going to get married.

We talked about lots of stuff. We snacked a little, read some scriptures, and we talked about school and his trip to Europe that was coming up in the next few days, theories about spiritual matter, how neat it was to be on a mountain (I'd never been before) and I also remember talking about how getting an answer about marriage is personal, and if you truly had a positive Spiritual revelation (and the person you wanted to marry also had one), then it doesn't matter how many people got a negative one--it's not a popularity vote. We talked a little more. . . and I don't remember exactly what I said, but Robert jumped up really quickly. I honestly thought I'd offended him or something and that he ran off to go throw up somewhere. I couldn't see him or what he was doing for quite awhile. My emotions got the best of me, and I started to sob quietly to myself. I was feeling pretty hopeless--like we'd never be able to be together.

Eventually, Robert came back with some wildflowers he'd picked, got on one knee and asked me to marry him. Of course I said yes--it's Robert--I cried some more from happiness--and we felt like we should sing a hymn or something. We picked "High on the Mountaintop," although we didn't remember all of the words perfectly--and then we went to tell our parents the good news, which was kind of like telling someone you broke their picture window. Now we have four kids. End of story.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Aren't our kids cute!

Catching Up Again

Okay. Get ready for some sporadic posting in a sporadic order ;D.

Starting Over

Today I'm getting rid of all of it. There is too much junk on our house. Everything should have a place--not a "storage" place. There are boxes in storage that I haven't looked through for at least a year, and my closet has tubs of pre-pregnancy clothes that I haven't worn basically for five years (except for about a month or two after Nana was born). Picture frames are also evil. Alrighty. Here goes. . .

Vacations

are pretty nice. We've been in Utah for Robert's first rotation. We leave for home this Sat. I'm really excited to get back, but a little sad to leave too. Oh, and the two-day trip--not exactly ecstatic. But, at least I'll get a lot of time with Robert. I miss him.

Ready for the LOOOOONG Story? (Me neither--the abridged is the previous post)

I used to visit teach Jodi Ewing, and once she told us something to the effect that if you are with all of your kids and it seems like one of them are missing--you're probably up for another baby. I was pregnant at the time with Lolly, so I had experienced something to that effect already. For me, it's more hearing a baby cry. In January (or earlier? I don't remember) I started hearing a phantom baby. It was driving me crazy, actually. But I've always wanted a larger family, so I was glad. I was already working on my weightloss goals so that I could have a healthier pregnancy, and the phantom baby was encouraging.

Also in January, things were starting to get back to normal a little. My cycle had started again, Robert and I were doing exceptionally well in our marriage (those books the bishop recommended in the 5th Sunday combined meeting, were really helpful), I was being a better mom, and even my hobbies were picking up again. Then, we had a great, uplifting, spiritual experience, and I knew we were pregnant. Robert was skeptical. I was still nursing, and we were on birth control. He said he'd wait for the test results.

Sure enough, next month, no period. I started to get anxious about telling others. Our midwife had told us not to have another baby for awhile for health reasons, and I fully intended to follow that direction. I also didn't want to tell people at church. I felt it was a little irresponsible for someone as scatter-brained as me to have so many kids so close together, especially considering the problems I had last pregnancy and the stage we are in with medical school--and I had a little proof that some of the sisters agreed with me--at least to a certain extent. The next girls' night I went to, I kind of hinted that we might be expecting (I hadn't taken a test yet, but my period was three days late or so, and I'd already seen some of that pinkish bloody show you get in pregnancy a few days before it should have come). I don't think most people noticed, but one did at least a little bit, and it wasn't the most encouraging verbal reaction for me. Not that anyone was mean or anything. About a month later (when I decided I was not pregnant), another person told me that I better not be pregnant in a jocular fashion--I agreed, and I assured them that I was not. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

I decided that if I didn't get my period by Feb 5th, I would take a test. I took two a few days later. Both were negative. I waited a few days and took another. I thought there was a faint line, but Robert's always there when I take these tests in case it's important news, and he says there wasn't one. I called the midwife, and her nurse had me come in for a test, but I couldn't get the results until Monday. I believe it was that Sunday, I started to really feel the effects of my pregnancy. I was bloated and my skirt was too tight, I had sharing time and I wanted to throw up during it. Right after I was finished with sharing time, I went to the back of the room where Jandi and Carolyn were sitting, and a wave of sickness hit me. I ran to the bathroom and tossed my cookies. Carolyn followed me, and asked me if I was okay, and if I were pregnant. Even though I hadn't really gotten a positive test yet, I told her I was. And she was great--really supportive. I love Carolyn a lot. If you don't know her very well, you really should. She is a very loving sister. Jandi was also great, I didn't get a chance to talk with Lacey that day. (These are the sisters that were in the primary presidency.) I'm fuzzy on the dates, but at some point, I started bleeding brown and red blood again, and I thought I was either having a period again or miscarrying. I told Lacey over the phone that I was pregnant and possibly miscarrying, and it was nice to have her to talk to. I got the results back from the Dr. and they were negative. But I had mastitis--that was enough to explain some of my symptoms. Robert told me I must be having my period and that I really needed to tell everyone that I wasn't pregnant. I agreed. I figured I was trying so hard to prove that I was pregnant, that I was just in denial that I wasn't. Oh the irony. I didn't want to tell anyone in person, so I wrote an email it went something like this:
Hi everyone,

So, if I wasn't embarrassed before. . . well, I sure am now.

Funny story:

I felt funny one day--really tired and nauseated. So I had Robert go to the dollar store and get me three HPT's while he was out (yes, he is amazing--he even had to ask the clerk where they were). Took the first two the next morning and the morning after that. They were negative, but I still felt pregnant. I waited a week for the next one, and it was faintly positive (but now I'm wondering). I decided it must be right since it matched my symptoms--nausea, fatigue, dwindling milk supply, even bloating, etc.

Then, as I mentioned to Lacey last night, I thought I was miscarrying, so I called the doctor. Turns out, more than likely, I'm not pregnant at ALL! (Kind of a relief, and also a bit of a disappointment.) I just have had mastitis for almost a month. (ICK!--I've had it 3 times before, but I honestly thought you could only get that when your milk first comes in), and all the worrying about everything from how we were going to pay for four kids in college and what everyone would think of us when they found out is probably the reason I was "morning sick" (I really was stressed out) and not being able to sleep because of those thoughts probably exacerbated the normal "fatigue" that comes with mastitis. Oh yeah, and the "bloating" and the "miscarriage"--that would be from "my friend" finally visiting after pregnancy. Yes, I am a nerd. Pity me (for my legitimate insanity, not the cosmic insanity that would find me pregnant right now--of course it might be really nice condition to be in by this time next year).

But, it's actually been kind of one of those blessing in disguise. I've had to do a lot of life examining--especially of my parenting and my relationship with my husband. I was trying to prepare for what a trial it would be by strengthening my love for each of my current family members. I also learned not to worry about things so much. I feel fantastic about that part of all of this.

Blah.

Okay, now that you know waaaaay to much about the inner (non-)workings of my brain. . .

Alrighty--I'm off to find a brown paper bag,
Loves,
Ali Mae

See? I can be pretty convincing, huh? Although, I don't think I had mastitis for over a month--probably more like a week. In fact, I wasn't feeling very well again at a pack meeting, and Carolyn asked me if it was mastitis again, and I didn't know what to say, because it was the same symptoms again, but the infection had definitely cleared up by then.

The rest of February was not the best month. There was the mastitis mess, which if you've had it before, you know it's really painful and completely wipes you out, and I was sleeping a lot more often. Now that we were sure we weren't expecting, Robert was a little peeved that I was not getting up to get the kids in the morning anymore, and that I was taking a nap or two throughout the day. Our relationship was struggling again, in part because Robert had more responsibilities for school, and I also needed him more. I was also hitting a new low. I was feeling really depressed--and I'm not using that term lightly. Robert told me once that I should get some medical help. I thought of talking to the bishop, but I never got around to it. I'm not sure why I was so bad off--I guess because it was so hard to get motivated to do anything but sleep, and I didn't know why. It felt like my life was falling apart around me. People keep telling me that they think it would be neat to not know they were pregnant for a few months so that it would go faster. Let me just tell you, it wasn't that pleasant for me. Not knowing is much harder.

In March I had another irregular "period" after a strenuous run. I was pushing myself to train for a run, and I pushed too hard. The bleeding came the next day. It wasn't on schedule, but I had already called the Dr. office a second time and the nurse had said (after consulting my midwife) that it was completely normal to be missing my periods or having them run so light and irregular with brown blood for up to a year after weaning. That didn't sound quite right to me, but okay. I figured something was probably wrong, but not that I was pregnant. I had just had another 'period' afterall. I had some horrible hormonal issues especially after hitting puberty before we were married, and I just figured those were coming back--not a happy thought. I really didn't want to deal with all of that again.

Michelle came to visit us sometime around then--and I was having trouble fitting into my clothes and staying awake while she was in town. I chalked it up to the fact that we would stay up late talking. We also ran around town a lot doing fun things with the kids like going to the library and looking for leapfrog statues around town. The baby also weaned herself while Michelle was here. I was having trouble keeping my milk supply up and the baby didn't seem interested anymore. I've heard that your milk tastes funny when you're pregnant, so that might be why.

April Fool's day came around, and I started getting a lot more symptoms. I remember looking in the mirror, noticing how bloated I was, and then going downstairs to watch general conference with Robert--pointing out to him how pregnant I looked--and he agreed that my stomach was 'bloated'. I resolved to eat more fiber and exercise more. I ate so much fiber the next few days. It was really cleansing, but I still looked bloated. We played the best April Fool's joke on eachother that day. We kept poking fun at how pregnant I looked and acted, but neither of us thought I actually was.

Joanna's birthday was coming around, and I was so tired and useless that I couldn't put together a birthday party for her. We did do a few fun things at home with her, but no big shebang like we had for Enoch. She noticed too. Her birthday was on a Thursday. That morning we had gone shopping with her, although she couldn't decide what toy she wanted, so we didn't get her anything. While we were out, we stopped by the dollar store for some HPT's. I wasn't quite 'late' according to my last 'period', but I wanted to avoid calling the midwife again and the anticipation of whether or not I was going to have another period. We were joking in the car that there was no way we were having a baby; we had been so careful. Robert had to leave that afternoon for stake meetings in Jamestown, so after we had cake and ice cream, he left and I played with the kids that evening. When it was bath time, I put the baby down and the kids were playing in the tub, so I thought, 'Hey, I'm in the bathroom. . . I might as well do this now.' And I took the pregnancy test. I probably should have waited until after the kids were in bed. As soon as the fluid hit the stick it was unmistakably positive. I started crying--a lot. Poor Joanna didn't know what was going on. She kept telling me it was okay, and she'd asked me not to cry. I managed to put on a somewhat straight face and tell her I was alright. Once they were in bed, I tried to call Robert, but he was in a meeting, so he didn't answer the phone. I tried to text him, but I don't think he knows how to check texts. I finally called him again when I thought his meeting should be over (or he called me, I don't remember), and told him. He was surprised, especially since I started crying again. But he tried to comfort me. He couldn't come home right away (partially because Jamestown is kind of far, partially because he didn't drive and needed a ride), and he had another meeting, so he had to go, and I called my mom.

I am glad I took the test that night, because Bro May drove Robert home, and they came in and gave me a blessing. That helped. I was worried about how the baby was since I'd had so much bleeding and how the midwife had warned us it wouldn't be healthy to get pregnant again right away. Robert was really comforting, though. I didn't get much sleep that night. And it was hard to tell anyone at first--even within the family. I kept crying when I voiced it. I was also still worried about how others would react, but most have reacted pretty well. A few people, like my uncle, have had their opinions, but none I could take offense to. The bishop has been really supportive too. (Our bishop is really outstanding.) And I've gotten used to the idea. More than used to it actually. I've gone from crying and worried every time I think deeply about it, to really being excited and more than comfortable with the idea. I'm definitely at peace. I very much want this baby, and I'm so glad that it's coming to stay with us. I still worry about what's going to happen when the baby arrives, how the delivery will go, how it will affect the rest of the kids, but not nearly on the level I used to.

Congratulations if you read that whole post. I didn't even read through it a second time.

Oops, can't catch up like I'd hoped. And the abridged pregnancy story.

Looks like we didn't put some of the pictures on our external hard drive that I'd thought. So St. Patrick's Day, Birthdays, fish and frog huntings, will just have to wait until later.

But do not be dismayed. I've finally decided to post a giant long post about how we were and weren't and were pregnant, etc.

I'm pretty sure none of you actually have the time to read the whole thing--so here is the abridged version:

Kept hearing a phantom baby.
Spiritual experience=really excited even though it wasn't part of my plan.
Hinted at birthday party.
Other primary presidency members asked when I was morning sick during my sharing time.
Despite morning sickness, bloating, the inextinguishable desire to sleep, and that pinkish spotting I've only gotten when pregnant--all 4 of the actual diagnostic tests were negative (including the one at the Dr.'s).
I finally get some heavier brown bleeding and decide it's my late, light period.
Had to write an embarrassing email telling other presidency members I was NOT pregnant.
Thought up all of the reasons why another baby right now was more than wrong for our family.
Missed next month's period too. Called Dr. Nurse said it was normal for up to a year after weaning!
I had another 'light period' only a few days late after strenuously exercising. Figured the Dr. must be right.
Some clothes stopped fitting me.
Upped my exercise and diet program (I had been doing really well previously).
Decided my hormonal problems from puberty must be making me sick. Got really depressed.
Nearing my next period, wanted to avoid the uncertainty and didn't want to call the Dr. again.
Was certain I was NOT pregnant, but took a test anyway--just to see if I needed to see a Dr. for other reasons.
The test was immediately positive. I cried and called Robert.