They Say It Comes in Threes

I rang in 2016 surrounded by friends. Life seemed so blissful. I had a wonderful husband, I was expecting a baby to arrive in July, I had a great job; my fairy tale seemed to be coming true. I put the ultrasound picture up on Facebook on the first day of the new year. I was so touched that so many people were excited for the new addition to the family. 2016 was going to be the best year.

On January 6, I went in for my 12 week check up but my sweet baby was found lifeless inside.

On January 7, I received news that my grandfather passed away, somewhat unexpectedly.

2016 had started out so bright but suddenly became the most trying year of my life.

As the year went on I did my best to recover, to pick up the broken pieces and move on. Just when I started to get a handle on things, in late September...

Cancer. My mom had cancer. Sarcoma. Rare and very aggressive. My world shattered. My mom is my best friend. The future became so unknown and I was terrified.

They say it comes in threes. I thought my burdens were heavy enough that life would settle for giving me two. But here it was, the third blow.

I think much clearer on paper, so I decided to write a poem:

They say it comes in threes

But somehow I thought it would be different for me

The blows I suffered seemed so much harder to bear

How silly of me to think I was the exception to Life being unfair

One paralyzing loss got swallowed up by another,

I started to break and I didn’t think I could recover.

But piece by piece with gentle care

My loved ones helped mend each tear.

I steadied myself, took a deep breath, and brushed the dust off my knees

Why, oh, why didn’t I believe them when they said it comes in threes?

When I heard the news it stopped my world from spinning, I was shattered to the core

My eyes welled up with tears, I didn’t know how to breathe anymore.

I could see the fear in your eyes, I heard the doubt in your voice, yet you didn’t skip a beat,

You dried your tears, put up your chin, and I knew you would not accept defeat.

“I didn’t have an excuse to stop living life this morning, what excuse do I have now?”

I am amazed you have the courage to smile in the face of fear, I hope someday you’ll teach me how.

You have taught me that heartache and sorrow are no match for the peace the Savior brings,

Through his atoning sacrifice we have the promise of better things.

The scriptures, prayer, and priesthood blessings is where true power starts

Through them, Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit calm my tortured heart.

When life is overwhelming we have been given tools such as these...

I guess that is what they really mean when they say it comes in threes.

Everything Has Changed

November 9, 2015 changed my life; I looked at that faintly positive pregnancy test for almost an hour while crying tears of joy and surprise and confusion. My husband wasn't home but he knew I was going to be taking a pregnancy test as I was overdue for a period by almost 2 weeks. I called him.

 "Are you sitting down?" I asked.
"Are you really??" he exclaimed.
"I think I am." I cried happily.

Our little family of 2 was unexpectedly turning into a little family of 3. 

Everything had to change: Our plans for where to live, how to spend vacation time, how much to put into savings. It certainly wasn't what we were planning on but we were going to make it work as best we could.

I went to my first appointment on December 9, 2015. 

I had an ultrasound on December on December 17, 2015. Our surprise bundle of joy would arrive on July 23, 2016. We were so excited.

On January 1, 2016 we announced on Facebook,

I excitedly looked forward to my next appointment; I couldn't wait to listen to my little baby's heartbeat! Everything would become so much more real! My appointment was set for January 6, 2016, 3 days before my 12 week mark. 

The day came! I could hardly stand waiting for work to be over. I chatted with my coworkers about how excited I was that I had reached 12 weeks! This was it! I was really going to have a baby!

My husband picked me up from work and we both went to the appointment, 

The doctor was running behind by about 45 minutes. Stephen waited patiently. I wasn't as patient, I checked the time constantly.

Finally we were shown back. The nurse did a urine test and told me everything looked good. Our doctor's assistant came in and said she would be taking care of us, which was fine, I didn't really care who helped me hear the heartbeat, I just cared that I heard it.

"Everything looks good! Lets take a listen, shall we?" 

At last! This is what I had been waiting for!

I laid back and let the doctor use a small tool to listen, I could hear every movement inside my body and she moved the device over my abdomen. I waited to hear the tiny, rapid, heartbeat I had read about. 

"Hmm... Has anyone told you that you have a tilted uterus?"
"Um... no. But does that explain why you can't find anything so far?"
"That can certainly be why. You are also pretty early, so what I am going to do is order an ultrasound so we can take a peek and see what is going on."

We were led to a dark room with an ultrasound machine. The machine seemed old, the picture on the screen was pretty fuzzy. She studied the screen as she moved the probe around.

"Hmm.... I can't get any definitive heartbeat. I am going to ask the doctor what he would like to do. He may want to take a look himself or he may want to send you up to the hospital and have you do an ultrasound up there, they have much better machines up there."

My heart began to sink and my eyes welled up with tears.

"Hey," Stephen said calmly as he squeezed my hand "everything is going to be OK, you saw the screen, no wonder she couldn't get anything definitive!"

I tried my hardest to take a deep breath and dry my eyes. 

My doctor came in and told me he was going to take a look but they also called the hospital to have an ultrasound set up. He studied the screen.

"I don't see a heartbeat." He said. "However, this machine is not the best for detecting heartbeats this early on. I am not going to lie to you, this could be a miscarriage. I have had it happen before where we don't find anything on here but when they are checked at the hospital they find a heartbeat right away. I don't want to give you false hope, but I also want to let you know it is possible that everything is fine."

Stephen drove to the hospital as I sat quietly crying in the passenger seat. 

The ultrasound tech looked, I could see clearly that there was no movement. 

"I am very sorry, I don't see a heartbeat. Judging by the measurements, the fetus stopped growing just short of 9 weeks which isn't much bigger than when we had the dating ultrasound."

I sobbed. Loudly. The tech left the room to give us a moment and to call my doctor. 

Stephen held me tight and I soaked his shirt with tears. He comforted me and told me that he loved me and that we could get through this together.

A man came in and introduced himself as the radiologist and asked if he could take a look. All I could think was "don't make me watch that again." But part of me hoped that everyone else was wrong so I let him do yet another ultrasound. 

Again, I was told I has miscarried my baby.

On January 8, 2016 I had a D&C to remove the fetus. 

November 9, 2015 changed my life. January 6, 2016 changed it right back.

Stephen and I have gone from be ecstatic, nervous, excited, relieved, devastated, and so much more from the time we found out we were pregnant to when we lost our sweet baby. We will not forget. We can't. We have each other and I thank God everyday that I found such a sweet, caring, strong, compassionate man. We will be parents someday, and hopefully someday soon, but for now I have him and he has me and that is all we need. 

The Little Engine That Got Derailed

 One of my favorite stories as a child was about a little train. This little train was viewed by some as small, helpless, and unable to do big or hard things; However when the time came to accomplish the task, it was the little engine that triumphed while those who mocked her realized they had been wrong. 

 I am the baby in my family; Being the youngest, I am very spoiled (spoiled, not snooty) I have been blessed to always have what I need. I was raised in a beautiful home in a safe neighborhood. I had good friends with standards similar to mine. I went to good schools, I got good grades, and for the most part, everything seemed to go my way. Some might say I had a very easy life, and I guess you would be right. 

 Shortly after I turned 19, I met, fell in love with, and married the love of my life. All throughout the engagement, I had people telling me how hard marriage would be. I was constantly reminded that I would be the provider and it would be a hard adjustment. All I could think of was the little engine. I knew I could do it. I would silently encourage myself with "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can."

 Married  life was no doubt a big change from being in my parents house. I had so much more responsibility and it was a bit of a shock at first but as the months passed I adjusted and adapted. I began to feel so proud of myself, I was doing a hard thing and I seemed to be doing it pretty well. 

 I have learned never to become comfortable with life, the second you get comfortable, life throws you a curve ball. After working out the kinks of the first few months of marriage, things began to seem routine. Everything worked very smoothly. Then one day, I was heading up to the University to pick up my husband from school when I rear-ended a car. 

 The accident was not bad, both cars dove away and no one was seriously hurt. The day after the accident, I went to the ER to make sure everything inside of me was as good as the outside. It was determined that I had a concussion and that I should stay away from computer screens for about a week. At the time, my job involved pretty much nothing but computer screens. I had to be medically excused from work for almost a week. 

 After returning to work, I was ready to get this "bump in the road" behind me. I did my best to return to work as normal. Soon enough, I felt impressed to get a second job to help supplement my income. I applied and was hired to work part-time at a daycare. 

 Working two jobs was definitely an adjustment. It made for a very long day going straight from one job to the other. I worked about 10-12 hours a day, 5 days a week. Though it was hard, I remembered the little train and would chant in my head "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can."

 It was not long before the bigger work load took a toll on my health. I began becoming sick to my stomach and throwing up frequently, almost daily. Just as things started to get back to normal, life decided to throw me a curve-ball. 

 The constant sickness made it hard for me to attend the early work hours at the call center. I burned through my sick days very quickly and it was making my managers' and coworkers' penitence run thin. The daycare that I had been working at part-time offered me a full-time position as they were very understaffed. After a lot of prayer and thinking, I decided to leave my call center job and accept the full-time position at the daycare. 

 I knew that it would not be easy to leave the call center. I contacted management to give my 2 weeks notice and was told that they did not want my 2 weeks because they decided to fire me instead.

 I was surprised and a little hurt that after putting in over a year of good work for a company that they would just dismiss me like that, but I already had another job in place. I chugged along saying "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can."

My full time employment at daycare lasted for a month. Today, I was called into the office and told that I was not what they had hoped I would be. Through the brief observations they had made while passing my classroom they decided I was not a good fit and they were letting me go. 

I was shocked. I knew I had not been perfect and there were things I needed to be better about, but I had not been given any formal write-ups. I felt I was starting to get the hang of things. I was confused that I was not even given the chance to make a change for the better.

As I walked out of the building, all I could think was "I thought I could. I thought I could. I thought I could." I sat in my car and I cried. 

 What was I supposed to do? I don't have a job. I need a job! I was numb. I felt empty. I thought I could be an adult. I thought I could be a good wife. I thought I could help provide. "I thought I could. I thought I could. I thought I could."

 I sought the comfort of my friends. I spend the afternoon crying and venting. I thought "If I hadn't rear-ended that car all those months ago.." or "If I had just buckled down and worked through the sickness.." etc. I was devastated that I could be derailed so easily.

 I felt so angry. I was angry at myself. I was angry at the daycare. I was just angry.

 After crying and blaming and my friends consoling me for a good 3 hours, a little voice inside me said "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can."

Life is definitely not what you expect it will be. Jobs are lost, bridges are burned, decisions don't bring the desired result. I believe that the experiences we have in this life are part of a bigger picture. I know things will get better and I with the help and support of my friends, family, and Savior, I can be The Little Engine That Could. 

Because: "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can."

People May Not Tell You...

Even after being married for close to 6 months, I still consider myself and Stephen "newlyweds." I am pretty I will consider us newlyweds until we have children. The reason for that could be because we got married so young, or maybe it is because sometimes it still is almost a shock to look down at the ring on my finger. As I look back on the past 6 months, I am amazed how much I have grown as a person, but I am also very aware of all the growth that is still to come. I am not going to pretend to be an expert on marriage, but I do want to share a little bit of what some people may not tell you about marriage. 

This may not be the case for everybody, in fact I wouldn't be surprised if  my situation was somewhat strange to many people. Before I was married, I had never lived on my own before. I didn't worry about paying for rent, groceries, utilities, insurance, etc. The most I had to pay for was gas money. I lived in a nice house with my parents and brother. Everything I was earning from my job was going into spending money for whatever I wanted. (I realize that makes me seem like a COMPLETE spoiled brat, hopefully most people know me well enough to know that I didn't let that get to my head too much.)

As you can imagine, moving out of the house where I had grown up- to a small apartment it a different city was a bit of a shock. Suddenly my money wasn't just my money anymore; My money was now rent, gas, utilities, groceries, phone bills, laundrymat money, and insurance. My money became our money. 

I had never shared a bed with a man before. If I toss and turn and fidget during the night, I was no longer the only person to lose sleep. (Although, Stephen is a narcoleptic so it doesn't phase him as much as I feared.) I had been told by quite a few people that I snore pretty loud during the night, (my nephew told me on a scale of 1-10, I was a 9. He wanted to say 10 but he didn't want to be rude.) but I had never been in the position that someone woke me up to have me turn on my side to make the snoring stop.

Everyone has disgusting habits that they try to hide from the world, but when you and another person are living in a small, 1 bedroom apartment, those habits are impossible to hide anymore. 

Every decision you make now affects another person. 

You have to start picking your battles.

You have twice the laundry and dishes to do. 

The past 6 months have been the most stressful, crazy, hard, painful, confusingly wonderful, fantastic, educational, loving, and all around amazing 6 months of my life so far.

People may not tell you that you will want to steal a moment for yourself only to find that once you are alone, you miss the person that was driving you crazy. 

People may not tell you that sometimes you will want to throw in the towel or that you'll  need to walk away from a fight to clear your head. 

People may not tell you that you will fight over little things you never thought you would fight over. 

People may not tell you that you suddenly have an entire other family to consider during the holiday seasons. He has spend every holiday with his family up until that point and you have spend every holiday with yours. 

People may not tell you all the small things about marriage that end up being the hardest; but people may also not tell you all the little things about marriage that end up being the best.

People may not tell you how wonderful it is to wake up to the person you love every morning. 

People may not tell you how nice it is to have someone there for you when you get home after a long day at work.

People may not tell you that a hug from that special someone will seem to be the only thing that will keep you sane in the hectic world we live in.

People may not tell you how special you will feel when the person you love kisses your forehead when you are sick. 

People may not tell you that their favorite color has become the color of their loved one's eyes.

People may not tell you a lot of things about marriage. Maybe they will. I have learned and grown so much over the past 6 months and I am so excited to see what the future has in store for The Petersens! 

An Anticlimactic Adventure, But An Adventure Nonetheless!

When I say "I witnessed a robbery." People assume that it was some intense stand off with a gun pointed at the cashier. Allow me lower your expectations right here. If you have expectations about an epic tale of greed, tension, and bravery, you will be extremely disappointed. It was an anticlimactic adventure, but it was an adventure nonetheless!

 It was a Tuesday; The work day had completely drained me. I was ready to just go home and relax for the night.

After work, I drove up to the University campus to pick Stephen up from his last class of the day. As I waited for him, I made a mental note to stop by the store one the way home for some feminine hygiene products; "Auntie Flow" had made an unexpected visit and I was running low on necessities.  

Once I saw Stephen approaching the car, I got out of the drivers seat, greeted him with a kiss, gave him the keys, and plopped into the passenger's seat. The mental note I had just made was immediately archived as Stephen and I talked about our days. 

We arrived back at our apartment at quarter to eight. I slumped down on the couch and watched Netflix while Stephen worked out. (Perfect representation of our personalities, right there.) The archived mental note I had make while waiting for Stephen suddenly came into my head. 

"Honey, we need to go to the store." I announced. 

"Uh... can you go by yourself?" Stephen replied.

I made a pouty face.

"I'm a big girl! I can do stuff by myself, I just don't want to."

Stephen laughed and agreed to come with me. 

By the time we got in the car is was 9:45. We decided just to go to the Walgreen's down the street. 

When we entered the store, I went straight to the feminine hygiene aisle. Stephen suddenly realized why I needed a late night grocery run. I grabbed what I needed and went to checkout.

There was a single register open. The cashier was a young, timid, dark haired girl. The man in front of us was trying to dictate which pack of cigarettes he wanted. 

"It's looks like that one," he pointed behind her.

"...but it is that color." He pointed to another pack. 

"But it is that brand!" He directed again.

The young cashier seemed flustered as she tried to figure out what he wanted. 

I stood there, awkwardly holding the large box of tampons. Stephen was flipping through magazines.

Finally the man decided on which brand he wanted. It was a large carton of cigarettes. The cashier rang up the total.

"Oh, I don't think I have enough." He said. He picked up the cigarettes and walked out the door.

I assumed he was going to get more money from his car, it didn't register to me that he would just walk out without paying; Especially with witnesses and cameras that saw him. 

The cashier ran after him. By this time there were 3 other parties in line waiting for checkout. 

A few minutes passed. We all were just waiting, twiddling our thumbs, wondering what happened. Suddenly we heard the sobbing cashier come back into the store.

"We were robbed!" She cried;  mascara streaming down her face.

"We we've just been robbed and he tried to hurt me." 

The man that was working at the photo center in the store ran to her. He walked her to the employee lounge where she called the police. 

"Did anyone see what happened?" The man asked when he came back out.

"I saw what happened in here, but not anything that happened outside." I answered. 

"Would you mind waiting here until the police come and filling out a witness statement?"

"No problem." I said, still a little stunned at the situation.

I glanced over at the cash register. I noticed for the first time that the robber's total was over $500. He had everything from beer to crayons rung up and he only took cigarettes. 

10 minutes after the robbery, the man at the cash register finally got everyone checked out. The police arrived and went to talk to the young employee. 

After another 10 minutes, the male employee working the cash register seemed to suddenly realize what I had purchased.

"Oh!" He exclaimed

"You probably want to get home." He said as he looked at what in the plastic bag.

"Here," He printed out a long, blank receipt. 

"...Write down your statement on here and your phone number. If the police have any other questions they can call you."

I wrote it all down. I wrote down what he looked like. Stephen also wrote down what he remembered. By the time I finally had my statement written down, the police came out to talk to us. 

At the end of it all, what had been a simple tampon run turned into a 45 minute ordeal. I don't know what happened outside the store, I don't know if he had a gun, a knife, or just his fists; I just know I'm glad I wasn't the one to run after him. I also know that I hope this was a once in a lifetime experience. 

Level Up

I remember the day I told Stephen I could see myself wanting to be by his side for eternity. It was a warm evening in the middle of October, we had been dating for just under two months. We were snuggling on a couch in his basement watching "Serenity" on his laptop; He had his arm around me, my head on his shoulder, our legs propped up on a chair with a pillow on it for comfort. The movie was far from romantic, we were not kissing or gazing into each other's eyes, I just had this peaceful feeling and I remember thinking "I wouldn't mind having this forever." 

I wanted to tell Stephen what was on my mind, but I couldn't get the words out; For some shocking reason, I was nervous to tell him that I was starting to think I could love him forever. We had said "I love you" a few weeks before, so I knew there was somewhat of a mutual feeling, but saying "I think I could love you forever" was a big jump in just a few weeks. My heart wanted to leap out of my throat. I had to tell him, I just didn't know how.

After nearly an hour of internal battle, I took the cowards way out and pulled out my phone. I text him. He was sitting right next to me and I text him the words "I could see us doing this for a long time. Like forever."
Not the most romantic words or way of saying it, but it was sent. I couldn't go back.

I studied Stephen's face as he read the text. He went from amused that I had text him instead of speaking to a "deer in the headlights" look.

He cleared his throat. I braced myself for an awkward rejection followed by him asking me to leave him alone. I expected him to tell me it was over. 

"I love you, Emma." He said.
"I love you too. I'm sorry, that was totally lame of me! I shouldn't have texted it, maybe I should have just kept it to myself. I'm so-"

Stephen interrupted my outpour of apologies with a kiss.

"I love you." He said again "I just don't know if it is forever yet. Is that ok?"

I smiled at him and said, "That is perfectly ok."

We finished the movie, kissed goodnight, and I went home. 

I took comfort in the fact that even though I had been completely childish about the whole situation, Stephen acted very mature. I didn't feel humiliated like I thought I would and I was not going home in tears. We had eventually handled everything like adults and all was well. Or so I thought. 

The next time I saw Stephen was almost a week after I dropped the "M-card." 

I drove the 30 minutes to his house, expecting everything to be fine. Little did I know he had talked to his friends who had the opinion that "a girl who drops the 'M-card' within two months of dating is way too attached and borderline creepy." They suggested to Stephen that he take a break from me and date around some more.

Lucky for me, Stephen was not interested in dating other people and took into account that all of his friends were single and had been for a while. 

We had the same conversation that we had the week before, only this time, it was awkward.

I left humiliated and angry that his friends would give that kind of advice. I wasn't in a relationship with them. They don't know the whole situation. Why should they tell Stephen to kick me to the curb? Then I realized that they were in the mentality of marriage being "Game Over."

Obviously, everything eventually worked out for me and Stephen. Our mentality about marriage was mutual; We both wanted to be married. 

The night before our wedding, I stopped by our apartment to get a few things. Stephen was there with two of his friends. The friends were glum and went silent the moment I entered the room. I grabbed what I needed and left. Later I asked Stephen what they had been talking about that made them so quiet when I came in.

"They were comparing weddings to funerals." Stephen answered. "They kept saying 'We're never going to see you again.' Basically they see tomorrow as the day they lose their best friend."

I have never felt my blood boil faster than in that moment. 

I have never seen marriage as "Game Over." Perhaps it is because I am a female and ever since I was little I dreamed about my wedding day. I don't imagine little boys do the same, but I had never heard of anyone going so far as to compare a wedding to a funeral. 

Marriage is not about what you lose, it is about what you gain. Natasha Craig wrote a phenomenal blog post: "What I Gave Up The Day I Got Married." http://www.confessionsofateenagebride.com/2014/02/10-things-i-lost-by-getting-married.html#.U9_zXPldXi0
I completely agree with that post.

Speaking for myself, the day I got married was not "Game Over." June 19, 2014 was the day I "Leveled Up."

The Reality of Mortality

 I was reminded of the chilling reality of mortality on a dreary Monday morning in late July. Mortality is a curious phenomenon. It fascinates me that something so imperative is so easily forgotten. In the business of life, we disregard the reality of its fragility until we are face to face with it. Life is powerful, wonderful, and indescribable, but most of all, life is very, very fragile.

 The morning started out as most mornings do: Stephen's alarm going off, him getting up almost immediately, and my refusal to get out of bed until absolutely necessary. I am not a morning person. I despise the sound of alarm clocks and how rudely they rip me from the serenity of sleep. (Naturally I have the 7:00AM shift. I chose that shift so I could spend more time with Stephen. Love does crazy things to us.)

 This morning was harder than usual to convince myself to leave the comfort of the soft, warm sheets. The anticipation of an overdue meeting with my manager had kept me from any sort of rest the night before. My sleep deprived eyes defiantly protested before opening to the reality of morning. I rolled to my knees and prayed for the strength to get through the day.

 I slipped on some jeans and the first clean shirt I could find, brushed my teeth, and while I was pulling my hair into a tight ponytail, I kissed Stephen "goodbye" and hurried out the door. I walked down the stairs from our second floor apartment and sleepily stumbled to my car. I knew in order to stay awake I would need some upbeat music, so I plugged in my iPod and shuffled my morning playlist.

 Driving down State Street, I saw the familiar sight of red and blue lights flashing in the distance ahead of me. I figured it was someone who was running late to work that had been pulled over. As I got closed I saw the police car was in the middle of the road facing south. As I was heading north,  I made sure no one was behind me, and I slowed down to see what had happened. I saw a slightly dented car, broken glass, the remains of a totaled motorcycle and a man laying seemingly lifeless a few yards from the wreckage.

 The accident must have just happened because there was no ambulance yet. There was no blood, but I knew there was no way someone could get away from that scene without being hurt. I saw the motorcyclist's body. He was wearing a helmet and a full riding suit. I didn't know if he was alive or dead, but I knew that his body must have been badly broken and this suit was keeping everything together. The policeman, a few pedestrians, and a woman in hysterics (I assume she was the driver of the car) crouched around the man in a semicircle but no one touched him.

 The meeting I had been worrying about all weekend completely left my mind. I was suddenly very awake as I continued to drive past the wreckage.

 I don't know if the man survived or not, but I knew whatever the outcome, all who witnessed the scene would be faced with the reality of our mortality.

As a society, we choose not to think or speak of death unless the situation demands. Everyone has differing opinions of what death entails. Some people fear death, others think of it as a new beginning, and there are some who chose to not believe in death. I believe we were born with a greater purpose than to have death be the end. I don't know when my last day on earth will be, I believe I will live to see many more adventures before then, but when eventually death does come to greet me, I imagine I will echo the words of J.M. Barrie's character Peter Pan:"To die would be an awfully big adventure."