Our Family

"Anyone can show up when you're happy. But the ones who stay by your side when your heart falls apart. They are your true friends." ~ Brigitte Nicole

People often say that the worst times of your life is when you find out who your friends really are. Now while I don't feel that having Evie was the worst time of my life, it was undoubtedly scary and hard and heartbreaking along with being joyful and full of love.

When Evie was born, our people rallied. It is not something I will never forget. When Ben and Rob left me at the hospital to drive to SLC to be there with Evie, I sat alone in my room. I was scared, just had major surgery 15 hours earlier, and trying to wrap my head around what was happening. Let's not forget the hormones and all other lovely physical, mental, and emotional changes that come with childbirth. I'll spare the details here. You're welcome.

By my next phone call with Rob, I knew my mom was flying to SLC the next morning and would meet me there. My sister-in-law Shannon and my mother-in-law Sue were flying in from Texas and California respectively to pick me up and bring me to SLC. After all, I was in no condition to drive that 4 1/2 hours, especially since pain medication would likely be needed and would definitely knock me out. I am so grateful for them and to them.

Despite the constant check-ins by the nurse that night, it was a lonely ride on an emotional rollercoaster from hell. Our crew rallied though. We had this amazing family we built in Utah. Most of them were other helicopter pilots and fellow veterans that worked with Rob, and significant others and kids if they had them. Ethan is one of them and also Rob's best friend. They met at the start of flight school, and he would come over on Tuesday nights for a home-cooked meal and studying. After a few larger group gatherings at our house for Memorial Day and July 4th celebrations, our group grew and we began doing big dinners on Sundays. Eventually our group grew to 10 adults and 4 kids. It was quite a housefull, but we did it more often than not. I enjoyed it. I got to try out a bunch of new recipes and bake some yummy new things. They were my guinea pigs and never complained. Thanks, y'all.

That night, alone in the hospital they started showing up for me. In two waves, Ethan and Lily and Trey and Amanda came to see me. They certainly didn't have to, especially that late at night. They did anyway. I know I cried into shoulders and told them what I could. I've often wondered how I looked to them, not to be judgmental toward myself, but what do you say to a mother in that position? They were there and they hugged me. They listened to my sobs and the fear I shared with them. Most importantly while they were there, I wasn't alone. We also had a big group text that was typically reserved for all things Sunday dinner: menu, attendance, etc. For the next few weeks, it was going to be full of check-ins and updates. Thank you all, so much.

My friend Tanzynn came to pick me up from the hospital the next day. She and I worked together at the time. She was the equine director and we ran therapy groups together. She is quite a bit younger than me and doesn't have kids. When I was pregnant, I'd joke about making her feel my belly when Evie kicked. She'd get all squirmy and squeamish, and it would make me laugh. So naturally, I'd "threaten" to do it periodically, just because she got so squirmy. She was the first friend I told about the pregnancy. We were sitting on the metal steps in the courtyard of the ranch, watching a bunch of kids learn a new dance. She was so excited for me, even though the whole moving baby thing was alien to her.

When she picked me up, she had a Tropical Smoothie cup in hand for me. This, my dear, is one of the many reasons we're friends! We often grabbed smoothies for each other or coffees or whatever when one of us left the office during the work day. She took me to the pharmacy to get my meds, and drove extremely carefully over the sketchy Utah roads to my house. She did everything I needed in that moment. She unloaded all of my junk from her car and brought it in for me. I was so grateful she was there. I don't know if I told her enough at that time or if I was just so hyperfocused on getting to SLC that I was in robot mode. For someone so removed from parenthood, she was there and willing to do whatever I needed. I am still so grateful for her friendship.

When it was all said and done I had just a few minutes alone before Shannon and Sue arrived to take me north. I stood in Evie's room and looked at everything. I grabbed some of her clothes and things I thought would help. I had no idea what to bring. I updated my bag too, expecting to be there for a couple of days. I loaded my meds, all the lovely post-birth niceties, and my stretchy pants. I fed our dog Emmit, who was going to be cared for by Ethan while Rob and I were gone. At times I wanted to cry. I wanted to cry because I didn't know what I needed to bring. I wanted to cry because my body hurt. I wanted to cry because my arms ached to hold my babies. I wanted to cry because I was so worried about what was to come. I couldn't cry. No really, it wasn't happening. My brain was focused on getting there. I just needed to get there.

My Mama. Where do I even begin? She was already at the hospital when I got there. If memory serves, she was in the cafeteria with Ben, since he couldn't go into the NICU. She stayed with me day in and day out for the next two weeks. She drove as gently as she could on the potholed roads of Salt Lake City. She wheeled me up to the NICU for days when I wasn't healed enough to walk longer distances. She held Evie when I pumped. I swear that kid only got put down when we'd leave at night to get some sleep. She bonded with Evie and it made my heart so happy. Oma and her little Dollbaby.

She listened to my cries, my fears, and bore the brunt of my lose-my-crap moments when the pot finally boiled over. One night in the hotel room, I remember tearfully asking her not to take my lose-my-crap moments personally as they were not at all about her. I knew I wasn't okay. I knew I was a volatile emotional mess, especially after a day in the NICU. The weirdest thing was that I felt so much calmer all day at the NICU, but after we left it's like the dam broke. I wouldn't realize how much had to come out until we'd left the hospital. Sometimes I beat myself up for leaving at night, but I also made myself a promise to let my body rest and heal, and that is how I managed to do that. Food, a shower, and bed. Let's not forget multiple pumping sessions... but still. Mama took it all and stayed patient with me. I know now that it must have taken all she had, but she was and still is a mama taking care of her baby. Just like me.

Shannon and Sue met and snuggled Evie and spent time hanging out with Ben. They took him out for fun and I know he needed that. They went back to Cedar with Rob and Ben on Sunday, giving my guys the support I know they needed. Two mamas being mamas when I couldn't be. Thank you both so much.

My dad hauled a travel trailer to Cedar from Oklahoma so my parents could stay a few weeks and help us out, while also making sure we all had our space as needed. I remember his efforts to have phone calls with me. I felt so guilty because it was hard to have phone calls at that time. Texting was easier because I didn't have to worry that my voice would crack, I'd start bawling, or my trauma demon would spew all kinds of emotional nonsense. I still blamed myself so much and found myself so woefully inadequate, that I was afraid he would see that too. I couldn't handle the idea of knowing he could see it, even though that was my own trauma demon lying to me. I could put off texting when it was too much, not so much on a phone call. It was so good to see him that day we finally came home. I know Rob and Ben appreciated having him there while we were gone, too. Seeing him hold Evie for the first time, with Ben snuggled up to him, made me feel like things were going to be okay. I am so grateful for you, Dad.

For all the reasons I've already expressed, I didn't say much of anything on social media regarding her diagnosis for a long time. I would post pictures of her because I loved her and wanted to show her off to the world. I was still so proud of her, so in love with her, and in my best thinking, I was so honored and privileged to be her mom. Nowadays, that's all I feel. An absolute admiration of her and feel unbelievably blessed that she is mine. That both of those incredible creatures were sent to me, to us.

I had friends who texted to check in on her, who told me how beautiful she was, and focused on the beauty of having a new baby girl. They didn't focus on the diagnoses, the tubes and wires, or anything scary. They focused on the beautiful girl that entered our lives, and congratulated us. They welcomed her with open arms. Thank you all so much.

Our friend Summer, who is also a mom with a daughter with extra shine, has become a lifeline at times when I need it most. She's always been there to help me straighten my crown and remember that I'm Evie's mom and a bad-ass, and I've got this. I think sometimes how I wish I could've been more supportive to her when she became a special-needs mama. It's good to have that extra connection.

Alisha and her sweet family came over with dinner when we were ready for company. I'll tell you something, that was the best fried chicken I'd ever had. When you need comfort food, it's hard to beat that Southern staple when it's served up with all that love. Thank you all!

There is so much gratitude in my heart for the people that rallied in so many different ways. To all of those mentioned here specifically, and the many others who offered encouragement, love, support, and gushed over our sweet girl, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I will never forget what you did for me, for us.