The Family Love-In

We have a yearly family tradition that takes us to Mueller Park each fall for dinner and a spiritual thought. It started out with Dad, Mom, Me, Brooke, and Luke. We'd hike the trail to our 'secret spot' and nestle in for a night of family togetherness. Now that we've grown in numbers, it's a little more difficult to make the hike. It's also quite impossible to fit all of us in that 'secret spot'. But, the tradition must carry on. So, we adapt and improvise and now find ourselves making a fire, munching on Kentucky Fried Chicken, roasting marshmallows and singing Kumbaya. The spiritual thoughts are interjected at random moments by Dad. The kids love the fire, the parents love the outdoors, and Mom just sobs knowing that we are all together. One big happy family.

A Pile Of Leaves

Izzy loved the leaves from our big tree this year. She wanted to rake them up everyday and jump in them. I got some darling pictures of her one day when she was doing just that. Here they are!

We're Going On A Witch Hunt

It is a long standing tradition in our family (3 years now) that we attend 'Witchfest' at Gardener Village every October. Izzy fell in love with the witches the first year we took her and they fell right back in love with her. Now she dresses the part and is every bit as scary as they are! This year we went with Uncle Gus, Aunt Broodge, Gabe, Lincoln, Aunt Megz and Brocko. Next year we have planned that the mommy's will dress up too. We love it! It's always a haunting good time!

In My Darkest Hour

It all started on Scotty's birthday, November 7th, to be exact. We were out at Lone Star for dinner with the family and I just didn't feel right. I had the body aches and felt a bit out of it. I'm sure my parents thought it was a case of the 'Sunday Blues'...you know, the old 'getting sick on Saturday night so you don't have to attend church the next day' kind of thing. Well, I did not go to church the next day. In fact, I stayed in bed all day. Didn't even go to my mom's house for dinner that night. Monday I woke up with the body aches and feeling extremely dizzy. We decided it was time to go to the InstaCare...my FAVORITE place. A side note: why does the InstaCare suck so much? You wait and wait for someone to talk to. When you finally do get around to seeing a live person, it's like a guessing game for them. I swear, I could be a Dr. at the InstaCare. Just give me your symptoms and I'll make an educated guess on what you have and send you happily on your way. Anyway. This is pretty much what went down that night at the InstaCare. They swabbed me (stuck a q-tip clear down my nasal passage into my throat actually) for swine flu, wrote down my symptoms, did a chest x-ray and an EKG (because I was experiencing some chest pressure), and some blood work. An hour later, everything came back normal. There was a pending blood test however that they wouldn't have results to for a couple of hours. They told me to go home, keep taking the Tylenol and Advil, get some sleep, and wait to hear about the remaining blood tests. Gee, thanks. I needed to pay $35 for that advice?

We did go home and got into bed about 11:00. At midnight, Scott's phone rang. It was the InstaCare. One of the blood tests, the D-Dimer, was extremely elevated. Normal is 0-500. My score was 5,500. The Dr. informed us that this was life-threatening, a sign of blood clots, and that we needed to get to the ER immediately. Super. I called my mom and dad who, of course, came at a moments notice. The Dr. called back 10 minutes later to make sure we were leaving. She again told Scott that this was a critical situation and that we needed to get to the ER as soon as possible. I told him to ask her if I should just leave my sleeping kids or wait for the grandparents to show up...

We left for McKayDee shortly after midnight. I was freaking out a bit and though Scott's exterior showed a calm and collected man, I know he was scared too. I don't know what I expected when we got to the hospital. A team waiting for me. A bed to be wheeled in on. Flashing emergency lights letting our Dr. know we were there. Something. But, it was dark and eerily quiet. The attending was calm and collected. I wanted to scream at her that I could die at any moment while she sat there popping her gum and attempting to make small talk. After being checked in, I dressed in the hospital gown and the waiting began, again. The first people we saw were the phlobotomists...of course. Now look, I am not afraid of needles. I've been poked so many times in my life that I could be the poster child for pincushions. However, I have learned one thing from being poked so many times, and that is, my veins blow. They are terrible. Those special people who get the opportunity to poke at me know what I mean. Finding veins in my arms is next to impossible. I tell the phlobotomist this every time I need a blood draw. I did the same that night at McKayDee. And wouldn't you know it...she did the same thing that every other flippin phlobotomist does. She went for the arm vein. It's like they have something to prove. "Well, we'll see about that." "I'm a trained blood sucker." "I can certainly find a vein." "Sit back and watch the master at work." Whatever. So, I laid back, offered up my arm, and waited for the inevitable moment when she'd look at me and say, "You're right. You are a hard stick." This time was better than most however because not only could she not find a vein, but after 'fishing' around under the skin for a bloody half an hour, she finally hit a small vein that she tried to shove the IV into, upon which she blew out the vein entirely. Blood spurted everywhere. All over her, all over the bed, all over the floor. I almost laughed. Almost. She left in a hurry and sent someone else in to do the blood draw...from my hand...just like I'd requested in the first place. After more blood work, more X-rays, and a thorough exam (haha) from the Dr, I was declared 'fine' and 'ready to go home.' Okey-dokey.

Tuesday through Saturday are one big blur. I just know I got sicker and sicker. Wednesday the InstaCare called and wanted me to come back in for some more blood work, but I never saw a Dr. I lay in bed wondering what was going on. I was so weak and tired. Wednesday night the headaches started. I've never had a migraine, but from what I've heard, I was experiencing migraine like symptoms. My head hurt so bad. My eyes hurt. My neck hurt. And loud sound hurt. It was debilitating. My mother-in-law is a nurse at Alta View and had been checking on me daily. By Saturday she'd had enough. If this was just a virus, other family members should have gotten sick. No one else was. If it was just a virus, it should have run its course by now and I should have been feeling better. I wasn't. She called in a favor to one of her friends, Dr. Tweed, and asked him to meet us at Alta View just so he could take a quick look at me and see if he had any ideas. I had not been out of the house since Wednesday. I hadn't really been out of bed. Driving down to the hospital was terrible. I hurt so much. The light from outside was crippling. I just wanted to know what was wrong with me. Dr. Tweed took one look at me, and said I needed to get back into a hospital for an MRI and possibly a Lumbar Puncture to check for Meningitis. Awesome. I knew I should feel alarmed by all this, but my head hurt so much that I couldn't think about anything but the pain. They decided we should go to the new hospital IMC, because it had the latest and greatest state of the art stuff. I remember getting there and sitting in the lobby waiting for Scott to check me in. I had my sunglasses on and my hood up, trying to block out light and noise. I felt like everyone was staring at me. I hated that. We got checked in and finally taken back into a room in the ER. More waiting. Bobbye asked about my pain level on a scale of 1-10. I told her I was at a 32. No joke. After an hour or two we saw the Dr. on call. He ordered a CAT-scan, not an MRI, because he said the CAT-scan would be quicker and get us the results we needed faster. I just wanted something for the pain. Finally a nurse brought me in some meds. I think it brought the pain down to a 25 or so. I was just grateful for a bit of relief. Unfortunately it didn't last long. Hours later, more blood draws later, I was finally taken in for the CAT-scan. It was quick and painless. And then we waited some more. When the Dr. came back he said the blood work looked good and so did the CAT-scan. He was at a loss. He had no idea. He again said he didn't think it was Meningitis but decided he'd do the Lumbar Puncture just to rule it out since everything else was coming up negative. Having already experienced 3 epidurals, I was well aware of what to expect for this procedure. It didn't make me anymore comfortable with it however. I was at least reassured by the Dr. however because, as part of his internship he'd had to do hundreds of Lumbar Punctures. So, I wasn't dealing with an amateur here. The first thing that came out of his mouth after he'd gotten the needle and cord in place was, "Well, that's certainly interesting." Scott asked what he was doing and he explained that he was measuring the pressure of the spinal fluid. Scott explained that he couldn't see where the cut off was for my pressure. The Dr. said, "See the fluid spurting out the top? Her pressure is above the level of my manometer." He took 10cc out of my spinal fluid to be tested and then explained to us that normal pressure was 15-20. A manometer tops out at 55. My pressure was above that. What did this mean? He had no idea. He was going to page the Neurologist on call and talk it all over with him. We met with the Neurologist a while later who stated that though he did not know exactly what was wrong with me, he knew that I was very sick, and that I would not be leaving the hospital that night. And thus my darkest hours began.

It seems to me as I think back on my time in the hospital, that time moved at a snails pace. Everything was done slowly. Methodically. Precisely. I do have to give props to the attending who put my IV in at the hospital. He, the first one EVER, listened to me about my veins and but the IV in my hand. It was smooth, efficient, and nearly painless...which was good because I couldn't handle much more pain...or so I thought. I can't remember a lot about what went on Sunday through Wednesday. I do remember being surprised that I was still in the hospital...I'd never stayed in a hospital so long. I remember worrying briefly about my kids. And I remember a lot of blood draws and tests being done. I had 3 MRI's, 2 ultrasounds, and another CAT-scan. I remember being quite nervous about the MRI's because of their enclosed nature. The Dr. gave me something to take an edge off the nervousness. However, as usual, I found that the pain overruled any other emotion I had, so the nervousness
didn't last long. Everything came back negative. The MRI's looked good, the scans, the ultrasounds, the blood work, it was all clean. I was a mystery. The Neurologist brought in three other specialists to work with me. There was the Infectious Disease Specialist, the Rhumetology Specialist and Internal Medicine Specialists. Each time they'd come to visit they had these huge binders with the name WETSEL written on them. They were full of paper work, labs, results, etc, all about me. I felt like I belonged on the show House. All the Dr's were coming up blank. There best guess was Meningitis. They assumed a virus had gotten past the blood brain barrier and into the spinal column. This caused the increased pressure and intense headaches.

Up until Wednesday, I rarely opened my eyes. I could barely turn my head or lower it to my chest. I spoke only when I had to. Mostly I prayed. I prayed so many prayers that I'm sure the Lord grew weary of hearing from me. And when I wasn't praying, I was singing 'Abide With Me' over and over and over. I would not allow myself to grieve or to ask 'why me?' I knew the answer. I knew this was a trial for me and that there was no reason to ask. All I asked was that He be with me. I begged Him not to leave me alone. And He never did. These were my darkest hours. I knew I couldn't handle one more drop of pain. And with this thought came the sure knowledge that the Savior had suffered this for me. He had suffered this incredible, debilitating pain. This pain that made me unable to eat, that caused me to throw up regularly, that nearly blinded me. And here I sat, knowing I couldn't handle one more DROP of pain...but He, He handled my pain, and your pain, and all of our pains. Our physical, emotional, mental and spiritual pains. My testimony of the Atonement grew leaps and bounds in my darkest hours.


The Dr. ordered another Lumbar Puncture for Wednesday. The plan was to take out some of that excess spinal fluid and see if that would release some of the pressure and pain from my neck and head. Again, this Dr. was shocked by the level of my pressure, which was still up around 60. He drained off 32cc and sent it to be tested. Almost immediately I noticed a bit of a difference. I could open my eyes for one. I could also turn my head with just a little of discomfort. This was good news. But now the question was, how to keep the spinal fluid at an acceptable level. Spinal fluid replenishes itself just like most bodily fluids. So, my pressures would be back up shortly. If the levels kept coming up, there was talk of a possible shunt. The Dr's were also concerned about my liver count that continued to climb. A biopsy was to be scheduled for Thursday if they didn't see any changes in that count. This, of all the procedures, scared me the most. I really did not want a chunk of my liver cut out. Wednesday also marked the day that the Dr's told me if I didn't start eating food, I'd have to have a feeding tube. Really? Did they think I was honestly TRYING to starve myself? The mear smell of food made me want to vomit. But, I was bound and determined to try. After eating part of a turkey sandwich, and having it come right back up, I decided I'd try later:-) I was so tired of throwing up. Every time I did, the headache tripled in pain. Thankfully, after I'd rested all afternoon, and after having some relief (finally) from the latest Lumbar Puncture, I was able to get up and walk around the hospital floor. I was also able to eat most of a grilled cheese sandwich! It tasted like heaven:-) Things were looking up. Until that night when my IV became infiltrated and my hand grew to the size of a cantaloupe. They had to move the IV, which presented another problem. Where to put the IV when my veins were in such bad shape? I already had bruises up and down both arms and hands from where I'd been poked (including places they'd poked and failed and blown out veins). I told my RN that I was a hard stick and asked if she could send someone who was really good at placing the IV's. Let's just say that 3 nurses later, one of these nurses being the supposed 'best they had', 8 needle pokes, and 4 hours of time between midnight and four in the morning, the IV was finally placed. And my head felt like it was going to pop from the stress of it all. That was a really, really bad night.

Thursday brought good news however as we learned that my liver count had gone down just a bit. Luckily it was enough to stop the biopsy order. I was also able to eat a little more and avoid the feeding tube. And though my headache never went away, I could open my eyes and turn my head again. Thus began my slow recovery. I still had to have blood draws several times a day during the next few days as they continued to test for the cause of my afflictions. Some of the tests included HIV and TB. You can imagine my shock when the said they wanted to test for HIV. Wow.

By Sunday morning, the Dr's determined that I was well enough to go home. Hallelujah! I was discharged with the diagnosis of Viral Meningitis and Transminitis. I was also given about 40 medications to take:-) The Dr's warned me that while I was well enough to go home, I still had a long recovery ahead of me. I was just grateful to be leaving and going home to my family and children who I'd missed terribly. All in all, I got out of the hospital with about 32 blood draws, 3 MRI's, 2 Ultrasounds, 3 X-rays, 1 CAT scan, and 2 Lumbar Punctures...not to mention having been tested for over 100 viruses.

During my stay I knew things were bad. I knew that my family and loved ones were very worried. I learned some of my closest loved ones had made tentative preparations for taking over the care of my children should I pass on. But not until I was home and recovering did I learn of my moms, my aunts, and my sisters extreme fear that I was going to die. I was very aware that my life was in my Fathers hands while in the hospital. I was even aware that I might not ever leave the hospital. But I distinctly remember one night during my pain and haze, having the thought come to me "Choose to live." And I did. I tried my hardest to be positive in my mind. I tried not to question my Heavenly Father as to why this was happening to me. I tried not to whine and beg. I knew this trial was for me. I knew it was a test of my faith. And I knew, if my faith was strong enough, that my Savior would deliver me. He did.

It's been nearly 8 weeks now since my first symptoms. I wish I could say it's all been smooth sailing. I had to return to the hospital for a blood patch when we learned that the last Lumbar Puncture hadn't sealed properly. I also had to get back on the medication that makes everything I eat taste like metal and makes drinking carbonation impossible. About a week after I got home I lost some hearing in both my ears and got a terrible ringing noise instead. We learned that hearing loss is quite common with Meningitis patients. Thankfully most of the hearing has returned. Now if the ringing would just leave:-) And the headaches, though now on a much lesser scale, are still plaguing me. But even those are tolerable and something I'm simply learning to deal with. I won't complain. I feel so blessed. Our family has had so many angels who have stepped in and taken over where I couldn't. We had family in our home for the first month, taking care of our kids. We had meals brought in from the Relief Society for 5 weeks. We experienced the miracle of hundreds of prayers being offered up just for us. And we had others offer their time, talents, means, and skills to bless our lives. It truly has been life altering, life changing.

And so, out of my darkest hours, came a great deal of light. A great deal of understanding. A great deal of peace. A great deal of hope. I have felt my Saviors love. I have a much greater understanding of His sacrifice for us. I thank Him for sparing my life, for giving me another chance to prove myself to Him. He has saved me and I will sing His praises all my days.

Halloween Spooks

Halloween has never been one of my favorite holidays. However, i have to admit that having children has changed that...a lot. In fact, i would dare say that Halloween ranks up in my top three holidays now. I know, i know. There really aren't THAT many holidays to choose from. But, top three is better than dead last, right? But alas, i digress.

So, yesterday was Halloween. We spent the morning in Orem watching our cousins complete a half marathon. Why anyone in their right mind would choose to run, let alone run a half marathon, is beyond me. But we are, if nothing else, a supportive family. So, we showed up to cheer the cousins on. They did great. Aside from my children getting off of their schedules, which makes mommy crazy, it was a fun morning.

By the time we got home, Izzy was more than ready for the Halloween festivities to begin. She had been able to wear her 'Belle' costume twice already, and had LOVED being that princess. She couldn't wait to get into that baby again! And so the preparations began. Hair curled, the 'Belle bump' (her bun) in place, make-up applied, and the finally, dress adorned. Left to admire herself in the mirror, she was now content for a bit while i dressed the rest of us. Jace was easy. Zip that froggy cosutme up and go. And now we had the princess and the frog. Cute. I know. Scotty was a biker dude. This was really nothing out of the ordinary for him. In fact, he was worried no one would think he was even dressed up. But, he did look rather tough in his bandana, tat sleeve, spiked braclet, and leather jacket. This just left mommy to get ready. My she-devil costume consisted mainly of lots of eye make-up and a wig with horns. Add a pair of spikey earings and a bat necklace and we were ready to rock!

We headed off to have our traditional soup bowl and scone dinner at my moms house. Afterwhich we made visits to Grandma Ann, Janny, Cindy, and some neighborhood friends. Lucky for us, Izzy doesn't have the desire to trick-or-treat very long. She's just happy to wear the costume and pose for pictures. By seven o'clock we we done...'put a fork in us' done. My over stimulated, no napping, sugar high bouncing off the wall kids, were ready for a knock out. We said goodnight to everyone and headed home. After a brief, but substantial meltdown, Izzy was down for the count. All Jace wanted was some milk and some peace and quiet. And Mom and Dad? We just needed a few minutes to unwind.

It was a good day. It was a great Halloween. Let's do it again next year.

Rollin'. Rollin'. Rollin' With the Hommies.

Jace is a big boy. At just over four months, the little tank weights 17 1/2 lbs. I swear the kid is getting straight cream when he feeds. And he feeds often! Anyway...we keep waiting for him to roll over. Iz was rolling back and forth by now. But, she was quite a bit smaller too. Well, the other day, to my complete amazement and shock, he rolled. Hasn't done it since, but hey, it'll come! Here are some pics i got of the big moment.


I think I'll give this rolling over business a try!



Look at me mom! I'm getting it!


Mission accomplished.
Time to rest.
I'm out.

A Camping We Will Go?

I. Am. Not. A. Camper. I make no excuses nor do i try and hide this fact. I grew up in a home where camping was the equivalent of staying overnight at the Motel 8. I mean we NEVER went camping. Well, there was that one time when we took the boat out to Starvation Reservoir and Dad put up the tent for us to sleep in. I lasted about 2.5 seconds until the claustrophobia took over and i ended up in the back of the van with my mom. Seriously, the tent was closing in on me, blocking off all the air to my body. Camping. I just don't like it! I hate the bugs that inevitably end up on the inside of the tent. I hate the dirt that gets tracked all over the bedding. I hate sleeping bags...can't move in those dang things! I hate waking up in the morning and feeling like i can't move because I'm frozen in place. I hate having no where to pee or wash my face...and no, that stream just across the way WILL NOT cut it. I hate the thick coat of dust and grime that gets all over me, and having no way to get it all off.

Because i hate camping so much, it would be just my luck that I'd marry an avid camper. Scott LOVES camping for all the reasons i hate it. He is Mr. Outdoors to a 'T'. Lucky for me, and not so lucky for him, he has never pressured me into camping. Poor guy has enough gear to last him months in the outdoors and he can't even get his wife to enjoy the blasted activity. Oh well, such is life. You win some, and you loose some. He definitely lost on this one.

All this being said, you're probably wondering what in the world it took for me to agree to go on this overnight camping trip with Scott, Izzy, and Gabe. And I'll tell you. Nothing! It took nothing. I agreed to give it one last try, just to appease my husband and to make a fun memory with the kids. (Not to worry though, i already had my mind made up that i was going to hate every minute of it.) And really, how bad could one little overnighter hurt?

Scott went to the campsite early to set up the tent. I picked up the food for dinner and packed up our necessary items for the night. I think i overdid this from the look on Scott's face when he pulled up to see three duffel bags, a toilet, movies/dvd player, and enough treats to feed an army, waiting to be loaded into the trunk of our car. What? I say you can never be too prepared. Now, i have to say that i took my bad attitude with me all the way up to the campground. But, when we got there, i sort of caught the spirit of the thing. My wonderful husband had blown up our air mattress and covered it with a fitted sheet, flat sheet, down comforter, and other blankets. He'd fixed us up so we'd have power so that i could 'pump' at night. He'd even hung a light so that i could read in bed. He had the kids bed all ready to go too...complete with dvd player ready for them to watch. I have to admit, i was impressed. We ate dinner, went on a bike ride, took a walk, watched a movie, read stories, and ate candy until we were about to pop. And it was...fun.

That night as I lay looking up at the stars (because this tent has a mesh top...thus allowing PLENTY of airflow for my claustrophobia) i turned to Scott and said, "Not that I'm willing to do this all the time, but really, this isn't too bad." And really, it wasn't.

Johnny Jump-Up

Ode to Johnny

You sat in the dark, in the dust and decay,
Wondering when it'd be your time to play.
Two long years you waited around,
Hoping and wishing for that joyous sound...
The sound of people coming to find you,
To clean you all up til you shined like brand new.
This could only mean one thing!
A new child would fill your soft swing.
And who would this chubby little one be?
Who would you cradle and finally see?
A fine bouncing boy seemed just right for the task,
Now 'Johnny' would be used once again, finally, at last!
Oh Johnny how we love what you do,
You keep our boy busy, our little Jace Andrew.
For he loves to jump up and down in your seat,
He likes the lights and thinks your toys are quite neat.
So Johnny, don't you fear and don't fret,
A better toy for our Jace we haven't found yet.
So we'll keep you hanging around for a good long while
For we just love the way you make our boy smile!

Dog Days of School

Isabelle started school this year. I don't know where the time went and how it is possible that my baby is old enough to leave me for three days a week to go to school. The first day was a lot harder on mommy and daddy than on Iz...especially daddy. We both shed a tear or two as we watched her take hold of her new teachers hand and walk away from us. However, she is LOVING every minute of school. The teachers were so impressed with her vocabulary and understanding of new concepts that they moved her from the three year old class to the four year old class. I am amazed at the things she comes home to tell me everyday. She is learning and growing so much. She knows all her letters and numbers to 20. At home we are working on writing the letter and learning all the sounds. I think she's a genius, but i may be a bit biased!

Growing up, we used to have a 'fashion show' before school where we would model our new school clothes for our grandma, aunt and cousins. I thought it would be fun to continue this tradition with Iz. So, a few days before school we went over to gramma and grampas to 'mobel' (as Iz calls it) some of her new school clothes.

After these pictures, I've posted a few of her first day of school. Do you think she likes the camera?

At The Fashion Show

First Day of School

Case of the Missing Camera

So, not long after Jace was born, we went swimming over at the pool by Brookes house. I, of course, took the camera so that i could get pics of the kids. Upon leaving the pool, amidst the chaos of picking up after not one but two kids now, we left the camera. Now, we weren't really worried. Afterall, we live in Centerville, Utah, people. Everyone here is kind and caring and honest, right? WRONG! Some dirty rotten theif stole our camera! We posted signs, we sent emails via the Home Owners Association, we checked garbage cans, sidewalks, flowerbeds, etc. We even went so far as to say in one email that we didn't even care if the camera was returned...we just wanted the sim card! This card held ALL, and i mean ALL, Jace's new baby pictures. We were sick. Holding on to the hope that someone would at least do the right thing and return the camera, we bought a few disposible cameras to tide us over. Months later, we are still without the camera. And, to make matters worse, the disposible cameras we bought got exposed and the pics there were runined too. So, terrible mother that i am, now the only pictures i have of Jace are from when he was about one month on. I know it's not all my fault...but i did leave the camera at the pool. Oh well. Lesson learned.

Here are a few of our favorite pictures of 'The Big Easy' that we have taken, using my parents camera, over the past few months. Enjoy!
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Why the title Bugs Spot?

Perhaps you're wondering why we chose the title "The Bugs Spot" for our blog. Well, the answer is simple really. We named it after our baby girl. We have called her 'bug' for as long as I can remember. I can recall my mother being appalled that we'd call her a 'bug.' "She doesn't look at all like a bug!" she'd say. Little did mom know that the nicknames that have come since...kitty, bunny, tiny, mooch, and mama...would have little to do with her looks either. She is what she is. The nicknames are what they are. And that is that.

Miss Rose

Those of you that know our family, are pretty well aquainted with our three year old daughter, Isabelle Rose Wetsel. She is 3 going on 16 and has a lot to say about just about everything. She started preschool this year with all the other 3 year olds at Centerville Acadamey. However, after only 2 days of school, her teacher Ms. Marsha phoned Scott and I to tell us that she was definately in the wrong class. Though she was the same age as the other kids, her vocabulary and actions were far above them...no kidding? And so, she was moved up to the four year old class with her cousin Gabe. She loves school and we are constantly amazed at what she's learning and all the things she can do.

I wanted to write down a few of our favorite "Isabelle-isms" for you to read so that you too can get a taste of what our 'tiny bug' is all about.

*One day while drawing pictures of the temple with her daddy, Iz pointed to the top of her temple and said, "Look Dad! It's the angel Ramona!"

*The other day she came out of her Grandma Wetsel's house singing "I'm A Single Baby" to the tune of Beyonce's "All The Single Ladies."

*When Scott was preparing to give his first lesson in Gospel Doctrine, he was very nervous. Iz, always picking up on the emotions of those around her says, "Dad, would you like me to say a special prayer for you?" This was followed up by one of the sweetest, most simple, heartfelt prayers I have ever heard. Truly brings new meaning to 'become as a little child.'

*When Iz was 'snuffing' the other day (a thing she does when she's fake crying) i turned to her and said, "Izzy, what's the matter? Are you sad?" She responded in kind by saying, "Oh Mom...I'm just so happy! That's why I'm crying." "Why honey? Why are you so happy?" I said. "Because my mommy gets to stay home with me all the days now and not have to go to work anymore." This was a day of 'mommy paybacks' for me.

*When singing 'I Love To See The Temple' Izzy sings the words, "I'll prepare myself while I am YUM" (instead of young). We don't have the heart to correct her.

*After getting in the car after preschool one day, Iz says to me, "Mom. I'm stressed out!"

*And finally...the other night, Scott and I are laying in bed when Iz enters our room and climbs up on the bottom of the bed. Holding up two fingers she says to us, "Ok Mom and Dad. You have 2 choices. I can either climb up in your bed and sleep with you, or, one of you can come down to my bed and sleep with me. What's your choice?"

There are sooo many more things she says and does everyday that crack us up. I've started to write down everything so I won't forget. Suffice it to say that she is the light of our life. We love her so much. She is the BEST big sister and loves her baby brother with all her heart. We can't wait to see what the future holds in store for our princess. Love you bug!

The Big Easy

Four months ago, we added a new member to our family. Jace Andrew was born on June 10th at 3:30 in the afternoon. I'd like to say it was an easy breezy delivery, but I'd be lying. After two epidurals, my blood pressure dropping to critical levels not once but TWICE, and Jaces' heart rate plummeting twice, we were ready to throw in the towel. When the little guy finally decided to show his tiny face, we were relieved and grateful...but for a short moment. We soon learned he wasn't breathing on his own. He was whisked away from me before I even had a chance to say hello. I was told that his APGAR was 2 pretty much all he had going for him was a weak heartbeat. They rushed him to NICU where he was placed under an oxygen box. He had tubes and needles all over his poor body. My dad and Scott were able to give him a blessing of healing and comfort shortly after that. They couldn't put their hands on his head because he had to remain under the oxygen, so they placed their hands on his tiny chest. Three agonizing hours later I was able to be wheeled into the nursery to see him. Looking back, I don't know if this was a good thing or a bad thing. He was so helpless in that bed, covered with all sorts of foreign objects. I sobbed for hours after that. I couldn't even hold my new son. I stayed in the hospital for 3 days. During that time, I was able to visit the nursery whenever I wanted, and could hold him and breastfeed him after a day or so. The doctors told us to plan on having to leave him at the hospital for some time. I was devastated. But through faith and prayers and that wonderful blessing, a miracles happened. Jace made a huge turn around. After a large panel of tests on his lungs and other organs, the doctors were stunned to tell us that he would be able to leave the hospital with us. I can't remember ever being more relieved.

It hasn't gotten easier. As soon as we got home, we noticed Jace's coloring was off. More tests, more needles, and more doctors. Jace had a quite severe case of jaundice. Luckily, we were able to have a special bilirubin bed brought to our house for him. I don't know what I'd have done if we'd have had to take him back to the hospital and leave him there. It was hard enough that I could only hold him when I was feeding him. He had to be under lights at all other times. Those were a difficult four days as well.

28 days later we were back with the doctors. This time at Primary Children's Hosptial (details to come at a later date). We have a baby who has been sick almost half of his life. He has reflux and colic and is not a very content little guy. But, we wouldn't have it any other way. When he looks up at you and smiles that great big smile, there isn't a better feeling in the world. And I'd go through a million hard deliveries, doctors visits, and tests, to have him in our home. We love you Jace!

Welcome to the 21st Centruy

Ok. So i realize that everyone and their DOG has a blog. I also realize that i have been putting off doing this for some time because I'm a bit handicapped when it comes to technology. I mean really, it took me months to master facebook! But, i'll give it a go. If we get pictures posted, it'll be a miracle;-) But, we're here....the bugs spot are us!