tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49290781766824873602024-03-23T04:36:55.140-04:00Tiffany BarrettFaith & lifestyle blog.Tiffany Barretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00789522240554699522noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4929078176682487360.post-16992290222221671972021-12-15T02:56:00.010-05:002021-12-15T03:50:38.269-05:00Minimalism For Beginners <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjo56TFXnPOkJsiXZiTR9SsVB13l5YfST0HLTN-0-p3li-k_1mmSLyW3vUXdO_sQ_aUkUxPhxpltO2VuYa4zJvNOCQxvbv5_X_i-qAPKHyadAXOweuimVoPKTZr1RKZXvrcLbc5qky-RClSYuQUFq36Cxhkbwv-WdlYGu4GWoDxervifHno3GUgSLrp=s1080" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjo56TFXnPOkJsiXZiTR9SsVB13l5YfST0HLTN-0-p3li-k_1mmSLyW3vUXdO_sQ_aUkUxPhxpltO2VuYa4zJvNOCQxvbv5_X_i-qAPKHyadAXOweuimVoPKTZr1RKZXvrcLbc5qky-RClSYuQUFq36Cxhkbwv-WdlYGu4GWoDxervifHno3GUgSLrp=w400-h400" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It began in 2019 for us. A kind of spring cleaning that stuck around as a lifestyle, all year round. The one when the “I’ll wear this eventually” clothes make it to the bottom of a dark donation bag and the dozen decorative pillows were carefully considered as we said goodbye to half of the beautiful stack. Farewell stuff and hello boundaries. It wasn't only stuff that I let go of, but it was patterns of thinking and ways of existing. The term minimalism corresponds more with quality of life over quantity of goods. Minimalism is straightforwardly the removal of whatever distracts you from living a fulfilling life. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now that you have a little framework, the real start of this journey was foreshadowed in 2017 when my husband, Brandon discovered Josh and Ryan from the well known podcast "<i>The Minimalists</i>". They would go on to write best selling books and movies that would challenge the theory of enjoying life with less. Captivated, we discussed the idea for years to come. We learned, shaped, and tailored what this meant for us. Identifying priorities and frequent examinations of our goals from season to season. Pinpointing the true satisfaction of a rich and full life. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Clutter as we know it, isn't always the messes that we live in. If you're anything like me, you have to constantly filter the jumbled thoughts that fill your mind. Never ending to-do lists, constant pressure that come with difficult relationships, or even an underlying sense of busyness that you'd hope somehow leads to worthiness. The activities and lists compiled all lend their way to where your time is being spent. Somehow mental health, hours on a clock, and prioritizes usually take the backseat. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For us, developing a new sense of life was tucked away in the theory of maximizing experience and minimizing things. Embracing that which we call significant and worthy of our time to care after. We created a few simple rule of thumbs that we still use today. Take a peek: value what you say yes to, plan for the future, pass it along when possible, dwell before making an impulse purchase, and create space for the new. When we salute to the order of these practical steps, I believe we really live beyond the reality of existing. Learn freedoms that only arise when unconsumed by the power we give to stuff.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So where do you start? I've got a house full of things and not enough experience of <i>letting go</i>. If we were sitting across my sticky do it yourself farm table, I would share these few words, "<i>familiarize yourself with letting go"</i>. I'd hope you'd continue to converse alongside of me after these words dance through the air and the atmosphere around us quiets. This is frequently what happens when there's a mic drop thought. The ones that sparks something interesting inside of our brains to consider as we partake in visualizing life as we know it. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">There's good news for those of you who might be frowning right now. The best portion of saying goodbye is this: it doesn't mean it's forever. The beauty of borrowing is a hidden treasure that would be considerably pleasing to dust off now and then. There's got to be a few dozen reasons why thrifting is such a hit, right? Reduce, reuse, recycle. We've all heard it before, but there really is power in experiencing what this means in our day to day agendas. One of our families favorite places to spend time together is the Library. The spark in shuffling through the hundreds of books, activities, and digital content is exciting in itself (if you're an avid reader life myself), but did you consider the satisfaction that you'll walk away without ever investing a penny? The resources you and I have accessible in our cities is notable and completely worth our time to consider. After all, that book you might have in your Amazon cart right now, doesn't even have to take two days to ship if it's already sitting on the shelves at your local library. Pretty neat stuff.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">And finally, if there's one last worthy piece of advice I would consider to pass on, it would be this, <i>don't underestimate your small beginning</i>. One yes in the right direction is another step closer to your destination. Wherever that cap looks like to you, is worthy of your yes now. Every step leads somewhere. Your yes get's easier. Especially when you're yes indicates less time scrolling and more time present. Smaller amounts of clutter and increased quantity of memories. Not so many bills in the mail, but certainly more smiles felt. At the core, minimalism is so much more than just stuff. The stuff is just what everyone talks about the most. A minimalistic lifestyle is geared around what you value and that will look different for everyone. For me, that's Jesus, people and the experiences that tag along. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My hope is that when you leave this space we've shared together today, you find the boldness it takes to reflect and the grace that comes with evaluation. Our entire existence is built upon intentional choices and it's our mission to prompt and protect what falls under that category - what fills your time and occupies your space. Beginning a minimalistic lifestyle isn't found in missing out or having less, it's truly enjoyed in what matters most. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The cycle of constant desire stops at the foundation of contentment. The space of satisfaction that can be found in what fills your life here and now. It doesn't mean you'll stop aspiring to reach your goals, but instead learning the art of appreciation instead of waiting for that next season. This moment matters. Everyday you breathe matters. Let it count every step of the way, friend. Every single step.</div>Tiffany Barretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00789522240554699522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4929078176682487360.post-13017055598177103992021-10-06T00:36:00.145-04:002021-11-27T15:23:00.928-05:00 My Testimony <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEji0YXPhtwSbMpf-9R8DVRuMEkFvkFFMgO6pBjyQqlmm5QUIAUlKojzhDOuTKgF1Qsg3b88WGyVux7RryhvpCXF77C0SezdyQB0DIYy4pdhmhE4TNWHK4KtSj780_qJ__yMyrgdx_TLN8XoIdlEFxFptevgxYjXHXtR22pTRPaKGvcWQ5DyJ5K7h-WD=s2048" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEji0YXPhtwSbMpf-9R8DVRuMEkFvkFFMgO6pBjyQqlmm5QUIAUlKojzhDOuTKgF1Qsg3b88WGyVux7RryhvpCXF77C0SezdyQB0DIYy4pdhmhE4TNWHK4KtSj780_qJ__yMyrgdx_TLN8XoIdlEFxFptevgxYjXHXtR22pTRPaKGvcWQ5DyJ5K7h-WD=w480-h640" width="480" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><p>It feels surreal that I'm attempting to gather all the right words to say. That I'm revisiting some of the most significant bits of time. Minutes, hours, days, months, and years that changed the course of my life entirely. </p><p>It was senior year of 2011, where I found myself buried under a mountain of hardship, perplexed by the decisions of adulthood, and totally undone by emotions that held me hostage. The last eleven years of my education leveraged me here. Our life is made up of so many moments. This was one I made sure to mark.</p><p>I was trying to graduate, I was holding down a part time job, I was learning under my parents authority, and I was even driving a car older than the years I’ve roamed the planet. I had a fine GPA, but I didn’t know what opportunities existed beyond the brick building I walked the halls of for many years. Life beyond the "now", was not on the heart of a girl who couldn’t even process what my family was making for dinner. All I knew was that I hoped it was my mom's teriyaki chicken that would make the cut.</p><p>My daily agenda consisted of hanging out with my people, being too good at pool, selling shoes to meet a sales quota, and downloading free music. I spent all my money on hot topic band t-shirts, cut my friends hair with a razor, and convinced my parents I needed multiple piercings to be happy. Life was fun, but I was fragile. I was outgoing, but I lacked confidence because it was gripped around the opinions of others. If I could wear a smile on the outside, no one would know what was happening on the inside. Check and mate.</p><p>As graduation knocked on the door of my reality, my family and I moved to a quaint hotel room in between searching for a new semi-permanent residence. Close quarters is what I knew. We called it home for several months. No kitchen, no privacy beyond a walk in the hall, and certainly only one remote. A king sized bed, an overcrowded cot, a mattress on the floor, and a chair that I’ll never forget. I hold it closely because I remember the sacrifice my father made as he chose to sleep in it every single night to accommodate for the rest of our families comfort. </p><p>As my high school career neared it's end, I had a very transparent conversation with one of my teachers. Exchanged words that wouldn't soon be forgotten. Sharing the hard parts of my life didn't come natural to me. I actually rarely ever opened up to even the closest of friends. Now how was I expected to have this kind of dialoge with someone I didn't even know? Deep down, the pride inside of me that wanted to keep portions of my life behind closed doors had to fall. If it didn’t, I would fail. This particular class was one that would unlock the key to my diploma. Life at home was difficult, but it was out of my control. Life at school was challenging, but every decision was in my hands. I knew the cost of my every choice. </p><p>Inhale. Exhale. I took two deep breaths and dragged my feet to the first room on the left of the Social Studies hallway. The teachers lounge is where I would plant my first seed of authenticity and overcome the fear of hiding. I felt the burden of anxiety build up in my throat, but I still shuffled one foot in front of the other. In the presence of tables stacked high with reports and surrounded by adults who led the course of every high school student, I had a very real conversation with my teacher. Expressing my desperation for extra assistance on my final exam and extensions of grace as I navigated my existence in such a bold season of my life. Brokenness wasn't new to me, but I certainly didn't ask for help along the path. I didn't like people knowing I made such a dark space my permanent residence. It wasn't easy to let anyone in. It took every ounce of bravery I had that day to do just that.</p><p>As my splintered sentences hovered the air, my teacher was so gracious to me. He allowed me the freedom to be emotionally unstable and offered me more than I bargained for. Looking back, I can still identify how very moved he was by my resilience to openly confide in him with such personal information. The exact details I'm uncovering to you today. I was convinced I would sink and he offered me an anchor. </p><p>On June 17th, 2011, my tassel moved from right to left and I graduated High School alongside of my lifelong classmates It was nothing short of a miracle. It sure felt like one on that day. My education status changed, but my life circumstances didn't. At this point, our close quarters didn't seem so friendly anymore and my brother was attending a youth group at a local church to get involved in community. It was a brilliant idea on his part, but I wasn't clearly the fearless type. My mom would drive, drop off, and pick him up for many weeks, until one night. The evening my sweet mama was invited to church by someone who noticed her in the entry way of a young adult group. That's all it took. A simple glance and gesture of awareness to re-route life as we knew it.</p><p>She would return that night with a flood of thoughts and emotions. She even shared those reflections with me over an overcrowded $5 footlong (insert subway shoutout here). I smiled because she radiated joy. She felt seen, she felt cared for and now she was eager to meet others who would add this kind of value to her life. Where would she find them? Likely, the same place she left just hours prior. </p><p>My mom and brother set out on a new expedition Sunday morning. Their <i>yes</i> would leave a generational impact and re-write the story of my life. Mom seemed happy. She was glowing and I couldn't help but wonder what she experienced. Eventually, mom would extend that same invitation that was offered to her, to myself and there you'd find me. Occupying residence in the second row of a crowded auditorium while I was met with life giving truth, neighbored by genuinely kind humans, and served fresh hot coffee every morning of attendance, thank you get much. After what felt like a few weeks, I made a declaration. A commitment to say yes to Jesus Christ as the Lord of my life. I declared His grace would cover me and make me new all the days of my life. A daring decision for a fragile girl like myself.</p><p>Now this all sounds a bit crazy and I'm happy to admit that it totally is, but that bold decision was the best choice I could have ever made. I don't have to share an array of details or draw up the portraits of the bits and pieces in between this new adventure, but what I do want to illustrate is how very special what Jesus did for me and for you truly is. The day my presence was unmistakably accounted for in that room, was the same day I believe God orchestrated me to be there. It's as if my name was written across the seat I cozied into and the alter I stood when I accepted God's grace over my life. The message that was presented in those simple hours identified with every fiber of my being. It's as if the speaker and I were having a personal conversation and the crowd was just listening in. As if he knew portions of my life that I tried to desperately cancel in my heart. And little did I know, that my brokenness was serving a purpose. It led me to such a time as this. </p><p>In 2012, I started pursuing Jesus and discovering what that meant over the next decade. As I began to unpack the stories in the Gospel and discover Jesus’s love for me, I experienced transformation. Literally changed from the inside out. Hope, love, peace, joy, and light were now spilling out into every area of my life like never before. It couldn't be contained, it couldn’t be explained, and it was kind of contagious. This certainly wasn't something that happened overnight. It was and still remains a gradual process. An activity that never truly ends, but can't be denied as my fingers waterfall over the letters on my keyboard in reflection of what used to be. My yes to hope is undeniably the best thing that has ever happened to me. </p><p>A life sheltered by faith is my residence today. When I went home to that quaint hotel room after church that day, my circumstances didn't change. We continued daily life, we carried on facing hardships, and we certainly still lived imperfectly. That is something that isn’t changing anytime soon. But now, now I did it with a new perspective. I approached everything with a different heart. I began expressing emotions and inviting people into the places I worked overtime to conceal. I welcomed who I was today in exchange for who I’d be in the future. I began to see the good in spaces that shouldn't be worthy of any mention. And somewhere along the way, I made a promise to myself that it was okay to be real, raw, and vulnerable. I discovered this made me relatable and opened up so many treasured friendships that I hold close to heart today. </p><p>There used to be more things about myself that I disliked than I enjoyed. I used to follow the crowd and craved any compliments flung my way. The pressures of life used to engulf my every thought and fight me for sleep. I used to live medically depressed with a grin from ear to ear. My heart used to be overwhelmed and under-satisfied. When I met Jesus that day, my canvas became new and so did my vision. Everything I was naturally accustomed to doesn't look the same nine years later. I continue to struggle with habits that still linger and familiarities I've made friends with, but the difference is, now I don't face it alone. Its different now. I trust God in the midst and lean in to the gift of grace He's sacrificially supplied me with. I've never known a love like this before and I perceive there is nothing else like it. </p><p>Life is marked by moments. For me, this one is notable to share with anyone who is willing to listen. The freedom He has for you is completely free and has the opportunity to change everything. Don’t underestimate your small beginning, especially when it starts with a simple “yes”.</p><p>"This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need<span face="system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial" style="background-color: white; font-size: 1.6rem;"> </span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: times;">be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life. God didn’t go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again. Anyone who trusts in him is acquitted; anyone who refuses to trust him has long since been under the death sentence without knowing it. And why? Because of that person’s failure to believe in the one-of-a-kind Son of God when introduced to him.</span></span></p><p>John 3:16-18 </p><p><span style="background-color: white;">The Message </span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Tiffany Barretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00789522240554699522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4929078176682487360.post-84073017133526571292021-09-07T23:52:00.017-04:002021-11-27T15:22:36.686-05:00Our Relationship Story <p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheNLB66VN87oU0bpy2znzthr4ThWpSGQycWzjWtMoLRxCOsq77CZR9WfYu0LCazrym0xeQmi4DiQnY9xsPHJvwYMLnIVkFoAD5gAsjVmTJ4huTxxI7FEOw5l8H9HxKFKXGHuQcvQfS0kc/s2048/5B871B9D-D4CB-4112-9371-36D1BB55FAF4.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheNLB66VN87oU0bpy2znzthr4ThWpSGQycWzjWtMoLRxCOsq77CZR9WfYu0LCazrym0xeQmi4DiQnY9xsPHJvwYMLnIVkFoAD5gAsjVmTJ4huTxxI7FEOw5l8H9HxKFKXGHuQcvQfS0kc/w640-h640/5B871B9D-D4CB-4112-9371-36D1BB55FAF4.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">photo by kortni at kortnimaria.com</p><p style="text-align: center;">Before it was us it was we. It was the two of us. You and I.</p><p style="text-align: center;">Our unique fairytale, constructed in the upstairs community space of an old brick building. “Common ground” was the turf our hearts connected. </p><p style="text-align: center;">I was seventeen and so were you. Tightly wrapped in skinny jeans and sheltered in our favorite band T-shirt’s. My shoes were checkered and yours were chunky Etnie sneakers. I still remember that part. We had good style and an even better taste in the music scene.</p><p style="text-align: center;">You looked my way, but you didn’t know I already had looked yours. You liked my shoes and I liked your hair. The compliment sang from your lips as I studied your appearance. Short and cute meets lengthy and lion-esque. Everyone knew the mane on my head carried it’s own roar. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8NYN-acXCvRtwbEIs2npVvKu0iXIuIVyK4HizY2Wnx0NlBSGIxTqyG6VPbge5jNkB2T_xePsGT4mjBEQoUjBg71bagLELV640BXuOfkCY13zP4EmAUZY47HozLf7HWVMefyIThGYd2z4/s2048/D6896B74-DC7C-4038-9014-7230462CAC88.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8NYN-acXCvRtwbEIs2npVvKu0iXIuIVyK4HizY2Wnx0NlBSGIxTqyG6VPbge5jNkB2T_xePsGT4mjBEQoUjBg71bagLELV640BXuOfkCY13zP4EmAUZY47HozLf7HWVMefyIThGYd2z4/w427-h640/D6896B74-DC7C-4038-9014-7230462CAC88.jpeg" width="427" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">Our common ground was the perfect opportunity. A treasure of mutual friends brought us to this place of our very own friendship. The kind of bond that only grew with time.</p><p style="text-align: center;">You asked me for my email address and I’ll forever cherish how unique that makes our story. You didn’t have a phone so you’d email me at school. Multiple times a day. The messages you’d send were as kind as could be. They always made me smile and certainly miss you since we lived in two different towns. The good news is, the plot twist of distance in our story, well that never won.</p><p style="text-align: center;">We would talk for months until that early morning. The one where you would ask me to be your girlfriend. The day you still chuckle about now, confessing how you had to ask me out before anyone else could. You were brave, bold, and knew how to put a smile on my face. Not much has changed.</p><p style="text-align: center;">We would date for five years before the next question popped. Those sixty months challenging every area of our relationship. We fought, but we still do. We battled hardships, but we always will. We faced turmoil, setbacks, and brokenness. We did all of this through some of the most growing and challenging years of our lives. And that’s how I knew. We didn’t give up and we never give in. Together was our favorite place to be. I’d like to say it certainly still is.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt7eVhkp3NYWLmqqgvOTCzKLUWIXFkHl9-21vfv6ZsVPeud8kZc4lbRSYYjBrk0Am8VRaplEldG-84NPnfWKUV5ZdSpFUhXkpK5N4e5W0pNQ7Vs6jF9v_5ZbPRhaYbo142CQ4DuKfSlh0/s2048/0BE06D87-7BA9-4450-8E49-96660266858D.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt7eVhkp3NYWLmqqgvOTCzKLUWIXFkHl9-21vfv6ZsVPeud8kZc4lbRSYYjBrk0Am8VRaplEldG-84NPnfWKUV5ZdSpFUhXkpK5N4e5W0pNQ7Vs6jF9v_5ZbPRhaYbo142CQ4DuKfSlh0/w640-h640/0BE06D87-7BA9-4450-8E49-96660266858D.jpeg" width="640" /></a></p><p style="text-align: center;">The world doesn’t need to know all the details. We won’t replay those challenges publicly today, but what we get to do is far better. We give glory to the One who brought us through. These challenges were flooded with grace, mercy, and unconditional love after we encountered Jesus in 2012. We learned to forgive. We acquired deeper understanding of real love. We got to start our journey of faith arm in arm and heart to heart.</p><p style="text-align: center;">In June of 2016, we said I do. We planned the best day ever and than took even better days off during our honeymoon to the Bahamas. Still some of my favorite memories.</p><p style="text-align: center;">For the next two years, we figured life out, we got new jobs, we set cozily into our first apartment, and ventured out into the world with wonder. Expectancy of the future and contentment of the now. We knew that loving our life would start and end with each other. We acquired the wisdom that would constantly remind us how we were far better together.</p><p style="text-align: center;">Fast forward to 2018, we have a newborn and our little family has grown. You and I always knew we wanted a big crew, even when we didn’t know what we were doing. We discovered it along the way, making the best team.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO2IUorzEVcDYgCluuFxnHvl0cq3BidFfYVJBpAPWltZVe6l3cyOhths1Uk2R8GlIlzGQoylp_j1wD4T2MiK27oKgYABH9FNGvyXJd-qxoOMI-gGZPd5FYLfHnyrGGgmow3IGG5ro5gAQ/s1620/FA4BA83E-8A2B-4CDD-8EAD-C6181AD219E6.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1620" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO2IUorzEVcDYgCluuFxnHvl0cq3BidFfYVJBpAPWltZVe6l3cyOhths1Uk2R8GlIlzGQoylp_j1wD4T2MiK27oKgYABH9FNGvyXJd-qxoOMI-gGZPd5FYLfHnyrGGgmow3IGG5ro5gAQ/w640-h427/FA4BA83E-8A2B-4CDD-8EAD-C6181AD219E6.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">The upgrade to parenthood refined our marriage. We asked for this season and prayed for it, but forgot to prepare for the newness it would bring to our relationship. </p><p style="text-align: center;">Re-shaping, re-forming, and transitioning the life we knew. You and I could do that. You and I did that. Sometimes it was date nights at home or texting all day when it’s hard to get a conversation in with our talkative first born. This grit helped us, even though it was different than anything we knew.</p><p style="text-align: center;">Plunging into our new titles as mom and dad, we fought death right in the face with some of the most valuable people in our lives. You held me and I upheld you. Let’s be honest though, God carried us both.</p><p style="text-align: center;">Just two years later, you’d find us with another little and now there’s four of us. Surely our hands full, but our hearts, those are fuller. Rarely getting out. Endless amounts of laundry. Even littler pockets of time to invest into our relationship, yet here we are. We’re doing it. We’re thriving. We’re making mistakes, showering grace, facing tough circumstances, and still leaning into every kiss with excitement like we’re still teenagers. As if.</p><p style="text-align: center;">That’s my favorite part of our story. The ever changing seasons of our life and the continues of our own personal growth haven’t changed us. I actually love you more than the first day and I really do love you even more than our wedding day. Just as we grow, so does our love. Day after day, year after year.</p><p style="text-align: center;"> What was, still is. </p><p style="text-align: center;">We. It is. You and I. </p>Tiffany Barretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00789522240554699522noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4929078176682487360.post-36014686534503536162021-08-11T16:14:00.021-04:002021-11-27T15:21:57.307-05:00Homemaking <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwAQ8mQsYzdgCXO1uAAoLKf4MJByNIesxlJk2RklotVJlNRO9IPNOG3y_w9mHkAqTQIBvqxayrl-M0HNU_kYYsSTOclc44JpZ9NUaOXk6LhhUEF3PWEFewc5Y-3pnvHhn8CtvBAxs0fVE/s2048/81FE5458-D471-4D2B-B52A-B3DF4D5CAEC1.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwAQ8mQsYzdgCXO1uAAoLKf4MJByNIesxlJk2RklotVJlNRO9IPNOG3y_w9mHkAqTQIBvqxayrl-M0HNU_kYYsSTOclc44JpZ9NUaOXk6LhhUEF3PWEFewc5Y-3pnvHhn8CtvBAxs0fVE/w640-h480/81FE5458-D471-4D2B-B52A-B3DF4D5CAEC1.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Homemaking. It’s creating and managing a home. The atmosphere. The tone. The long list of to-do’s. Overseeing all the aspects of running a household. Presenting a comfortable and inviting space for all that life will offer inside the special four walls of what you know as <i>home</i>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I think there’s some silly stigma around homemakers and generational labels stamped on the type of people it adheres to. I don’t think the word “homemaker” should tag people as all they are, but celebrate them for all they do. I don’t think it limits those who walk it’s course, but opens up windows of opportunity for their character to grow for what’s ahead. I think this and a whole lot more. Homemakers are set apart. And if I could say, there’s more creative and unique positions about what homemaking really is than may meet the eye.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I’ve always carried qualities of a homemaker from childhood before I ever took the plunge. I mean, what nine year old asks to do the dishes? I still remember to this day how genuinely real my interest was in watching the soap waterfall into an overflow of stained glasses and pointy forks. I gazed over my moms shoulder over a dozen times as her pruned hands cupped every piece of dish-ware until every last plate was clean. Her love for our home was constantly evident. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I’m naturally pulled towards homemaking in the qualities I enjoy. Organizing treasured items, planning out meals, and folding laundry to my favorite audio messages. Although I gravitate toward some portions naturally, there’s definitely things my husband and I trade off. News flash, I hate cleaning tubs and I don’t like making the bed. Sorry to disappoint.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The good news is, caring for our homes is so much more than chores, a Pinterest worthy bedroom or our unorganized pantry. It goes beyond the linens we cuddle with nightly and how much dust may or may not be built up on our countertops. To me, the most notable part of homemaking is this: building up your people.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Yes, yes, and yes. Pouring into those that we are our most pure, raw, and real selves with day in and day out. This portion of homemaking is extremely important to me because it’s one that I often miss more than I’d like to admit. Where serving meets the imperfect heart. The heart that still gets overwhelmed by countless hours of clean up. The heart that says the wrong thing and begs for forgiveness. And the heart that endures the tangible emotions that this beautiful calling carries. Especially when the white and colored dirty laundry clash. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Often times, the atmosphere of my white washed walls is influenced by the very spirit I’m carrying. Laughter adds joy. Kindness adds encouragement. Gentleness adds love. It’s the very fruits that God calls us to carry. The kind of actions that participate in the transformation of lives. The kind of behaviors that radiate adoration to grow bigger, stronger. The space where my family knows it is safe. My arms and heart continually open to what they have to say. What they are willing to share. What they constantly feel. When I choose to let the evidence of my life lead with positivity for my people, the atmosphere in our home shifts. Be that life giver for yourself and for your people.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As a homemaker, wife, and mama, I understand the responsibility and the power of prayer. This is a part of homemaking that sits uniquely tucked into my life. Imagine with me for a moment, if you were to come partake in my normal life, you’d be quick to understand my best friends are my boys, my social life is for the most part text, calls, and social media, and when I have a blank look on my face, I’m probably thinking about something. You’d also note that I like to start my day talking to Jesus, I’ll take my coffee extra hot, and I desire Gods Word before I get into life beyond bacon and eggs. Whether you’re watching closely or from a distance, you’d probably take the hint that prayer is something you'll catch me in all day long. What do I mean by prayer? Biblically, it’s a conversation with God. Whether I’m asking Him for help when I’m losing my cool, for direction when I don’t know what to do, or how I can best spend my day to be used for His glory. It’s a fundamental part of our day from when the sun gazes through our two story apartment and into the night when the house is still. I hope that my example teaches my children and reminds my husband the beauty of prayer in this lifetime. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Perspective is everything. It’s not that I have to do x, y, and z, but I like to see it as I <i>get</i> to do them. Every single one of them. When I shift from I have to take out the trash, vacuum the house, or pick up all of these toys, to the opportunity I’ve been given, I live a life that I love. You’ll start revealing in how thankful you are for the ones who show up every week to collect your trash. You’ll understand the wonderful I feeling of a clean floor. And you certainly won’t miss the gift it is to see your children smile as their imagination grows during play. I’m a big believer in the ability to see the good. It’s refreshing to be around and a powerhouse foundation.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Presence. Something the world today could use a little more of. I honor the value of someone taking the time to be present with me, so it’s not hard to fathom why it’s such a staple in my home too. Caring for the needs of my family walks hand in hand with being present with them too. It’s getting down to my boys level and hugging them when they’re upset or playing with them when they ask. It’s choosing to set aside time with my husband to play a board game and laugh over our favorite snacks. It’s choosing to put my phone away and surrender to the noise of my favorite people. It’s choosing to live and not to put life on hold. When I plan my weeks, I’m always trying to be aware where my pockets of time are and use those to my best ability, especially if that means I’ll be pulling out my phone or laptop. When people interact with me, I want them to feel seen. When my kids grow up, my biggest desire is for them to know I was there. Always present with them. Always for them.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Of course the cleaning, the cooking, and the endless amounts of laundry tie into homemaking too. Things that I get to love because it’s apart of life. Abilities and experiences I’m so grateful to have the opportunity to do with the work of my hands. Homemakers are far more than what we may see them as. They are often the force behind everything that happens in and outside of the four walls. They are beautiful. They are worthy to celebrate.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Let our homes be built on the rock. Let our homes flourish from the work of our hands and hearts.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><p></p>Tiffany Barretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00789522240554699522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4929078176682487360.post-2827680050750797172021-08-04T23:02:00.021-04:002021-11-27T15:21:46.252-05:00My Postpartum Journey <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdbalGVovazMnTb4x9PRFE4HfoJEdPRfqS2lpxCWTk_K9agasdEb2RAqiNLvt4HH7_OxAkP7fYsTkO6IMJK5XLJjehvuAxbGhai91uYlaZhAnIBeF5WdvDCaLevYYBteKfBFIg7x94PJo/s2048/A6202855-E046-4E45-81E5-1D48DD8305F8.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1366" data-original-width="2048" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdbalGVovazMnTb4x9PRFE4HfoJEdPRfqS2lpxCWTk_K9agasdEb2RAqiNLvt4HH7_OxAkP7fYsTkO6IMJK5XLJjehvuAxbGhai91uYlaZhAnIBeF5WdvDCaLevYYBteKfBFIg7x94PJo/w640-h427/A6202855-E046-4E45-81E5-1D48DD8305F8.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Photo by Kortni at <a href="http://kortnimaria.com">kortnimaria.com</a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: center;">Hello fourth trimester and welcome to postpartum.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I always knew I wanted to share my life journey, like the pages in my journal. Remind women who’ve gone before me or follow behind me, that it’s simply okay, scratch that, not just okay, but encouraged to walk through this life totally authentic. Not having it all together, but helping each other along the way. We’re not meant to exist alone, but rather together. Side by side. Through smiles and tears, joys and sorrows. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My journey after pregnancy and birth have been different with each child. I didn’t expect anything less, but honestly I didn’t know anything more. I did no research beyond what I would need to heal physically and completely missed all that I needed to prepare mentally. This was my plunge into motherhood territory with my first son, Karson.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I say this phrase continually, to anyone and everyone who will listen. Change, whether expected or not is hard. It’s part of transition and thats something that requires adjusting.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Postpartum with Karson hit heavy with an extra side of baby blues. This reality of my season of life clashing with this new life I wrapped lovingly in my arms was utterly overwhelming. And that in itself kind of sums up what becoming a new mom feels like, right? I read all the books, googled until my fingers were sore, and followed all the suggestions, until I could no more. My mama instinct started to settle in over time, even when our settling in was far from what I imagined.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Postpartum with my second son, Myles has absolutely been life giving. Three months together on earth side is quickly approaching, yet I can’t remember what life was like before he joined our family. Of course I’ll still make friends with anxiety when I can’t figure out what’s wrong or I wish I had a third arm. Of course I’m still figuring out things as I go and always sit in the backseat of our white SUV on long drives with both kids. Of course there’s this and so much more. So much more laughs, smiles, and quiet moments where I look at my miracles and thank God for them both.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After giving birth to Myles, I positioned myself for hardship. I was ready for the battle of raging hormones and mental health challenges as I’ve struggled before. I knew it would be difficult with now two additional souls to care for as I already understood what it was like with one. I extended myself grace and I asked for help. I shorted the list of things I needed to do and stoped over extending myself. I prayed when it was challenging and I chose to say yes to this season with every breath I take.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Postpartum is jeans too tight.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Postpartum is frustration that you forget everything.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Postpartum is spit filled shirts and laundry around the clock.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Postpartum is wishing someone would plan your meals, do your laundry, and bring you groceries.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Postpartum is also exchanging smiles and a thousand kisses.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Postpartum is also laughing about the fact that you peed yourself and you don’t know how.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Postpartum is also this incredible reminder that you’re baby is here, happy and healthy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My body has changed for the better, even on days I can’t see past the scars. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My mind has changed for the better, even on days I’m begging for time on my own. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My heart has changed for the better, even when I miss the mark. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Motherhood changes you. It shapes you in countless ways, crafting you into who you’re destined to be.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Baby blues to cloud nine, I’ve lived them both. Setting up residency in bigger jeans, spit up shirts, and the classic mom bun. Living with a baby on my chest and gaining new skills to pick up everything with my feet when possible (anyone else?). Adjusting to hormones, emotional breakdowns, and taking two hours to leave the house. Every part difficult, but every second irreplaceable.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Each journey has been unique and special in their own way. Life will teach you things in the transition. Lessons you couldn’t learn without them. Lessons like the value of life and how absolutely astonishing it is that our bodies have been allowed this gift to produce life itself. I lean into that every day. Each moment that is harder than the last and each passing day that brings me joy.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is postpartum. </div><p></p>Tiffany Barretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00789522240554699522noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4929078176682487360.post-45854613570973383592021-06-18T23:16:00.012-04:002021-11-27T15:14:31.882-05:0027 Things I've Learned By 28<p style="text-align: center;"><span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8XbsG2wIauIliqzyUr3z_hOAWVLxZZduSLXzJNPUinhEIRPRBFwd8ZkuLM0tMc2Q8Tjgakq3sGUTtw4a6FPRXbeaQthv_TCMydc22iAD_6kKzlv6v___IlhJ680hGXHZwaD9qcV2Aq7Q/s1080/Untitled+design-11.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8XbsG2wIauIliqzyUr3z_hOAWVLxZZduSLXzJNPUinhEIRPRBFwd8ZkuLM0tMc2Q8Tjgakq3sGUTtw4a6FPRXbeaQthv_TCMydc22iAD_6kKzlv6v___IlhJ680hGXHZwaD9qcV2Aq7Q/w640-h640/Untitled+design-11.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p>There's always been this stigma about getting older. Like it's not fun and no one ever really wants to share their age. Am I right? </p><p><span> Well hey, my names tiffany and I'm genuinely excited to turn 28 years old today. </span></p><p><span><span> Reflecting on another year around the sun has always been something I enjoy. Reflection in general is where I thrive, never wanting to let this very special gift called life pass me by. Continually experiencing. Always growing.</span></span></p><p><span><span>And by now, I'd say there's a handful of lessons I've learned along the way. Things like:</span></span></p><p>1. Laugh a little more. It's good for the soul.</p><p>2. Embrace the season. There's <i>at least </i>one thing every night that you can find gratitude for.</p><p>3. Life is right here, right now. Don't spend so much time wrapped up in the past or too much time fixated on the future. Time is precious.</p><p>4. Keep choosing generosity. You'll experience the power of letting go and witness the impact it really makes,</p><p>5. Perspective is powerful. Every "bad" moment can be flipped with a mindset. </p><p>6. You can be content. You'll find this freedom when you transition from focusing on other people. The comparison trap stops here.</p><p>7. Give yourself grace. You'll mess up because you're human, over and over again.</p><p>8. Don't sweat the small stuff. You don't need to vacuum every night, girlfriend. Company doesn't care as much as you think.</p><p>9. What you do matters. Day in and day out, everything you put your hand to is changing the future.</p><p>10. Confrontation doesn't have to be negative. Conflict is just a new presented opportunity to be honest and grow in relationship. </p><p>11. It's your choice. Everything. What you think about. What you tell yourself. What actions you take. It's all a choice.</p><p>12. Give yourself more compliments. Really, you deserve it. Take a moment and look at all you're doing.</p><p>13. Change is hard because transition is never easy. Accept it and trust the process is doing good things for your character.</p><p>14. You are not responsible to fix everything. Take that load off your shoulders. It wasn't meant for you to carry.</p><p>15. Don't get stuck on your mistake. Or on anyone else's. This is a grudge free zone.</p><p>16. Do things that make you happy. It sounds easy, yet you can forget to make it a priority. </p><p>17. Authenticity is valued. Who you really are is likable. Who you are is accepted.</p><p>18. Say yes when it's hard. Find confidence in the stretch. Your yes could change your life or someone else's.</p><p>19. Also say no when it's hard. It's okay to use such a "bad" word. You need it.</p><p>20. God's hand is on your life. When you can and when you can't see.</p><p>21. Life is really what you make it. Make it rock! (cue the hannah montana theme song).</p><p>22. Slow down a little. Take a breath and rest. </p><p>23. There's still hope. When there's nothing left, hope always remains. </p><p>24. Don't stop doing good. Kindness always wins. </p><p>25. You can't please everyone. Only coffee can do that.</p><p>26. Less is more. You’re going to appreciate and actually love minimizing your life.</p><p>27. You're free to be you. You can love yourself imperfectly. </p>Tiffany Barretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00789522240554699522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4929078176682487360.post-78122206714416860502021-06-16T20:50:00.027-04:002021-11-27T15:24:18.520-05:00Myles Birth Story<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ri7wITfbhtn80cwPd9ToTpjSDYlPfh3XEIBUn_vLpSEJExF3WVqXgspFjsCJL6kZEURl66HV6qZjf30UpDA7ShYeajIVdkAPGalyuvmrM_Fb8hIX9M50tUBpfXS6XyIo8KrpaniM2Sk/s2048/F418B083-7F70-4970-ABD1-5538345E6816.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1366" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_ri7wITfbhtn80cwPd9ToTpjSDYlPfh3XEIBUn_vLpSEJExF3WVqXgspFjsCJL6kZEURl66HV6qZjf30UpDA7ShYeajIVdkAPGalyuvmrM_Fb8hIX9M50tUBpfXS6XyIo8KrpaniM2Sk/w427-h640/F418B083-7F70-4970-ABD1-5538345E6816.jpeg" width="427" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">photo by kortnimaria</div></div><br />May 14th, 2021 - it was the night before birthing, and all through the house, every human was stirring, yes even the mouse. Okay, but really, things may have been stirring up in our house as the anticipation of your arrival was surely felt.<p></p><p>The truth is, there’s been this little dream secretly kept in our hearts from the start. Just about four years ago now. This sweet reality that your arrival was gently tucked into the very middle of may. A month that was always imprinted in my soul to cradle you. A month that left deep anguish in past seasons would be a blessing in another. A true gift from God. An absolute redemptive story.</p><p>Your due date came and went, but I wasn’t at all surprised that we’re over the estimated time of your arrival. It was a replica of your brothers entrance to this vast world. A world we eagerly waited for you to be apart of. </p><p>Each day following the surpassing of carrying you for 40 weeks felt like you were coming. Braxton Hick after Braxton Hick. Walk after walk. Coffee after coffee. Nothing out of the ordinary until that night. Our very last night as a family of three.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkooOR0JtdT0-6HcSU6YhPUcx39bll88niCc9hnvlHaM68-UfO2VG8y3RCHD2WxV9q4UVxF77l-W1QjwNd6LDBotkbv86V4seRLZyJjcQYtVKFuinx1RkRbX0B1QU3QL6-7wA7HrI4s1U/s1800/6EC4E27A-E8E3-4409-86CE-AD490731480C.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkooOR0JtdT0-6HcSU6YhPUcx39bll88niCc9hnvlHaM68-UfO2VG8y3RCHD2WxV9q4UVxF77l-W1QjwNd6LDBotkbv86V4seRLZyJjcQYtVKFuinx1RkRbX0B1QU3QL6-7wA7HrI4s1U/w512-h640/6EC4E27A-E8E3-4409-86CE-AD490731480C.jpeg" width="512" /></a></div><p></p><p>Seeing my legs draped over an extra large exercise ball at our oversized DIY farmhouse table was nothing out of the ordinary. I did it just about every night at the end of our pregnancy journey. It was comfortable that way. It was thrilling knowing I was doing what was best for my body. For us. </p><p>Karson requests pancakes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner in which that night, our pre-labor meal would be just that. Blueberry pancakes…or was it chocolate chip? Honestly, what I do remember is that at least three of them filled my plate. And yes, three of them also filled my stomach.</p><p>I glanced at the clock knowing bed time was near. 6:30 pm. Your dad was kindly washing the dishes spilling over in the sink and filling every ounce of my pregnancy love tank by cleaning up. </p><p>Than I stood - POP.</p><p>I remember the utterance on my face was a total mix of emotions. Absolutely startled, slightly puzzled, and kind of thrilled. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglBgZVtn-NKHHjD-zd4Mm4_ny_1CxOXQJh74SpSPAUX_Yb8DNNIIV6eLyC4hfrtujVdOcOB2P9waqmugCMtwnADj5q4FUPe8DNU0Mh56D0UUuO7UJzluXK_yfFLsCTK6p9dcbNEEjjN5c/s2048/59D34607-4624-436F-92E3-9BD9C2906934.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglBgZVtn-NKHHjD-zd4Mm4_ny_1CxOXQJh74SpSPAUX_Yb8DNNIIV6eLyC4hfrtujVdOcOB2P9waqmugCMtwnADj5q4FUPe8DNU0Mh56D0UUuO7UJzluXK_yfFLsCTK6p9dcbNEEjjN5c/w480-h640/59D34607-4624-436F-92E3-9BD9C2906934.jpeg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p>“Umm, I’m pretty sure I heard a popping noise” were the only words I could muster up. And just like that, my water broke in the galley kitchen of our little, two bedroom apartment.</p><p>The look that carried radiantly across your dad’s face was one I’ll never forget. Joy, bliss, excitement. All expressions of our very real present time. We each hugged as giggles rolled off our lips. This was it. You were coming.</p><p>As I worked through minor contractions, Brandon made all the calls and grabbed all the things. Racing up and down the stairs with questions as I soaked up the last few moments I’d have with Karson before he left to visit with his aunt for the weekend. Surreal. A special moment. A final moment, together as just purely us. I felt it and I know he knew too.</p><p>It was 9:30 pm now and Karson was headed out the door with our incredible family. I could have dished out at least a dozen hugs and just shy of what felt like 100 kisses to our sweet boy before he was underway to his weekend getaway. One last wave and they all faded into the distance underneath a moonlit night.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinczAieewkyHp5Dy_US85pLZlTy9HRVaepNJimQvTuG77Iysm-MsTB0VvqaNtjVsSsvUOz62MK4czKYJtKOLs-Iw_T1ZQ8dkwsVWm-2nCvbhwe7f70arDkhSWrISJvHWLCaQUcKwtO8Pw/s2048/FB967103-C6C4-4B88-AA92-F7C23A47FDFE.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinczAieewkyHp5Dy_US85pLZlTy9HRVaepNJimQvTuG77Iysm-MsTB0VvqaNtjVsSsvUOz62MK4czKYJtKOLs-Iw_T1ZQ8dkwsVWm-2nCvbhwe7f70arDkhSWrISJvHWLCaQUcKwtO8Pw/w640-h640/FB967103-C6C4-4B88-AA92-F7C23A47FDFE.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p>Every contraction after became closer and closer. Working through as many as I could before racing to the hospital was always our game plan. We felt excited to do just that. Us. Your dad and I. That’s always been my favorite place to be. By 11:00 pm, I knew it was time to go.</p><p>With our bags packed and hearts ready, we hopped into the vehicle. It wasn’t long - two quick contractions later, until our legs hit the cold cement of the emergency center. A short walk to check in and next thing we knew, “ding”. We landed on the third floor of labor and delivery.</p><p>Questions and answers bounced off the walls of that quaint delivery room, as we all prepared for the arrival of our second son. A new day was just minutes away and I was overwhelmed at the joy that you were coming.</p><p>After settling in, it was confirmed my dilation was a 4cm. I knew your arrival was coming soon because every surge got stronger by the minute. Your dad turned on the worship music and we worked together side by side for the next hour, captured by the thought of your presence in our arms. We make the best team. He was the greatest coach.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGxlt6znQKbqgKi4Em34duXX0GvohcsgsIn51iVfMx2c4_UFo-18OHH6-GcfEzgynNXL4hA1IEk0QRoSHlhY7IH675AIWctvCeN-XFUmq8EurGNaLirbvhTRhPSunGjPWYgAugWv833iQ/s2048/1BAD33CC-DE8B-477C-A8A2-145DD0200477.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGxlt6znQKbqgKi4Em34duXX0GvohcsgsIn51iVfMx2c4_UFo-18OHH6-GcfEzgynNXL4hA1IEk0QRoSHlhY7IH675AIWctvCeN-XFUmq8EurGNaLirbvhTRhPSunGjPWYgAugWv833iQ/w640-h640/1BAD33CC-DE8B-477C-A8A2-145DD0200477.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p>At the cusp of 1:00 am, I had progressed to a 6 cm. We were doing this. It was fast. I felt every pain and these next two hours would test my strength beyond anything I’ve ever known. Labor hit heavy and my mind circled with negative thoughts. This was active labor now and I knew that. So did everyone else in the room. Discouragement knocked on every door of my heart quickly and unable to shake it, I swayed through many more close contractions.</p><p>It was roughly forty five minutes later and the water spilled across the tub floor. The sound eased my mind knowing that this might help me relax. Every minute that passed Brandon reminded me of this. He remained steadfast to the mission. Gazed into my eyes and declared the strength I had and the power of our God. He prayed and didn’t give up, even when I wanted to. </p><p>Completely out of my element, my feet breathed in the warmth of the bath and I soaked. For what felt like forever proved to be a short twenty minutes. Toss. Contraction. Turn. Contraction. Toss again. Contraction. Two minutes apart. Wailing at the agony of all that my body felt, I held tightly to your dads hand and pleaded. Begging for rest. My eyelids lowered and I found myself dozing off during the ninety second break. </p><p>“I know this wasn’t our plan, but it’s too hard. My body needs a break. I don’t think I can do this” I muffled. “I’m so sorry”. The words felt painful to leave my lips, but Brandon graciously loved me through every one. Supported me with every breath he could offer. He exited the room to call for the nurse.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjalgZyfdjq387vsOC-JzFHxkxKb0WjAhGQNuXflRNM1rvgbI7se4vrJNLzhi7ETLKzIcLfzz7x_eHbWv1NL-K8T9wKlFV9BSgmyxeZzlU5K6X0mS54OA5kCLmW9QqYsP8iGYP_5ycW9ow/s2048/AAFFA498-A94E-4ABD-B518-EDB66C7CA41D.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjalgZyfdjq387vsOC-JzFHxkxKb0WjAhGQNuXflRNM1rvgbI7se4vrJNLzhi7ETLKzIcLfzz7x_eHbWv1NL-K8T9wKlFV9BSgmyxeZzlU5K6X0mS54OA5kCLmW9QqYsP8iGYP_5ycW9ow/w640-h640/AAFFA498-A94E-4ABD-B518-EDB66C7CA41D.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p>The flashback of karsons birth came to mind when I recalled having to shuffle my way back to the bed. As soon as one contraction ended and a break began, I steered in that direction as quickly as I knew how. I tumbled into the bed at just about 2:30 am. 8 cm and counting. This was it. A undeniable gift from God. It was clear that you were coming and quick. “I don’t want the epidural anymore” I exclaimed gazing at Brandon. We can do this.</p><p>Hooked up to the monitor I ached through a handful of contractions. It was only moments later when I loudly claimed, “I need to push!”. Quickly, the nurse checked dilation. 9 cm. “But don’t push. Just work through some more contractions” her voice uttered. </p><p>It was 3 am and the atmosphere changed. Everything moved rapidly. The midwife arrived. I was on the bed and your dad was still cheering me on, every second by my side. </p><p>Breathing in, breathing out. It was a simple gesture that seemed to slip my mind these final moments before meeting you. With an oxygen mask cascading across my lips, we pushed several times for about fifteen minutes. Encouraging words flying across the room and bouncing off the walls. I leaned into every one. I needed them. Despite the desperate exhaustion, the pushes kept coming at every call.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNQHUoEaqZdMcKNu0n0wdc2nJIDHLF43EMa582kjkViuQ_QX9HJHy1GnS59msU7GmenJlh4yDKIuUQ_AU8Vz6Tln4Kl19FRuFE1sKX10sP1OkVHv13kI3I-wrthhqUZ2umK2jxSDfTpro/s2046/DADA3FCB-9252-4EF8-B919-E213A1AD67A7.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1537" data-original-width="2046" height="481" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNQHUoEaqZdMcKNu0n0wdc2nJIDHLF43EMa582kjkViuQ_QX9HJHy1GnS59msU7GmenJlh4yDKIuUQ_AU8Vz6Tln4Kl19FRuFE1sKX10sP1OkVHv13kI3I-wrthhqUZ2umK2jxSDfTpro/w640-h481/DADA3FCB-9252-4EF8-B919-E213A1AD67A7.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p>3:26 am and I entered into the reality of what I knew to be the most magical time of my life. You slipped into this big world and right into my very arms. I was overcome by utter joy. A kind of pure happiness that I’ve only felt a few moments of my life. You were here. You were on my chest and tears spilled out of our eyes. </p><p>I vocally uttered “oh my gosh, I love you”. No one could take that love I had for you away and no one ever will. Your dad and I did it. You did it. We welcomed you to the earthside the morning of May 15th, 2021 and I’ll simply never forget it.</p><p>Every ounce of pain left my body and your gentle touch was everything I could have ever dreamed of and even more.</p><p>8 lbs and 2 oz of pure bliss.</p><p>Myles Indy Barrett, so much love is wrapped around you. Always and forever.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWpfuH5GWWeEPTTqyi1OKPKznOVWh6U6STTVE2P-Yp_Ops7J3XY38BBDhyakIuEMwePVM5YlnQ9nosA3EqV0HKWh_HmoJB5wSH26_jdsmpAy-TyT0l2DAvrIqKDljdcDfBaHmV6CjyyVE/s2048/751E374B-4447-495E-85C8-F850A2E5BF2F.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWpfuH5GWWeEPTTqyi1OKPKznOVWh6U6STTVE2P-Yp_Ops7J3XY38BBDhyakIuEMwePVM5YlnQ9nosA3EqV0HKWh_HmoJB5wSH26_jdsmpAy-TyT0l2DAvrIqKDljdcDfBaHmV6CjyyVE/w640-h640/751E374B-4447-495E-85C8-F850A2E5BF2F.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p><br /></p>Tiffany Barretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00789522240554699522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4929078176682487360.post-3549716010261931992020-12-07T22:34:00.015-05:002021-11-27T15:24:53.796-05:00DIY Advent Calender <p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvk8FyoC0aAI3hDHdOzqpTkR7XQ6BYSk81hXG9N3zPZbYTmUMGakcI8tj8RWnmS8QodCmeSCa7qznfx2GCn6BSSyIE5h82CHNWDRDAiGac8trzgjKI_z-4k7b8vIScNYT1alztXBH2mUY/s2048/IMG_0314.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvk8FyoC0aAI3hDHdOzqpTkR7XQ6BYSk81hXG9N3zPZbYTmUMGakcI8tj8RWnmS8QodCmeSCa7qznfx2GCn6BSSyIE5h82CHNWDRDAiGac8trzgjKI_z-4k7b8vIScNYT1alztXBH2mUY/w640-h640/IMG_0314.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was sitting on the edge of December when I realized that we didn't have a advent calendar. We didn't have any monthly plans. We didn't have any of the expectations rolling out that I was originally anticipating. And we definitely had a very active and constantly full of life two year old who has so much appreciation for our daily surprise activities.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">What we did hold though was just enough - a knack for creativity. I believe wholeheartedly that it lives within everyone. Yes, even you.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So instead of hopping online to spend any additional money this holiday season and get that Advent calendar I felt was be missing, I sat and let my mind wander. Roam with creativity. Those few minutes turned quickly into action and I began designing something one material at a time.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This DIY project is one I think that you are going to love for a lot of different reasons. It's special because it's totally unique to you, your dreams, your family, your traditions, and your style. It's purposeful because it's time set aside to be artistic, original, and imaginative. It's fun because you can grab some friends or family and make it a yearly activity for the most magical time of year. It's also affordable because the majority of materials you'll want to have is your time. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpDlcMRRsCQ9caxW74n8QZb5a9OpQjR4EbreFQTeoZX3GEltX_9wYLcyfrZOd8W3nA0buFB68aOwm0dcDxYrSGHrunhQZTKc42PSArpWgw0ld4zcSaWaFPzX1I4I_ZZBzictaeNxcxj1I/s2048/IMG_0311.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpDlcMRRsCQ9caxW74n8QZb5a9OpQjR4EbreFQTeoZX3GEltX_9wYLcyfrZOd8W3nA0buFB68aOwm0dcDxYrSGHrunhQZTKc42PSArpWgw0ld4zcSaWaFPzX1I4I_ZZBzictaeNxcxj1I/w640-h640/IMG_0311.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">If you want to recreate an advent calendar that's most accurate to the one I'm sharing, you'll need just about 4-5 items that are most likely in your home right now.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">1. <i>Brown craft paper</i> - I purchased ours from Michaels. Fun fact: this was just extra wrapping that we had on hand for gifts. It's imperfectly and lovingly covered in paint on the back from one of our craft activities the day before. Who said you can't be multi-purposeful too? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">2. <i>A pen</i> - If you know me extremely well, you'll know that my preference is black ink pens and I adore the sensitive, calligraphy styles that instantly leave marks on your paper. That's not for everyone, so grab your favorite writing utensil and go for it!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">3. <i>A ruler or extra piece of paper</i> - Technically you don't <u>need</u> this item, but it can be aesthetically helpful if you like straighter lines and more precision. I simply used an extra piece of paper and measured a rough estimate of frames I envisioned creating with my knuckles. This is where you can get as professional and detailed as you'd like as you mimic open space squares of a calendar. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">4. <i>Circle scratch off stickers</i> - These came from an "catch all" folder in my desk from the extra DIY we did at Karson's first birthday bash last year. They are gold circle shaped scratch off stickers that can be found on Amazon with a simple search. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">5. <i>Twine</i> - Another Christmas goodie that was lingering at reach. We purchased this twine from Hobby Lobby to use for gift giving this year and it was the perfect last addition to wrapping up this project perfectly!</div></div></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAEx78OLk2iIi8rvHTQLKCI_Ag5JbY9zExC8hyNFVIYM_22RM4CdEMq4SJ-oPa47qh6jlIqt9lHTLSbYk2f76AAa_HrSdx1zmZatA_VWBx-yzJN3vS9Zzxwlh8V9_tPo9tKzzcLCZX7C0/s2048/IMG_0313.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAEx78OLk2iIi8rvHTQLKCI_Ag5JbY9zExC8hyNFVIYM_22RM4CdEMq4SJ-oPa47qh6jlIqt9lHTLSbYk2f76AAa_HrSdx1zmZatA_VWBx-yzJN3vS9Zzxwlh8V9_tPo9tKzzcLCZX7C0/w480-h640/IMG_0313.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Wyavsw_jmR85uv81UHkPOI9hvYAt_SlkhFlJcPsDI8ZZ1vP9FmOdbcw5nvA6cyW_YfNgHtr60thVsqz26jruT6lImRDZuh4WkJHGK7giU1B-N-KxnZp-QnPTObFXGggapGy59ApNcHg/s2048/IMG_0312.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Wyavsw_jmR85uv81UHkPOI9hvYAt_SlkhFlJcPsDI8ZZ1vP9FmOdbcw5nvA6cyW_YfNgHtr60thVsqz26jruT6lImRDZuh4WkJHGK7giU1B-N-KxnZp-QnPTObFXGggapGy59ApNcHg/w480-h640/IMG_0312.JPG" width="480" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Now for those few simple directions.<p></p><p>1. Start by cutting out the craft paper to the dimension you'd like the calendar to be. While you're determining size placement, you'll want to also want to consider if you want your calendar vertical or horizontal. </p><p>2. Begin crafting lines to make a 5x7 squares calendar matching your preference on measurements. I eyeballed this as I mentioned and you'll witness the proof in some of the close up photos :)</p><p>3. Mark numbers 1-25 in the designated spots that correspond with the days of the week. </p><p>4. Write down the advent surprises, activities, gifts, etc for each one of the twenty five days.</p><p>5. Place a scratch off sticker over your writing on each day.</p><p>6. Poke or punch two small holes at the top of the calendar and string a small piece of twine through them, connecting by tying a firm knot at the top.</p><p>7. Hang your calendar, add any of your favorite additional decor, and snap a photo to tag me on Instagram! </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJK5x6eAJgrYN0-_cv4NvzTwFGtKtcV65CZXZEWJPT38ji4Oe6UUgE9aQxjDKUg_ySvYNbQwoCnGAlz8PiEBsrPGYmcJRmvmQZoKu0aNce4N7b7Y0I9BKK4wXaxA7jeUpw6841gAGzIQ0/s2048/IMG_0310.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJK5x6eAJgrYN0-_cv4NvzTwFGtKtcV65CZXZEWJPT38ji4Oe6UUgE9aQxjDKUg_ySvYNbQwoCnGAlz8PiEBsrPGYmcJRmvmQZoKu0aNce4N7b7Y0I9BKK4wXaxA7jeUpw6841gAGzIQ0/w640-h640/IMG_0310.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I can't wait to see what you create! Thanks for letting me play a small role in helping you create your own DIY advent calendar where each of those special memories will unfold in your home this holiday season. Counting it as a joy! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Merry Christmas, friends.</div><p></p>Tiffany Barretthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00789522240554699522noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4929078176682487360.post-12048670004112384032020-06-29T15:51:00.041-04:002021-11-27T15:13:48.697-05:00A Decade Of Us<div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ90yNfUNf3CEUmaY6h06sqN4oBDrBLYIqQkmNbBWmI5Rb_XxmgcsNutguorBKpkAxKxhNoouaek6kftOS1WKCN15vz4YANZa95jDOalcT0-UQakuMpOOEfYvFWg3eX9sBEjizTeDXu9E/s960/52690348_10157123403572292_4245379020939591680_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ90yNfUNf3CEUmaY6h06sqN4oBDrBLYIqQkmNbBWmI5Rb_XxmgcsNutguorBKpkAxKxhNoouaek6kftOS1WKCN15vz4YANZa95jDOalcT0-UQakuMpOOEfYvFWg3eX9sBEjizTeDXu9E/w640-h426/52690348_10157123403572292_4245379020939591680_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">Our story is my favorite. It's filled with an abundance of apologizes and yet cascaded with love. Heartbreaks and still positioned for grace. Dreams and always including one another. A kind of adoration that only grows stronger each year. One that cannot be broken. A gift from dating as High School sweethearts, to becoming engaged, and what we get to call our marriage today.</div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">Let's be real, we'll never be a perfect couple or perfect people with the perfect relationship. It can look cute or inspiring on the outside, but as you peek in, you'll find that this is clearly just not possible. It never will be. We know that and so do you. Every corner of our marriage still cries for hard work as it should and our past is full of cracks that leaked out heartfelt tears over and over again as we were challenged to keep walking hand in hand through some of the biggest relational hardships we'd unexpectidely ever face. That's what happens when two broken people come together. The flaws of the process. They're never pretty, but most certainly appreciated when we see the harvest on the other side. A not so easy road, but together. Now that's my favorite place to be.</div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">"What God has joined, let no one separate (Matthew 19:6)</div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">It was June 29th, 2010 at 3:13am. The text came through as my girl friends and I headed off for a terribly late or should we say morning adventure. We were teenagers then. It was before the tiredness of life poured in and adulting became our present reality. Twenty six miles stood between us as we continued our existence at different schools with unlikely friends, separate families, and contrasting paths that would all eventually lead us to oneness. </div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">"Will you be my girlfriend?" the words lit up my flip phone and my heart fluttered. I can still recall the very place that my feet hit the ground when he sent that to me. "Aww yes" I most likely replied back. I was giddy, girly, and totally gung ho for you. And the rest is history, am I right? Well, I'd say no. Surely this story of ours is still being written and there's so much to reveal and learn from what we call our past. </div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">I met Brandon in early 2010. Our paths crossing at a mutual friends local band concert in the center of St.Albans, Vermont. What was a desperate plead to my parents to drive me to this concert turned into so much more than any one of us could have ever imagined. Only a destiny orchestrated by God for our lives to intertwine because if I'm honest, getting to this concert was a real bargain with the ones who cared for me. Mom and dad came through and still shine as the MVP's in playing a major role at the center of our meeting. </div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">"I like your shoes" were the first four words we exchanged. "Thanks", I smiled. I knew he was cute, but every part of my 5 feet and 10 inch self told me he was too short. Well, that didn't last. Through out the rest of the evening we shared laughs, swapped smiles, and traded contact information as the sun fell over the horizon. What I'm about to say will leave you thinking that we sound extremely old, but I can assure you that's not totally the case here. I mean it could be depending on the time that this is being read. Brandon requested my number and he gave me his email. Yes, you read that correct. Email. An electronic message that would keep us corresponding as we continued to grow our friendship. A sixteen year old without a cellphone is counter cultural today, but we're also re-living an entire decade ago so we are surely convinced that things have changed a lot. As odd as it is, I've actually grown to cherish this part of our narrative and think it's kind of cute being playfully unique.</div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">Through facebook messages, myspace comments, and little emails, we stayed in touch over the next couple of months. We got together with mutual friends on a few occasions that my parents were kind enough to drive me to his hometown or those rare occurrences when he would visit mine. We mindlessly would flirt, send hearts back and forth, kiss a lot (yup), and really there was just no hiding our crushes for one another. </div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">It's neat to look back on these sweet memories and ponder on what brought us together. Two hipster teens who had a hardcore love for music, tight skinny jeans, band t-shirts, and bakery story games. It led us here, to our little family, button ups for him, dresses for me, and of course tight jeans still making their debut. Falling in love with you more everyday. A love that was never just found, but built, day in and day out. </div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">Some of my favorite memories during my lifetime were created with you. 3,650 days of recollections to peer into during my 9,865 days of existence. It's beautiful that it's you I get to have, to hold, and to have this incredible gift to have called you a friend first, a boyfriend next, then a fiancé, and now a husband all in this decade of "us".</div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">To then and now, forever.</div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">Happy 10 years of together <3 </div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;">And to the women and men who are single, who’ve been hurt in a relationship, divorced, widowed, or any another other circumstance, please don’t let go of hope. Stand confident and rest in the assurance that God will guide every step of your path. I may not understand, but I empathize with every emotion that you hold in your heart. They’re real and deserve to be understood. Every journey is different and I believe that God is working in this very moment to lead each step of yours. All of our stories are still being penned.</div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSC3tR313tRzCwAeTQ9Gq-RZOILSUi7AneKcSk_Ngxj_mCxxvlUgTGcoARO9uG0-HuxQ-ICc4ynQUqmOFF8_4vnWW9VnBua3tC2N0-zj-bDRTshmkioY0DRE7SJy7Xe0esPJRg8pKJp0/s512/33559_170508579632275_6553979_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="512" height="469" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSC3tR313tRzCwAeTQ9Gq-RZOILSUi7AneKcSk_Ngxj_mCxxvlUgTGcoARO9uG0-HuxQ-ICc4ynQUqmOFF8_4vnWW9VnBua3tC2N0-zj-bDRTshmkioY0DRE7SJy7Xe0esPJRg8pKJp0/w500-h469/33559_170508579632275_6553979_n.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCGOvVGj8yr9YtFC4moq9O6e14UUkMJtJl4FmgtLND_nVg8-SP18GnxHHiHAvkADFyAmUc3p3M6FDciuf266rW_0LWBpbUuPGQQ30Jp4jY615Q-9t3Syr1wdJU0MvOsrCupQRKVSm8kcI/s720/167269_484067403817_2252568_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="540" data-original-width="720" height="375" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCGOvVGj8yr9YtFC4moq9O6e14UUkMJtJl4FmgtLND_nVg8-SP18GnxHHiHAvkADFyAmUc3p3M6FDciuf266rW_0LWBpbUuPGQQ30Jp4jY615Q-9t3Syr1wdJU0MvOsrCupQRKVSm8kcI/w500-h375/167269_484067403817_2252568_n.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiktlWdn_8L4a0BRD3-px5ISQp6OHN8Z2aqH5xdrAGO48i9LvOdZQDo-jrGS06p49EIJ5riemMzeS1KA4NEsHrMXnlMmdecEUS95UsaYdna9FWhShCPV22bjx9LcaFokDfUJkjmcUPBYhE/s480/IMG_2303.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="480" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiktlWdn_8L4a0BRD3-px5ISQp6OHN8Z2aqH5xdrAGO48i9LvOdZQDo-jrGS06p49EIJ5riemMzeS1KA4NEsHrMXnlMmdecEUS95UsaYdna9FWhShCPV22bjx9LcaFokDfUJkjmcUPBYhE/w500-h500/IMG_2303.JPG" width="500" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4929078176682487360.post-65970906615653263762020-06-21T16:00:00.004-04:002021-11-27T15:13:58.113-05:00To My Husband On Fathers Day <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8i0ZLYx3YN1kjieiOhZ9RUAUrJVKHxuLifo8qT7H72Gkx7FLwKvGfUwLJ8fm2Y6kd2ACYVNegZSL6LJ65d1RWEYJRsADoVPsKMwN2GWABFzLokyqBADbrhwGl_S7ec6bGImyt_4Gkqcg/s2048/IMG_2739bw.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; 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<br />
<br />
Dear Brandon,<br />
<br />
I never could imagine I could love you more than I ever had, but then you became a dad. A father to our sweet boy in twenty eighteen. Every part of my heart grew as I watched you step into a role that simply couldn't be anymore perfect for you. A man of integrity, joy, compassion, strength, and total fun. You always had it in you even before we met our boy.<br />
<br />
I watched as you showered our little babe with love and constantly arrive for those 2:00am hungry cries. I witnessed you say no to hot coffee on too many occasions and always put our son first. I see you laugh, I see you smile, I see you learn, and I see you show up everyday with a smile to let Karson know that you will always be there. I see it all.<br />
<br />
And even before I witnessed you adore this little one here, I watched as you were smitten with him as he quietly grew inside of me. Rarely missing a night singing to him, reaching your hands out at every kick, and praying over each of us. Cooking on my behalf more than I can count, assisting or maybe laughing at me as I struggled to put on my shoes as we ended the third trimester, and showing unconditional support as I grew our child. I'll remember every way you showed up then and every way you show up today.<br />
<br />
I'll never forget the way you lit up October 30th, 2018 when you and I met Karson for the first time. I'll never forget the countless times you swaddled him to sleep or the way you ran when he cried. I'll never forget how you snapped all the videos so not a memory was missed and stayed up late hours to purée food.<br />
<br />
I'll always remember the way you caught him when he fell, kissed every boo-boo, and never missed bath time. The way that you play for hours by his side and dance with him to all of his favorite songs. The way you give him 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and maybe even 5th chances with grace and humility. His smile is bigger because of you. My heart, well that’s forever full because of who you are to us.<br />
<br />
And to our littlest love that was born into the beauty of heaven, I watched you care for them the twelve special weeks we shared together. Always together. Us, a family of four, forever. They caught your breath at the moment we shared in the news. They observed your strength as you carried us from the very beginning. You never stopped celebrating even in our darkest nights and you reminded our family that Jesus is always close, weaving each part of our story until the very end. Holding me close, holding us near until our hardest “see you soon” came. Through every up and down, you never change.<br />
<br />
We have so much to thank you for and an entire lifetime of love for you.<br />
<br />
Happy Father's Day <3Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4929078176682487360.post-43449007309814448922020-06-18T22:28:00.011-04:002021-11-27T15:26:18.029-05:00Our Pregnancy Loss<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMlvuYbelEcpxWJyeGYRRnDO1gOLmKV3YcHsprq-3nMhh43hgs76xt6_kFgCqxmeckVO-_t4FwrAG6E7XdxV7ZQVvMrzMqEtHGlYBTbhjo4wUymg1xc0hoVaGOPi-xD4g5hSnAfM1vO-Y/s960/105494938_10158615360342292_6537283092995843054_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMlvuYbelEcpxWJyeGYRRnDO1gOLmKV3YcHsprq-3nMhh43hgs76xt6_kFgCqxmeckVO-_t4FwrAG6E7XdxV7ZQVvMrzMqEtHGlYBTbhjo4wUymg1xc0hoVaGOPi-xD4g5hSnAfM1vO-Y/w300-h400/105494938_10158615360342292_6537283092995843054_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
Life is built through experience, good and bad, joyful and hard, trying and true. It's celebrated and it's unsung. Seasons through and through, each of us see it all.<br />
<br />
My heart stings. Every inch of it aches at the thought of this unimaginable experience. What will soon be a memory, but is yet etched so deeply within my soul, I'll simply never forget it. Emotionally broken, totally unstable.<br />
<br />
Theres this impulse lingering to put this hurt somewhere. To simply bleed spilling out words, not to pawn it off and hide it away pretending that it no longer exists. But to free it. To mold, shape, and build it into something, anything really. Permission to be patient, vulnerable, and exposed. Embracing discomfort with everything I have. I don't like that. Aches and pains, we never really got along, but we managed. This though, this kind of weight is unlike anything else. It's tremendous, over bearing, and just plain difficult, yet I'm so very aware that those feelings aren't running away anytime soon. They'll forever linger inside as I grow stronger. Trusting that as I engage, mourn, and simply live, I give myself the freedom to heal. Steadfastly holding onto the truth that the path before me will unveil in His perfect time and uncover His undeniable strength through my very real weakness.<br />
<br />
May 31st, 2020. The day life felt snatched under my feet. Taken in a single moment, a split second what twelve weeks worked so hard to create. A life. A sweet little creation that just two months prior was welcomed with joyful hearts and ready arms. Now, having to let go. Having to say goodbye and walk in the actuality that this is tanigable. That this is our life.<br />
<br />
It's certainly an unfair world we live in. Unimaginable hardships around every corner whether in our families, our finances, our careers, our bodies. Truly, the list goes on and on. And now this unbearable misfortune is apart of our story. The hard reality I face that miscarriage exists everywhere despite how much that word has no acceptance in my heart. The very place in time where life, birth, and death all co-exist. It happened to us.<br />
<br />
Even when there are no words, I'm making the effort trying to conjure up just something, enough so that God's glory would be displayed through our suffering. Yes, it's terribly difficult to re-live and share your vulnerability with the world, but I also find it awkwardly relieving. Alleviating some of our own long lived pain hoping that our path might just bring encouragement to another couple who may be currently, will unfortunately, or have unwillingly participated through this tragedy. Or maybe lean into a heart reassuring that they are not alone. Hope can be found. I'm certain it can.<br />
<br />
I'm compelled, utterly convinced that sharing our family's narrative is important in some way. Whether it plays a big role or a tiny part in a life, it's important to me. This space here is safe. It's authentic and you'll always find genuine lifestyle content. Real stories and a real friend. Shoulder to lean on, friend to clap with. My desire is you'll find both because that is the radiance of life. Our stories are made up of several chapters, not just one pretty book. And friends, thats the rhythm here at the Heart To Home blog.<br />
<br />
Now, let's take a moment to celebrate shall we?<br />
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On March 30th, 2020 at 9:00am, my little toddler and I took a pregnancy test. I say we chuckling with the thought that there is just not much privacy with a growing family. Intentionally I was totally suspicious because some things didn't line up with the female human body. I figured if I was going to take a test, I was going to record the results with the anticipation of <i>just in case</i>. Something in me knew. There's this secret connection I believe woman have when they're growing life inside of them that leaves a mark of awarness even before the little lines pop up on the pregnancy test.<br />
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"Here we go" I said. Moments later there they were. Two lines, two people, and three beating hearts in the room. Everything in me burst with excitement of course for countless reasons why, but one of those being a desire I've always tucked into a little corner of my heart. That aspiration to have a surprise to share with my husband knowing that this secret was safe with me and God....well and Karson too.<br />
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Just three years ago when we found out we were parents to this fun boy, the news came in during a random trip to the hospital due to some breathing trouble I'd been experiencing after a family vacation. <i>"You're pregnant. Congrats!" </i>the doctor uttered as he opened and then closed the door softly upon his departure. We had never been more thrilled to hear those words, but it also wasn't the most creative way to spill the beans. So having the privilege of carrying a test marked positive had always been a dream I tucked quietly away. <br />
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The anticipation grew in those next few days and again the following morning on March 31st at 6:46am, two lines peeked through. The grin wouldn't hide, but my cool factor kept me undetectable. I knew how I would tell Brandon. It was a match made in heaven knowing his birthday was now just 48 hours away. <i>I have to go to Target </i>my mind spoke frantically. Instantly flooded with ideas on how to create the most special impression.<br />
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April 1st, 6:41am. Is it apparent that our toddler is an earlier riser yet? The digital test broke out after the Target haul the previous night. Everything was coming together for Brandon's 26th birthday. The balloons, the cake, and the biggest gift of all. Four squares filled the screen and then...."pregnant" it read. The world stopped and I cried. Like ugly cried. Carrying life is one of the most honorable callings I've been grateful to receive and this blessed me in every single way.<br />
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Now too pack up the box. There was a home made card, a honey stick, baby comb, and that digital pregnancy test I knew would blow his mind. Tucked on top of an adorable cream colored knitted baby blanket, I closed the box, opened it again, soaked in the moment, closed it, and hid it away in the closet until the next morning.<br />
<br />April 1st, 2020. Cascading down every inch of our tiny dining room wall were assortments of balloons that Brandon would pop to find out what the day had in store. Two hours. It would be two hours when that shining star inflatable bag filled with air would pop and the news poured out. 120 minutes and we would revel over this beautiful life together. The <i>4</i> of us hopped into the car and onto the adventure.<br />
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I'll cherish this picture forever, this day for the rest of my life. Happiness in its purest form. Catching our breath after our afternoon trail walk, the blanket plummeted against the earth and held my whole world. My boys sat and the unwrapping begun. My heart throbbing with overflowing emotions of excitement. Unraveling the string came first. Next the top of the box. And finally the tissue paper lifted up and so did my husbands eyebrows. Then it came. His mouth dropped and the biggest smile lit up my soul. I couldn't help but feel like it was my birthday too.<br />
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Documenting the most adorable "big brother" photos, sending out announcements cards to our family, and eating all of the gluten free pasta filled the next six weeks. I felt like I hadn't smiled like this in a long time. 2019 was a heavy year losing some of our closest family members on this side of eternity and facing unusual battles in every corner.<br />
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It was ten days after Mother's Day. Another check up. The doctor and I walked down the hallway and onto the bed I was instructed. Silence filled that cold ultra sound room. The next moments took every inch of breath away as the scan proceeded.<i> "I wish I was wrong"</i>. My head spun. My whole body shook. My eyes filled in an instant with tears that could no longer hide behind a puzzled face. The rest of that 60 minutes felt like a blur. Physically and emotionally untapped from the world around me, I shuffled quickly to the elevator.<br />
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Ding. As the elevator door opened a sigh of relief released into the air. Thankful to be alone, I breathed in and slapped floor 1 with my elbow (thanks Covid). Down and down I went. It felt like no coinsidence that I was going to the bottom floor. It couldn't be more accurate that the perception of my existence in that very instant identified perfectly with the levels wrenched lower and lower.<br />
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Moments later the elevator reached the bottom floor and I had to walk out. Continue my everyday life and go home to this burdened reality. Passing everyone around me, feeling absolutely disconnected to life, yet knowing this secret was tucked behind a mask, literally and figuritevely. The next news awaiting Brandon would shatter us both.<br />
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Pacing across town, I finally reached my husband and collapsed in his arms. Every part of me giving freedom to be anything but a total mess. Heart split and tears poured. The level of emotional turmoil was far too extensive to put into words. Grief, ache, pain, empathy, and agony spilled at the site of where we sat. The sad truth that this anguish would never leave, but only grow more bearable in time.<br />
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With empty hearts, a soon to be empty womb, and empty answers, the next four weeks were honestly spent being gracefully and utterly broken. Searching for God voice, clinging to scripture, reaching for helping hands, and being offered incredible support as the report slowly emerged. <i>Take time for you, be upset, you'll have a chance to try again, hang in there, I'm here, and you don't have to share it with the world all echoed during that period.</i> All while we transitioned from celebration to healing, we felt lucky to not be alone. Not to carry the heaviness of this burden by ourselves. Not enough thank you's will ever be able to express this in it's entirety.<br />
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<br />I imagined those letters on the test slowly fading away as our loved child followed. You find out your growing life, you nurture your body, plan the nursery, buy the books, tell the friends, stop drinking caffeine, and boom. Toil kicks in to an extreme and all of sudden the smiles turn to pain. Plans to failed attempts. Love to fear. Life as you know it crashes and you sense every part of the impact.<div><br /><div>During our encounter with pregnancy loss, there were some takeaways our family learned in this extensive time.<br />
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The first, this baby is and will always be a gift to us. Apart of our family forever. I see becoming a mother and father incredibly different now than I had before. My belief is that we don't "become" a parent when our littles enter the world, but from the moment of conception is when we press play. No matter what age our children are, they will be loved dearly as a family member even if they don't make it into our arms. Their life is treasured and valuable. 12 weeks or 12 years, they're still ours. Karson will continue to be a great big brother from the inside and on the outside. It was important that we made it evident that this pregnancy and this child was not a fail, but a human being that made us a parent to two which doesn't change even when our hearts desperately cry to have them here with us.<br />
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The biggest thing we had to exercise in the middle was this reminder to continue to find enjoyment in the meaningful memories of what was. There was a moment in time where Brandon and I stoped the chaos of life around us to lean into this truth that we can still be happy about the videos captured during our pregnancy, the minutes we dreamed up about what life was going to look like in November of 2020, the special occasions with two children on board like Brandon's birthday or Mothers Day, and even those "big brother" photos we caught as we eagerly awaited for the day we would share the news. Yes, even that is worth cherishing because those brought us happiness and I'd think it's possible now it still can.<br />
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We've never looked at Karson more special. Our hearts fully open to gratitude of who we have. We've always shared this incomparable connection with him, but now, now it's different. More notable than ever before. Staring at his chunky toes and studying his tiny fingers. Holding him closer, holding him tighter. We've always loved him, but presently we embrace this idea that our love has only grown bigger and deeper than ever before. It's like a hidden lesson in the loss. Never take anything for granted. We knew that before, but this, this ushered us to be reminded of it.</div><div><br /></div><div>The rocky soil we trudged down brought us into a deeper connection with God. It taught us to ask hard questions and leave with the acceptance that He is sovereign. It helped us encounter fervent prayer as we taped pictures and though felt intercessions upon walls of our home. It vastly convicted us of some areas in our hearts and habits we would need to change to give full surrender of our lives to Him. And it was the loud reminder that God alone has got the whole world in His hands, including our child and our plans.<br />
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And finally, acceptance. This word I battled with in my head for weeks on edge. From the very moment my feet dangled at the edge of that hospital bed to the 2:30am wake up call in full fledge labor, I didn't want to believe this was my life. The sharp truth that existence now would have to gone on like this. My mind numb, our souls hurt. One day a God given thought popped into my head on a sunny afternoon. Peering out our living room window, the revelation hit like a ton if bricks. <i>You can be upset, thats okay. You can feel sad and that's okay too, but you won't live in a bottomless pit forever. You're going to make it on the other side of this pain. No amount of frustration will ever change what already happen.</i> God showing up and showing off. My optimistic personality and Jesus within me clearly taking center stage. I needed to weep over this loss, but I also was going to be the cheerleader for myself and my husband to see the light and continue to pick us up out of the trench. So, here as you read these words, I've come to accept this as our story. It's not the end. It's a chapter. A heart-wrenching, soul searching, gut twisting chapter. Despite how many times I sit on the emotional roller coaster, the narrative crafted so beautifully for our family is in the best authors hands, Jesus Himself. We will come out on the other side, knowing God certainly will give this moment purpose. That’s our hope. What else do we have anyway? Because faith never prevents you from getting kicked down. And surely if God hasn’t left us yet, there’s reassurance He won’t leave us here either.<br />
<br />The inevitable tears and family isolation have brought us here. At this time to bring forth healing and honor this beautiful baby in every way we possibly can. To share their story and tell ours. There will never be a day that goes by where our little one is not thought about, missed, or loved. We may have wrestled with answers we might not ever see on this of eternity, but today marks a step in the right direction. It happened and for whatever reason why, we rest assured you are in perfect hands. Jesus's love is far greater than ours. God carrying you in heaven sweet one and us carrying you in our hearts.<br />
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We can't wait to meet you one day, Brighton Faven Barrett. We love you.</div><div>
<br /></div></div>Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4929078176682487360.post-85019750930858371262020-03-20T21:54:00.004-04:002021-11-27T15:26:29.382-05:0010 Things We Learned When Disconnecting From Social Media<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmYmgQIMTMWSm_dKUn19fgPOKLAusYzoU-o-HrJoyLdCUI-5SP-ozb_Wbn72sQ3dywj-ootS49PpFsq3XONrKk2MsT4Vua1VdVypcyfbiPunLqwWc9ufKsalGKD9Cj6UwjBn2puDJ_74o/s960/11988498_10153621635057292_5055675614793662665_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmYmgQIMTMWSm_dKUn19fgPOKLAusYzoU-o-HrJoyLdCUI-5SP-ozb_Wbn72sQ3dywj-ootS49PpFsq3XONrKk2MsT4Vua1VdVypcyfbiPunLqwWc9ufKsalGKD9Cj6UwjBn2puDJ_74o/w640-h427/11988498_10153621635057292_5055675614793662665_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">At the beginning of the year I stepped into 2020 with a fresh insight and took a break from social media for ten days. Both my husband and I agreed to take the adventure together and held each other accountable each passing day. After a long day at work, my husband Brandon would arrive home and over dinner we’d do our annual check in, “Were you good today?” I'd always ask. This was my avenue to see if he stayed off of social media during our eight hour distance apart.</span></span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">To my utter surprise, at the end of this experience we made it the entire 240 hours away from the internet. The only real way to describe these ten days was as if I was taking many beautiful breaths of fresh air. I was so enlightened and encouraged by the particiaption that by the end of our break I was ready to dive into another week the following month. Then the month after that and so on.</span></span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">It wasn’t this way at the beginning of the adventure though. I was convinced that this wouldn’t even work. I wasn't going to last the entirety of our goal and if I most likely couldn't, my assumption was neither would Brandon (sorry babe!). Between you and me, he has a special place in his heart for his Samsung Galaxy S10E. I mean, he’s a tech guy, that comes with the title, am I right? </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">A little backstory before we dive into the details of what we took away from this experiment. At the start of this new year, it's become more important to our family to set goals, choose a word, pray, and now to add to our list, fast. This word <i>fast</i> has become pretty favored in our day and age for different measures. To us, this task illustrates a willful re-frainment from food, activities, or lifestyle choices for a period of time as an act of worship to God. It's a biblical principle that can be found all throughout Scripture. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Within the </span>14,400 minutes our eyes and minds didn't cross paths with the world wide web, we channeled ten instruments we'll continue to develop over the continual seasons of life. Between Brandon and I, we're sharing five each that resognated with us the most and why we think it's important to advance with this habit in mind when it comes to disconnecting from social media outlets.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">To me, this time holds a special place in my heart. It re-connected me to physical life and helped me appreciate beyond my recent capacity. The smiles of my son came alive. The taste of my morning coffee was seemly more delicious. And the stillness of a late afternoon never filled my heart more. It was a new sense of connection that I've missed and a new appreciation for a present lifestyle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">To Brandon, this was an eye opener. He came to this simple yet, powerful perspective that we don't need social media to know what people are actually doing. He was inspired to reach out to others more regularly. His attention grew to thoughtful actions as he engaged in conversations instead of watching the life of others from the outside.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I also got a handle on how much time I actually pursued facebook, instagram, and pinterest. In the process of disconnecting a new abundance of minutes showed up at my front door and I could start utilizing them. I began tackling tasks I've wanted to either catch up on always wished I had "time" for. This was life changing for me as I began venturing out on a project that I have spent years dreaming about. Seeing it come to the start of fruition was a beautiful opportunity.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">With my husband, being in nature is one of his favorite things to do. I wouldn't say all year round with the snow, but a portion of our time here in the North East. Disconnecting online gave him more of a reason to get outside. Going outdoors was proven to be more beneficial for his wellbeing and happiness than mindlessly scrolling through feeds on social media. He choose to feed his soul instead.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Half way there and I couldn't be more excited about point number five. During these ten days, it was exceptional to see that relationships I have with friends and family blossom. The consistency of community was a fresh revelation to consider those in my corner that I simply could miss getting back to with my mind boggled all day with my phone in hand. Lesson learned.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Brandon made an incredible point when he broke down the importance of checking in on people emotionally. This really knocks all the rest of these lessons out of the park because to me this is by far the most important. The rhythm of his kindness is evident in all he does and it challenged me too. You can't always tell how people are by checking what their status is online. 99% of the time, the posts you see in freeze frame are generally not elaborating on how that person is feeling on the inside. This is what we need most.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I also grew in my confidence at rocket speeds. Real talk, friends. I'm letting you in on a deep place in my heart. So much scrolling and so little did I understand that my heart was growing weary with getting discouraged by what others were doing. It was a constant roller coaster I couldn't get off of feeling like I was missing out. If I was always engulfed in the lives of others, I came to the healthy conclusion that what I was missing was simply my own life and my own happiness. Social media distancing was what I needed to engage in here and there. I wouldn't have stepped into this assurance if I didn't take the step back to learn.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">This is one we touched on a little earlier, but my husband also took root in this life example. Disconnecting from the internet helped him declutter not only the space around him, but also his mind. It produced a new sensitivity to his surroundings and wasn't clouded by the fog of constantly being present online. If you want to set your mind free, this is the solution.</span></span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">Finally, during these ten days I really tapped into what it's like to be creative again. This. I needed this more than I even thought. Having a originative outlet has been significant for me as a person. Over the course of learning about my tendencies and reflecting on my life, I've been able to determine that my creativity window has decreased since childhood. I loose touch of what it's like to be original, to spark an idea, create, or try something new without any pressure of what someone else would think. It's a 2020 goal that I'm reaching for when it comes to imagination. I choose to imagine again.</span></span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-kerning: none;">In the end, it also gave Brandon the chance to discover something fresh and take the time to enjoy it. With a busy life and a constant on the go routine, empty space is missing in the agendas of people today. It's where we fill up and find ourselves. It's where we grow and flourish. This was absolutely evident as I watched him engage in something that made him smile and we even had the extra time to chat about it too!</span></span><br />
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Brandon and I enjoyed this time of fasting from the world wide web. We grew in our marriage, with our family, in our relationship with others, with ourselves, and most importantly with God. It's favorable we will continue to visit these action over the course of the year and surely in the beginning of 2021.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">We're big advocates for the social world and love what it offers to lifestyle today, but like everything else, we believe in moderation and the importance of rest. Just like our bodies need to recuperate after a workout, I'd say the same thing about our minds. Shutting them down and positioning them to experience our own life story is so important. It'd be such a shame to miss that as life simply passes by. It's time to really start living. </span></div>
<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4929078176682487360.post-80896222640143636222019-10-11T22:50:00.007-04:002021-11-27T15:26:59.083-05:00Theres More To The Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6ecLic93YTdsn49KJ5NjEHnRJoLKq94adSI-EAsXjpjJgz7FUFr_7af7EX155E3bl4G6SCXkDsiOjJ4Wp7EePybrlTz25tToQIN6Y7XPQnE5zo4boiciuJsHu8XiSjxNx3E4LSVFXQc/s2048/2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6ecLic93YTdsn49KJ5NjEHnRJoLKq94adSI-EAsXjpjJgz7FUFr_7af7EX155E3bl4G6SCXkDsiOjJ4Wp7EePybrlTz25tToQIN6Y7XPQnE5zo4boiciuJsHu8XiSjxNx3E4LSVFXQc/w640-h640/2.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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For me, it was two years ago. I was home that warm August afternoon. Probably anticipating the arrival of all and maybe enjoying something pumpkin spiced because theres two things you should know about me. I adore fall and I'm a total homebody. Now I can't remember what I was doing in those moments, but I still recall the quiet that filled the air as my husband shuffled through our not so silent door. Can I tell you why it wasn't so silent? We had a little Christmas bell on it from the year before. Yup, the year before. Ask me why and I really couldn't tell you. It just had never made it down into that "Christmas Decor" box we keep in our basement.</center>
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The look on his face as he walked in the door left me puzzled. It's as if he had met an unfriendly guy named shame moments before we locked eyes. Like he had a meeting with pure disappointment and a hard trip with reality. The utter sorrow that filled his face couldn't be missed. I've known my husband, Brandon for almost an entire decade now and that's a face that I rarely ever saw.</center>
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"Whats wrong?", I asked as my heart quickly filled with total anxiety. In a story like this, I want to say I instantly wrapped my arms around him in comfort and everything was better because maybe some road rage was boiling on the inside from a recent experience and surely that would be fine, but that wasn't the happy ending. There's more to the story.</center>
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The next four words shook me. Shook me because it was a total shock. 'I lost my job' he uttered under his breath. It came as a surprise to both of us. So unexpected. So sudden. So surreal. Like it couldn't actually happen to the hardworking, authentic, good guy I was married to. It just can't, but it did.</center>
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A thousand and one scenarios and worries scattered across my active mind mainly trying to process what not only happened, but what was going to happen. What life would look like next as we adventured into the unfamiliar. As we transition into a season of change. Change is traumatic whether good or bad. It's a new experience and sometimes new experience means your heart has to catch up to what's actually happening. And that's where we stood.</center>
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What are we going to do? Will we be able to financially stay afloat? Is my husband going to be okay? How could this even happen? We just moved here. What is going on? These were just a few of the thoughts that stole my joy, my peace, and my security with four simple words.</center>
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Fast forward two months and you'll find Brandon standing before one of the best opportunities he's yet to receive. A new routine and a new experience that seems fitting for a guy like him. And in the process of those eight weeks of prayer, eight weeks of uncertainty, and eight weeks of waiting, my favorite ending to the story is this:</center>
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<i>Sometimes God closes one door so a new one can open.</i></center>
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There was a purpose even when we couldn't see, answer, or understand why. A life situation that didn't seem all that good in those moments, but turned out far better than we could have imagined.</center>
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I don't know what your story looks like right now or what you may be walking through, but my biggest desire is that this brings you hope. Hope in knowing that even when life looks uncertain, everything will work out. Even when you can't wrap your head around that thing that happened to you, you'll find peace that better is coming. When you question why life looks different than you anticipated, cling to this simply truth: there's always more to the story. It's time to turn the page and start your next chapter.</center>
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Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4929078176682487360.post-7967439621554085512018-12-11T11:41:00.004-05:002023-06-26T01:19:37.707-04:00Karson's Birth Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Tuesday, October 30th, I still remember the cool autumn breeze that day. The first snowfall of the season actually. It didn't just begin that way though. Not there, not then. Our hearts were truly ready for you in August of 2017. We thought about you, dreamed about the idea of holding you in our arms, and spent nights talking about becoming a family. You are truly a gift from God. You were worth the wait.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Every part of that morning before you came into the world was different than I'd imagined it would be. It was 9:45AM when I woke up to normal cramps I had been feeling for weeks. It had become routine to find me on the exercise ball bouncing around to relieve some of the discomfort, but in all honestly, I did it because I knew that it would mean one step closer to you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I hopped quietly out of bed trying not to wake your dad as the covers slid across the floor and made my way over to that oh so familiar ball. I bounced and bounced. Then bounced a little moare. My mind totally focused. Each cramp-like feeling felt just minutes apart. It was one week after your due date that day and little did I know you'd arrive that night. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">It was about 10:30 AM when your dad started to wake up. It couldn't have been more perfect timing that he was able to be home to experience this from start to finish with me. He gazed over in my direction with a smile on his face. He knew I was having "cramps" and that was always his favorite! He knew you'd be coming soon with every little ache. We both did. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">This cycle of bouncing and working through each contraction with a sway here and there went on for a few hours as we made breakfast, got changed, and readied ourselves for the day. The one that would change our lives in an instant. It was 12:30 PM when the cramps got stronger and I was beginning to have a little trouble keeping a conversation while they hit their peak. That gluten free everything bagel was not looking very appetizing anymore either, but I knew I had to eat in case this was the real thing. If we would have the privilege of meeting you today.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Your dad perked up again asking if I thought today would be it. Thousands of emotions overwhelmed me just imagining the process of labor, delivery, and this new life before I could reply. I was barley able to think outside of each contraction by then, but mustered up the energy to cry, smile, and share a sweet reply, "I think so,". "We have to call the midwife," I said. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Your dad got on the phone to the Burlington hospital and shortly after sharing the details, we were well on our way. And so were you. Brandon kindly gathered our hospital bags and packed the car. I continued to get through each contraction, still coming every five minutes. All of a sudden it felt like the whole world around me stopped. All of my attention belonged to my body. You were at the center of my heart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The hospital was a one hour drive since we had decided to deliver you back in the town I grew up in. The ride felt short as each contraction hit time and time again. Your dad was right there. He held my hand, affirmed me, and with each passing breath, I knew it was one step closer to meeting you. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">On the shoulder of the road about half way there, your grammy eagerly awaited. She would be present to help during the labor and delivery process. She jumped quickly in the backseat and off we went. We couldn't believe this was it. It was the moment we waited for nine months. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">As we pulled up to the hospital, it was a quick walk from the car to the check in. I remember having one contraction away from everyone. They felt strong and so did I. It was a privilege to get the opportunity to be your mom. We shared those few seconds and the next thing I knew one of the nurses pulled up next to me. He would be the one who would assist us up seven floors. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Upon arrival we checked in at the labor and delivery desk and yet again, another contraction. It may have been over my head, but I was hopeful to be dilated at a six. </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">They felt so close.</span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">After settling in, the nurses confirmed my dilation at 2cm. This was discouraging, but didn't shake my confidence. I knew you were coming. I could feel it. It was now 2:00 PM.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The nurses and midwives that worked alongside of us gave me a few hours to labor privately before they would return to check for progress again. We turned on worship music, I drank water, and grabbed the essential oils packed in our bag just in case I needed them. We prayed and contraction after contraction, I spent all my time walking or leaning through each one. The back labor hit heavy. Your dad and grammy helping me every step of the way. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">By 4:00 PM, the nurse and midwife returned to check on progression. I followed their instructions with a hopeful heart. "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it," the midwife uttered. "You're a 3.5-4 cm now,". Those words compelled me. They encouraged me to keep going with everything I could. You were coming. This was the real thing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The next two hours were the same. Contraction, break. </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Contraction, break. </span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Contraction, break. Your dad never leaving my side. He was amazing and the perfect coach. Your grammy running to my every need. She was incredible at answering all my requests. I wanted them close. It felt just right that they were near, that we were doing this together. It was all for you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now 6:00 PM and the sun had set. The midwife did the annual two hour check and I had progressed some more. We were now 6cm and my water broke. They had given me the go to hop in the tub and labor peacefully for a little while. I couldn't wait. Everyone was surprised how quickly this labor was going. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Despite how thankful I was to be progressing so quickly, I'll be completely honest and confess everything wasn't perfect. Labor was hard. During some of my contractions I remember thinking to myself "I can't do this, it's too painful", but than the break would come and it would be the perfect time for me to zone in and re-focus. It's a complete battle with your mind when exhaustion and discomfort set in for a while. Every minute to me was flying by because I was in and out of contractions so quickly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">At about 7:00 PM my feet gazed the top of the warm water as I slid into the birthing tub. This was the perfect place for me in that moment. There were two midwives now assisting me through these last few hours of intense labor. Your dad still at my side, kept close in these final moments. The midwives were wonderful and helped me through every breath. Just the ones we prayed for. Words of encouragement were flying across the room as they continually reminded me that I was doing amazing. This meant everything to me in those moments. Little did we know you were going to be here before we knew it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">I changed into several positions in that next hour before the time came. You were coming. "I need to push," I exclaimed. All of a sudden it's like my body re-awakened. I've heard from several women you'll know when you need to push and they're not lying. I was ready. You were ready. The midwives did a quick check and told me to wait and not to push just yet. I was 8cm now and still progressing as they began draining the tub. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Everything changed in the final stretch. Contractions got stronger and they were more difficult to go through now than ever before. I had to lean into being totally intentional on every inhale, every exhale. I mentally began preparing myself for that walk to the bed. It was a simple seven steps, but the contractions were the most extreme yet. I waited until I had a short sixty second break where I could quickly maneuver myself there. Boom, there it was and there I went.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">When I toppled myself into that hospital bed, I remember the excitement and the fatigue. The midwife checked again and it was time. I was just pushes away from meeting you. With all the energy I had left, I pushed. Those next forty five minutes would challenge my body in ways I couldn't explain. Twenty minutes into pushing the midwives supplied me with some oxygen. They were concerned you might not be getting enough air because I was having a difficult time breathing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Your heart rate dropped and the moment I heard those words, so did mine. I was doing everything in my power to get you here and my body was taxed, but I wouldn't let up. With all I had, left I pushed. I could hear the faint conversations around me that they could see you, that you were almost here. How I was doing awesome and it wouldn't be long. Every word faded in the background as I zeroed in on every push. "Make this one really count. Do it for your baby," I heard the midwife say loud and clear. That was just enough to power threw these last few minutes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">And there you were. Everything I could have ever imagined and more. You belted the sweetest cry I've ever heard. That's when I knew you were mine and I was yours. Every month, every week, every hour, every minute, and every second led us here. They laid you on my chest and tears of complete relief and overwhelming joy flooded my eyes. Dad too. We looked at one another and we couldn't express the love we had for you. Those minutes we shared as you entered the world are the most valuable memories we hold. October 30th at 9:11 PM. That precious moment, cherished forever.</span></div>
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Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4929078176682487360.post-66343841344714587882014-09-07T17:22:00.016-04:002023-12-22T22:01:00.807-05:00Friendly Introduction<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRGD9rhqWpnvdaWH9uNybR_ELaRwaP8N66iA8QV7cSmB_pWN0NfH1nu4Am8IZdyq0KfiY0dxAFAL94lMZ05d25FUtrKwPX2_wVTW4bXRSjWhyVUUF3sQv9bEEgzaywwloDFetfIa3xqqUZgHvq28X0bKZXoPLfoA7yAji7g9K7xW6e2TMku_inD4hroI4/s8114/Barrett_Family-55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5412" data-original-width="8114" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRGD9rhqWpnvdaWH9uNybR_ELaRwaP8N66iA8QV7cSmB_pWN0NfH1nu4Am8IZdyq0KfiY0dxAFAL94lMZ05d25FUtrKwPX2_wVTW4bXRSjWhyVUUF3sQv9bEEgzaywwloDFetfIa3xqqUZgHvq28X0bKZXoPLfoA7yAji7g9K7xW6e2TMku_inD4hroI4/s16000/Barrett_Family-55.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: center;"><div><font face="inherit">Well hey there! I'm so happy you stopped by! My name is Tiffany and I'm the author behind this blog. </font></div><div><font face="inherit"><br /></font></div><div><font face="inherit">I'm a multi passionate creator with big vision for my little life. I help friends like you, gain deep understanding of your value, remind you of this remarkable gift of your breath, and ring in the special truth that you play an important role in your corner of the world. </font></div><div><br /></div><div>I still seek to find the balance of fitting in and standing out. I'm overly invested in the Good News which is the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ and believe in the power He has to transform your entire life. I stand on the principles of simple living and doing it on purpose. I encourage authenticity and absolutely going back for a second brownie. I enjoy write words that propel you to become the version of yourself you haven't even met yet.</div><div><br /></div><div>My joy can be found somewhere in the middle of capturing mundane moments behind an iPhone, venturing the outdoors for too long, and keeping up with my families mountain of laundry. To me, i<span style="font-family: inherit;">t's reveling over what's now, what's to come, and being able to reflect on what was. Sharing my experiences while cheering you on in yours.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">I take up residence in a cute northern city, making memories with my four best friends. I'll naturally create conversation about Jesus and real life over big cups of extra hot coffee. It's easy to find me holding a baby on my hip, roaming the beautiful aisles of Target, or with my nose in a book. </span></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;"> It's so nice to meet you, friend! Thanks for being here! I'm so glad you are.</span></div></div></div>
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