Climbing High

For the past two years, I’ve had a daily quest of climbing the stairs to my office on the 7th floor of the High Rise. Two years I’ve done this almost every day. This walk helps me start my day warm, both mentally and physically. Stairs seem unlovable, but I truly crave this daily hike.

When I found out I was pregnant, I made a few goals for the next nine months. One was to continue climbing the stairs to the 7th floor until there was just no way. My goal was to climb until labor. For me, this activity reassures me that I can still be active. Honestly, it reassures me that with every crazy, unexpected thing that happens to my body, I’m ok. I’m still me and my body is strong, not sick. Me and this little boy are just working hard.

When I fell last week, I was distressed for a number of reasons. It hurt like mad. It still hurts like mad. But it symbolized a lot of things for me. It made me feel weak, like my body was out of control. It made me feel that I’d never be able to do the things I love, like running or climbing the stairs or getting in and out of my car easily. And in this pregnant state, it made me believe that I’d never be able to do those things ever again in the whole world as long as I live (yup, I’m pregnant and I haven’t been for a run in two weeks. That’s what happens).

I am so excited for this baby – to put my best effort into being his mom and his dad’s wife. But I am also trying to remain me. I fell, and somehow I felt that I was lost.

Until today. I made a decision. I climbed the stairs, all of them. Slowly and painfully, but I did it. It felt amazing.

I felt like me.

Best Two Years

On Monday Tyler and I celebrated being married two years exactly. So awesome to look back and realize how happy those two years have been. I really didn’t expect it to be so great. I don’t know what I expected, but I didn’t expect it to be this.

I went to a bridal shower last night and she was asked the same question I was two years ago, and gave nearly the same response. What are you most excited about about being married? She thinks the best part is being able to spend more time together and never having to say goodnight. I still think she's right. It really is one of the many "best parts."

I love Tyler because he’s the best friend anyone could have. He’s sensitive, he’s kind and he’s practical. He is willing to do anything to help. Last week he cooked every day because of my knee. Then he cleaned the floor. I’ve done the dishes a total of 10 times since we’ve been married. He’s that good.

He doesn’t like to see anyone sad. He’s absolutely hilarious. He’s a good, good person. I would rather be hanging out with him than doing anything else, pretty much always. Our kid is the luckiest child in the world to have him as a dad. And I’m the luckiest wife.

No Longer An "It"

I was so excited to go to the doctor Tuesday. So, so excited and nervous. So excited, distracted and nervous that I forgot how to walk a little bit. I walked out my office building, giddy, hit the first step just fine, then faltered. My arms were nowhere to be found (luckily – broken wrists for sure). My head was held high (another bonus). My stomach was safe (thank goodness). But my knees crushed to the pavement. Oh, how it hurt. My skirt flew over my head, my phone flew into the street. It was in a word – awesome.

I humbly righted myself and my attire. What a blessing nothing seemed broken. I picked up my phone with Tyler on the other end. I explained what had happened and walked hurriedly from the scene and the staring eyes of construction workers across the street. Then I looked down. Blood. Everywhere. Blood dripping on my boots, blood pooling down my legs into my socks. Blood on my skirt. Everywhere. I made it to the car two blocks away, stuck a few napkins on the situation and drove straight home where Tyler helped me clean up and grab about 19 band-aids.

Then we were off to a very important appointment.

And soon I forgot about the pain. Our baby is so real, so perfect and soooo BOY! The ultrasound tech started to giggle right off – she asked if we wanted to know what we were having, then said “he’s an exhibitionist.” And he pretty much was. His was folded in half with his legs clear up over his head, his arms tucked neatly, certainty of his gender completely in view. She commented on the baby’s “beautiful heart.” No cleft lip. No club feet. Everything. Is. Perfect.

He didn’t seem impacted from the fall and was only slightly active (I wish I could have an ultrasound at 8 p.m. - he goes crazy!). He even yawned a couple of times.


I don’t know anything about how to raise a boy, but I didn’t have too many ideas on raising a girl either, so we’ll learn as we go. But we are so totally stoked. Life is as it should be. Times like that make it worth it. Tyler sitting next to me, the kid in full view. Above my knees everything was right with the world.