Hope Full

Amazing necklace designed by CreateBeautyDaily
Amazing belly designed by me, God, and a whole lotta love

I Am My Beloved's

Four years ago, on a beautiful summer day, I met this man at the end of the aisle.

I wore my dream Maggie Sottero gown, and every little bit was just how I imagined it. Only better.

Our wedding was so perfectly us. Instead of the traditional piano/organ music, we had a harpist. My friend Adrienne read this e.e. cummings poem. Shane's sister read from the Song of Solomon, which is my favorite part of the Bible.

And at the end of the ceremony, my husband who hates PDAs so much that he swore up and down he'd only give me a peck on the lips, kissed me so long that I eventually had to pull away, much to the laughter of everyone in attendance.

We left the church in a shower of pink and yellow flower petals.

In a shout out to Shane's nerdiness, we entered the reception to The Imperial March from Star Wars. We played Hot For Teacher when Shane removed my garter.
Our first dance was to Baby, Can I Hold You by Tracy Chapman.

By this point, my curls had fallen in the sticky Indiana heat, and I'd long since ditched the veil, but I didn't care.

And the cake, mmm, the cake was delicious!
On our first anniversary, I was so newly pregnant that it was mostly our sweet secret. And now, three years later, I'm so full of life that a stranger passing on the street knows. Four years of marriage, two babies. Could I be any luckier?
I don't think so.

Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be condemned.

Song of Solomon, 8. 7

Wedding photos by Keith Hefner Photography

Beach Baby

Alternately titled: Beached Whale

Just kidding, I don't really feel like a beached whale. Okay, I kind of did with all the skinny girls in bikinis, but they suck anyway.

The water was cold, so for the first time in days, I felt cool and comfortable with my feet dug in the sand.


It's hard to believe I'm 37 weeks. I saw my midwife today, and I'm back down to just a ten pound weight gain because it is too freaking hot to eat anything other than strawberries and ice cream. And watermelon. Lots of watermelon! She is estimating that if I had this baby today, it'd weigh six pounds, but if I (more likely scenario) have this baby at 40ish weeks, it'll weigh in the lower 8 pound spectrum. She was spot on in estimating that Luke would weigh nine pounds, so I trust her mad weight estimating skillz. My GBS was negative, which means she has no problem with me laboring at home for as long as necessary. It's funny how different this baby is from Luke. When she used to feel for Luke's head during internal exams, she could bob it around without any protest from him. When she did with this baby today, it immediately planted both feet in my ribs like, What the hell are you doing!? Anyway, baby's head is at a -2, I'm 1cm and soft but not effaced. At 37 weeks with Luke, everything was still closed up tighter than Fort Knox, and believe it or not, his head never descended to a -2 until I was NINE CENTIMETERS. For those of you not versed with prego lingo, a -2 is the *highest* point of head engagement, so basically, I had one stubborn ass kid.
I feel excited, but I also feel so content to let this pregnancy stretch on to 40 weeks. I'm enjoying it, I really, truly am. My only complaint is the heat and the fact that I have yet another toothache, but the heat is obviously out of my control, and the toothache is the result of a root canal yesterday and should hopefully feel better in a few days.

And now that I've let you all know the state of my cervix, I'm going to go take a nap, even though I've only been awake for roughly 2.5 hours. I love summer!

Father's Day

When I was a little girl, I had trouble staying inside the lines when I colored. My dad told me that only idiots let the lines of a coloring book confine them, and since, I've carried that with me to apply to every facet of my life. Dad was right.
When I was seven months pregnant with Luke, I asked my mom if she wanted to be in the delivery room. She said, yes, of course, and I said that I figured dad wouldn't want to be there, but she could ask him. To my surprise, my dad said that yes, he did want to be there. At the time, I was surprised, but I should've known that my dad would want to be there for me, just like he always has been.

Having my dad there for the birth of my son was one of the beautiful, most special moments of my life. During my labor, dad kind of stayed in the background, perhaps unsure of what to do with all the women swarming around me. But he did so much, in his dad way. After I'd been laboring all night with no signs of stopping, he went to McDonald's to get breakfast for my doula and everyone else. When he got back, he discovered that the hospital was holding a bake sale. And so, after Luke was born, he snuck downstairs and bought a chocolate cake to celebrate Luke's birthday.

When Luke came into this world, my dad was standing behind my midwife and laid eyes on him even before I did. After Luke was born, my mom and Shane both were like SEE YA LATER and flocked to Luke's side. As I was being stitched up, my doula held one hand, and my dad held the other. My dad slyly looked at me and said, Sooo... when did you get that tattoo? See, my dad doesn't like tattoos, so mine has been a secret since I got it at 19. I said, "Mom knew about it!" and we all laughed and he lovingly teased me. While I was getting stitched, he still held my thin hand tight in his big one and talked to my doula about how beautiful Luke's birth was. Having just given birth, I didn't think my heart could get bigger, but it did.

To this day, if you ask my dad about Luke's birth, he will talk your ear off about how amazing it was, how beautiful every single part of it was, and how he thinks everyone should have such a beautiful, peaceful birth. And if you ask me about it, well, I'll tell you the same... but I'll also tell you that I am forever thankful that my dad could be there.

Diane Birch [CD Review]

Of all the music I've been blessed to review via One2One Network, Bible Belt by Diane Birch is hands down my favorite. I absolutely love her style! She's described as a combination of Carole King and Stevie Nicks who are two of my favorites, so it's no wonder I adore her style. What I love about the CD is that it's such a mix of different musical genres, some of it bluesy, some upbeat, some almost country, but it all works so well. My husband and I are big on playing background music while we eat dinner, and we usually try to rotate CDs, but I have to admit that since I received this one... well, we haven't taken it out of the CD player!

The best part of this album? Check out that widget on the upper right hand side. If you click it to download on itunes OR purchase it through Amazon, $1 will be donated to Susan G Komen fund for the cure. So not only do you get great new music to listen to, but you can do something good, too! What's not to love?

You Capture: Emotions

Sometimes I feel like I get too wordy in my you capture posts, so I will just let you know that this picture captures my favorite of emotions: pure, unadulterated joy.

Out And About

Do you remember how weeks and weeks ago, I wore this gray tank top and had only the slightest bit of a bump?

And now, at 36 weeks, I can just barely pull it down to cover my stomach that now seems like it can't possibly grow any further out. My skin is stretched as tight as a drum, and several times a day, I get little feet sticking out of me every which way.

I love it. I can't imagine how much bigger I'm going to get over the next four or so weeks, but I love it. I hit 12 pounds of weight gained, and even though I'm pouty to be over ten, I know half of that weight is baby... so really, I think I'm doing pretty well! I'm still working out, though I don't know how much longer I can keep up 40 minutes every night.

Today is June 16th. My due date is July 16th. I can't believe that by this time next month, I may have possibly already met the little one inside of me... or I may be getting very close to meeting him/her. The baby clothes are all washed. My hospital bag is packed. The only thing I have left to get together is the list of people for Shane to call after the baby is born. I can't believe the time between 13 weeks and 36 weeks went so quickly, but I can truthfully say that I've loved every single minute.

Love Thy Neighbor?

Quite a few people commented on my you capture post, asking how planting a bush could annoy someone. I can completely understand your confusion, as I'm sure most of you don't live next door to a weed whacking freak who has clearly inhaled too many lawn chemicals. Since our last incident of The Mayor offering to buy ChemLawn for us, we've had a few run-ins with him offering us sage lawn advice. One such piece of advice involved telling us that we shouldn't bother planting flowers or bushes because they just promote weeds, and we need to focus our time on lawn upkeep. The day after he told us this, I went out and bought the bush and several flowers to plant around it. I also planted the bush directly opposite the junk truck he keeps in his driveway (this man has a garage, so it's just obnoxious), keeping in mind that he'd told us that he plants bushes to block offensive views.
This year, to shut him up, Shane spot sprayed all the dandelions, so we didn't have a single dandelion in our yard. We do have clover, but I think clover is pretty and also it's good for the grass.

Wednesday night, Shane, Luke, and I headed out for a walk. The Mayor was meticulously inspecting his front lawn. Shane said hi and asked him how he was doing. His response was, "Boy, you don't see a single weed in MY yard." This was my last day of school, and I was already pretty fired up from this goodbye, so I tersely said, "I really don't see what that matters!" The Mayor's response was to say, "Wow," so Shane calmly said, "We've discussed before that I'm not putting chemicals on my lawn." The Mayor said, "I've been breathing them in for 70 years, and I'm just fine!" It was on the tip of my tongue to disagree with that, but Shane just said, "You're entitled to your opinion, and I have mine," and we kept walking. Weird side note, The Mayor is not actually 70, he's in his 60s, so apparently all those years of breathing in chemicals have caused him to forget his own age.

Fast forward to Saturday night. Shane went outside to leave for his poker game, and the neighbor was outside madly flinging dirt around his front yard for inexplicable reasons. Before Shane could say anything, the neighbor said, "You have a bad attitude, young man!" and turned to these random people walking past with a baby in a stroller and said, "This young man over here has a bad attitude!" If you know my husband, you know he is very calm and level-headed. I am absolutely the antagonistic, hot-headed one in the relationship, and he is always reminding me that loving is better than fighting. Oh, but my calm husband? He lost it. He told The Mayor that how dare he accuse him of having a bad attitude when he was the one making comments when Shane was outside trying to enjoy an evening walk with his wife and child, he told him we don't live in a neighborhood with a convenant and that maybe the mayor should move to one, he told him that he made sure to get rid of all the dandelions and that the day the mayor put up a for sale sign, he'd gladly pour every chemical in the world on our lawn just to get rid of him, and he said that from now on, if he has nothing nice to say, he doesn't want to hear it. Through this all, The Mayor just kept repeating, "You have a bad attitude, young man." The Mayor is hugely religious, so Shane asked him if he thought a green lawn was all it took to get into Heaven, if treating people with kindness didn't mean anything, then Shane told him not to worry, though, despite his rudeness, he'd still keep him in his prayers. At this point, The Mayor stalked inside, and then I made out with Shane for giving him such a verbal beat down. Okay, I didn't really make out with him, but I applauded him for saying his part, but still keeping his cool much better than I would have (seriously, he didn't swear once!).

The thing about our neighborhood is that most people work and have small children, so actually, the majority of lawns are just like ours with a smattering of clover, but everyone has flowers and lawns are kept mowed. The other neighbors have also adopted the nickname of The Mayor for this man. Unfortunately, he keeps his lawn like a golf course and has never been able to understand that for some people, there are more important things in this world than having a meticulously kept lawn. The most we can do now is shake our heads, keep planting flowers, and just hope that this means that he'll leave us alone! Truthfully, I'm pretty happy about it because this means I no longer have to endure him calling me young lady or Mrs. Shane.

So, there you go, the story of the bush to annoy our neighbor. I'm thinking of planting a whole row of them...

You Capture: Nature

I thought this week's You Capture would be a little easier, but every time I stepped outside, every kid in the neighborhood flocked over. And I didn't want to get every kid in the neighborhood in my photos. Note to self: Be meaner to neighborhood kids.
I originally planted this bush for the sole purpose of annoying our neighbor, but it's become one of my favorites because it was the first thing green this spring and has stayed a beautiful, fresh green.

Even better than the bush itself is when I go to snap a photo and capture my favorite nature loving boy zooming by in a blur in the background.

p.s. This has nothing to do with nature (well, maybe), but I had my first real dream about the baby last night, and even though the baby was ten pounds and I caught it myself on the kitchen floor because I had a crazy fast labor, it was still a very sweet dream and my arms feel a little empty this morning. Soon!

Single Handed

At this point in my pregnancy with Luke, I remember being all, WOOHOO I CAN COUNT THE NUMBER OF WEEKS ON ONE HAND. This time around, it's still exciting, but also, I'm kind of wishing I had another ten weeks left.

I love this pregnancy so much. I might look and feel like I swallowed a watermelon, but at this point with Luke, I'm pretty sure I felt like Jabba the Hutt. Winter pregnancies just aren't as cute because you have to bundle yourself up and put on shoes that aren't flip flops and that's just not fun! I remember both Shane and my midwife having to tie my shoes for me. (And yes, I know my pale whitey white legs look like I'm pregnant in the winter, but my summer vacation still has not yet started.) It helps that Steph has so sweetly passed on a million cute maternity clothes to me, making me feel a little less burned out with clothing at this point.
I'm starting my regimen of red raspberry leaf tea, acidophilus, and evening primrose oil. The amount of pills I take every night makes me feel like an 80 year old woman, but I'm hoping they help this baby to shoot out of me like a cannonball. Unlike the last baby I had who took 22 hours to slooooowly emerge from my body with a great deal of coaxing. He's totally worth it, but I wouldn't turn down a quicker labor this go round.

I have a to-do list that's about a mile long, but surely this sweet baby who has given me no new stretch marks and has only caused a ten pound weight gain will wait until that to-do list is finished, right?

No More Teachers' Dirty Looks

Tomorrow will be my very last day of teaching until January. The only sadness I feel about that is that it couldn't be a longer break.

Career-wise, this has been one of the longest years of my life. I've dealt with administration issues, co-worker issues, and student issues that I would never have fathomed would come up in my teaching career, let alone all in ONE year. I will tread as lightly as I can here, but suffice to say, I suffered a lot of disappointments this year. I was reminded that in many ways, education is still very much a boys' club. Male teachers are coaches, beer drinking, golf buddies, while female teachers are simply employees. Is that true at every school? Oh no, of course not, but in many schools, the ability to coach football is held above the ability to teach well, and short of growing an extra appendage, there's not a thing I can do to compete with that. I've also been reminded that we live in a society that sets less and less boundaries for our children, one that is so afraid of the word lawsuit that instead of punishing kids for missteps, we come quite close to rewarding them.

I know this all sounds terribly cynical and negative, but if you know the year I've had, you'd understand. If you don't know, just trust me on this. I wish I could tell you all of these stories, but I know this isn't the domain for it.

I wish I knew where my future is. I don't want to be burned out after only four years of teaching, because retirement is a long, long way in the future. I also don't want to be unhappy in my work, but the adult side of me knows that there are bills to pay. I am hoping, desperately, that it was just this year. I've felt like I've been trudging uphill with a boulder tied to my ankle since August, and it's been painful. I don't want to feel like that. I know it's normal to complain about your job, but I don't think it's normal to feel the dread that I've felt so many mornings, to feel like you can't go through another day of work without losing your mind. And then, when you get to the point where you lose your mind, to find a complete and utter lack of support in the workplace.

There's always a light at the end of the tunnel, though, and I can see mine. Summer is here. And if next year is just as hard as this one, well, at least I'll only be there for half the year.

Sparkles

I just read a fabulous post by Lisa (who I've recently bonded with via email, in that sort of, "HELLO, where have you BEEN all of my life!?" way) about making moments matter, and it made me stop and think so much.

Have I made moments matter lately? Or have I let life lose a little bit of luster lately? I hate to say it, but it's definitely more of the latter. Last week was hard. In a way that I found myself in break down, sobbing, gasping for breath tears at three different points during the week. Once while at work, which is never fun because even though 8th graders are pretty self-absorbed, they definitely notice when your eyes are red from tears.

Despite the tears and generally wanting to bitchslap life/feeling like life was bitchslapping me, though, there have been SO MANY good moments lately. Saturday night, my girls and I threw a fabulous surprise shower for Crooked Eyebrow, because she is having a GIRL after trying for so long. Despite my almost ruining the surprise (but I can't tell you about that because I will seriously cry again) in a fit of pregnancy brain, it went off without a hitch, and she was most definitely surprised and glowing with happiness. Go look at Beth's blog to see how gorgeously glowing and happy CE was. And oh, also look at those cupcakes I bought. Like Beth said, I should always be in charge of desserts for parties because I know my desserts.
I also got my first set of maternity photoshoot prints, and I keep looking at them and thinking, "Is that me? That's not really me!"

Lately, I feel like our house has been in upheaval. I have somewhere around 80 projects going on at once, which is not conducive to productivity. I also have a million appointments that I made thinking I'd be done with school by now, but HAHA, I'm not done until Thursday (see: life bitchslapping me). I am majorly in the midst of moving Luke into our guest bedroom and getting his old room ready for the baby. We thought it'd be mostly ready for the baby because we don't really have to change anything, but last month, his crib was recalled (seriously life, give a girl a break!), so we're now in the midst of dismantling his old crib to get a voucher for a new crib. The crib isn't a huge deal because Luke was six months old before he even slept in his, but still, it'd be nice to have it done just in case.
Anyway, we have moved Luke into his new racecar bed, which has been interesting to say the least. He goes between loving it and hating it. At night, Shane and I sit next to his bed for ten minutes and talk to him, then we say good night and let him fall asleep. Honestly, it's been an extra ten minutes, but it has been so sweet. Luke talks gently, and I lean against Shane while he rubs my stomach and feels the baby move. It's been the most beautiful part of my days and has kept me so grounded. And when I awoke in the middle of the night last night to a two year old climbing all ninja-like into bed next to me, I didn't take him back to his room like I knew
I should have. Instead I smelled his sweet hair, and this morning, when he was giggling deep belly laughs in his sleep, I laid there and watched him, even though I knew I'd be late for work.

Tonight I have to go to the dentist, and although you may not think there's anything good in that, there is. See, my dentist's office is located across from a place that makes the world's best frozen yogurt. It is SO good. And yes, it's completely counter-productive to go to the dentist, then go get sweets, but I play by my own rules when it comes to sweets. Even in the midst of all the time spent wanting to beat my head into a wall, there is so much good in everything. Sometimes you just have to look a little harder to find it, but it's there.

Uprinting Poster Winner

Congratulations to Keely, the winner of my poster giveaway, chosen by random.org! Make sure you check back in and let me know how your gorgeous poster print turns out! For those of you struggling with Father's Day shopping, remember LargeFormatPosters.com can help you with a variety of printing needs.

Great and Eight

I have two fabulous things to talk about today. Wait, THREE! First of all, did you know that today is National Donut Day? And if you go to Dunkin Donuts and buy a drink, you get a FREE DONUT. Lest you think Dunkin Donuts is paying me to tell you this, I just want you to know that they're not. I just really, really love donuts. So much that I ate three this morning, all Boston Kreme, each one better than the last.

____________________
The next fabulous thing I want to talk about is Diane Birch. She was brought to my attention by the fabulous Arianne, and I'm so glad to discover her (Diane, not Arianne. Although, let's be honest, I was thrilled to discover Arianne, too!). What I love about Diane Birch is the feeling in her words, the emotions behind everything she sings. I love the thought of finding that much passion in your work. Love it!
I encourage you to love it, too, and I'm really excited to share with you a little something called Discover & Donate. If you discover Diane's debut album (and trust me, you WANT to do this), S-Curve records will donate $1 to one of six wonderful charities. I chose Susan G. Komen For The Cure because I know so many women who have been affected by breast cancer, and it means so very much to me.



____________________
Finally, one of my favorite girls Darcie (who I love and will someday hug and drink margaritas with) tagged me for this meme.

8 Things I’m Looking Forward To:

1. The end of the school year!!
2. Seeing my girls tomorrow
3. Having a BABY in JULY
4. Finding out if this is a boy or girl baby
5. Not teaching again until January
6. Our fourth wedding anniversary
7. Eating another donut!
8. Seeing Luke as a big brother

8 Things I Did Yesterday:

1. Ate a totally awesome hot dog for lunch
2. Worked out for 40 minutes
3. Thought about tearing out my hair several times throughout the day
4. Ate dinner with my parents
5. Tweeted
6. Continued to work on putting Luke's new room together
7. Took apart the desktop computer to move out of Luke's room
8. Set up a train set

8 Things I Wish I Could Do:

1. Sleep
2. Be a stay-at-home mom
3. If not #2, then makeup full-time
4. Buy a new post-baby wardrobe
5. Travel a bit before the baby comes
6. Make my 8th graders understand how they can be the most hurtful people in the WORLD
7. Not have bags under my eyes
8. Drink a lot of beer

8 Shows I Watch:

1. Desperate Housewives
2. Scrubs
3. Um, that's it. I don't really watch TV.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.

8 Favorite Fruits:

1. Strawberries
2. Blackberries
3. Watermelon
4. Plums
5. Bananas
6. Oranges
7. Apple mangoes, which I've only ever had in Belize and thus don't eat often
8. Blueberries

8 Places I’d Like To Travel To:

1. West. Anywhere West
2. Belize, again
3. France
4. Somewhere with a beach... not picky
5. Italy
6. Greece
7. Alaska
8. Africa

8 Places I’ve Lived:

1. Northwest Indiana
2. Bloomington, IN
3. Yeah, that's it. I'm lame
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.

8 People I’m Tagging:

Anyone who wants to do this!

You Capture: Feel

I wasn't quite sure what to do for this week's you capture, until I accidentally took this photo. I was trying to take a photo of my baby bump, and instead, I ended up getting myself all blurry and covered up with the flash. It was crooked and blurry and looked more like I was trying to take a picture of this art print.

 

But I like it, because what do I want to feel when I look into my eyes every morning? I want to feel hope, like the print says. I want to see hope and live hope and give hope. Somehow, by sheer accident, I captured what I so desperately want to feel, even, especially on the mornings when life seems a little crooked, a little blurry, and I just can't seem to get it right.

Chin Up, Belly Out

Today is grey, cold, and rainy. The weather was the same eight years ago. I remember going to Shane's house, and then I went to work. Oh, how I wish I hadn't gone to work that night. I almost called off, too. I remember just feeling off and thinking that I wanted to stay home. Maybe it shouldn't be sunny today, at least not for me.

I feel okay. Parts of my heart feel heavy, I'm quietly lost in too many thoughts, but parts feel light. Today I am wearing the new dress I bought this weekend. I felt silly buying a new dress with only six weeks of pregnancy left to go, but I'm glad I did. Today I am touching my belly more than I normally do, because it's a reminder of how far I've come. Because when I was 19, I was told that I might not be able to have children, and I swore that I would kill him if he took that from me. Instead, today I have this reminder of all that he didn't take from me.


I saw my midwife on Monday and had an ultrasound to check on the location of my placenta. Thankfully, it has moved up where it should be. Baby is head down and repeatedly kicked the ultrasound wand off my stomach. What I loved about this ultrasound was how much more the baby looked like a baby. I saw chubby cheeks and a round nose, both of which I can't wait to kiss. We still don't know what is between the legs, though I have to admit that it was hard to not have her look! Shane and I have a little bet going on because he thinks the tech let a pronoun slip, but I disagree.
I lost a pound since my last appointment, putting my total weight gained at 9 pounds. At this point with Luke, I'd gained 30 pounds. I'm thinking the difference may be all the fruit cravings this time versus the bacon cheeseburger cravings last time! My midwife is not at all concerned by the slow weight gain, as the baby is measuring only a tiny bit smaller than Luke was at this point. She said that it didn't mean I'd have a tiny baby, it just meant that I'd walk out of this skinny. I won't argue with that! Still, because I lost a pound instead of gaining, I had ice cream and pizza for dinner. In that order.
We went over my birth plan, and it made it all the more real that I'll be having this baby soon. I can't believe it! I love having the baby all to myself right now, and I'm sad to see that end... but I also can't wait to share him/her with the world.

Today I am celebrating the joy in the sadness. In sadness, I found love and joy from all of your words yesterday, and I am carrying all of it in a heart that I thought couldn't possibly grow any more. There is so much light. Tomorrow is June 4th. It's another year behind me, and there is only, always light to be found in that.

The Worstiversary

Typing this post makes my fingers want to atrophy a little bit, because I don't want to type it.

Tomorrow is an anniversary for me. It's not a pretty anniversary, not one that will ever be marked with flowers or a romantic dinner. It's one that, for the past eight years, has been marked with wishes that it will pass quickly. And oh, it gets easier every year, but I will never, ever make it through a day without thinking of what this day means. I will also never, ever spend a June 2nd not wishing and hoping that I could just go to bed and wake up on June 4th.

Eight years ago tomorrow, I was raped. As I say this, I feel so distanced from it, yet so close, too. Has it really been eight years? Did I really survive all of that? I remember the first year after, I would wake up every morning and think, "A year ago today, I was happy. A year ago today, I didn't know what it was like to live with this." EVERY day for an entire year, I woke up to that thought. In many ways, I felt like the day I was raped also the day I was born, because a new me was born. One that didn't laugh as much, one that didn't trust as much, and one that sometimes thought about what it'd be like to go to sleep and never wake up.

Last week, I drove past the place where it happened. It's been years since I last passed it, but my throat still swelled up into a lump that was hard to swallow, and I could picture it so vividly, as if it were yesterday.

But I don't want to talk about that. What I want to talk about is what I did on the second anniversary of the day I was raped. I threw myself a party. Yes, a party. I sent out invitations to everyone who was there for me throughout this journey. I said on the invitation that it was to celebrate surviving and thriving. I remember when I told my mom what I wanted to do. She didn't question it. She didn't say that it was an ugly thing to celebrate. She understood my need to make this good, my need to make this light. And maybe she had that need, too. My mom made food and bought drinks. My dad grilled. And people came. Oh my, SO many people came, some from nearby, some driving hours. Friends, family, people who deserved a party of their own, truly. I ate too much, I drank too much, and I LAUGHED. The reason for the party was there, over us all, and I wished in the bottom of my heart that I wouldn't have a need for such a party. I did, though, and in its pain and ugliness, it was beautiful. It was a big, in your face to the depression and sleepless nights, a big in your face to HIM. I remember staying up late, laughing around a fire, sneaking off into the darkness with Shane like we were teenagers (and believe me, that was the biggest in your face... because no matter what this man stole from me in one single act, he never stole my ability to separate the passion I felt for Shane), having six people crashed on the floor of my parents' house by the time we finally turned in, waking up to my mom and sister making breakfast, and love. SO MUCH LOVE that even today, six years later, my heart still swells when I think of it.

I learned so much from what happened to me. I learned not to trust so easily, I learned the true depths of darkness and depression, but I also learned the importance of celebrating life. I learned that the contrast between sorrow and happiness can some times be closer than you think, that the love of friends and family can heal you better than any medicine, and that it's okay to throw yourself a party because sometimes, you deserve it.


I don't know how tomorrow will go for me. Maybe I'll make it through the day without a single tear, and that'll be something else to celebrate, but I do know that I'll carry with me those memories of six years past and find strength within all of them.