After the miscarriage, I decided not to chart the following month. My doctor said it would take about three weeks for my body to recover and become fertile again anyway. After the three week period, I went back to charting using the Kindara app for iPhone. I found it very helpful to be able to customize the fertility signs I wanted to track, and to have built in reminders to take my temperature in the morning and to chart cervical fluid in the afternoon. After charting for about a month, I was back to feeling the frustration I had since the very beginning with Natural Family Planning. During that first post-miscarriage cycle, I had no signs of fertility and what appeared to be a withdrawal bleed. My doctor assured me that it can take up to three months for a body to recover from miscarriage and that I should just be patient. The following cycle was similar, and I was starting to get worried. The third post-miscarriage cycle my husband and I decided that the pressure of charting just wasn't worth it. God would give us a baby in his time whether we were ready or not.
After being pregnant, even though it was unplanned, I really started to want to have a baby, so I got really excited when my period was late that cycle. I took a pregnancy test at what would have been one week late. It came back negative, so I thought that maybe I ovulated late. I took two more tests the following week, after my period was three weeks late and I had taken six pregnancy tests- all negative- I gave up and called my doctor. It was back to the progesterone induced withdrawal bleed. After my "period", I went in to have an ultrasound to check if my ovaries were working correctly. They looked good with follicles developing as they should and no cysts. The only thing that the ultrasound revealed was that I had a slightly thickened uterine lining, which was likely due to the irregular cycles I was having. I've got to tell you that when you have been trying to find an answer for medical issues for 6 months, then endured a miscarriage, and the search has to continue on you begin to feel defeated.
My doctor put me on watch for the next cycle (my current cycle). I needed to chart and let her know if there were no signs of ovulation by day 18. Guess what- nothing. It is now day 31 of my cycle and I am again at the point where I begin to debate taking a pregnancy test to see if I miraculously became pregnant without fertile mucus, or if I just give in and go to the doctor for another progesterone cycle. I have by no means been deemed infertile yet, but I am beginning to see how awful it is for those women who have been trying for years and still have empty arms. I pray that everyone will be able to know the love of a child someday.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Tuesday, December 9, 2014
First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage, Then Comes Miscarriage.....
Now you that you know our love story, I'll tell you our loss story.
Before Eric and I got married, we went to the pre-marriage retreat weekend that was required by our church. There we learned about Natural Family Planning (NFP). We signed up for classes and learned how to use the Billings Ovulation Method. It seemed simple enough. That was, until I tried it. As I charted I quickly grew frustrated. I was damp almost all the time and rarely saw the "wet/slippery" mucus that should have shown up right around ovulation or "peak" as it is called in the NFP world. I would go to follow up classes to get my chart reviewed and be even more confused after. The way that they explained how charts should look and the different sensations made sense, but I just couldn't differentiate in my personal chart. So as we led up to our wedding night, I was very concerned about being able to postpone pregnancy. I mean, there was no way we were ready for a baby. We were broke, living paycheck to paycheck some months, and young and dumb.
By the time our wedding came around I was barely holding on to hope that NFP would work for us. I continued to chart after our wedding, and did my best to identify fertile periods and abstain during those times. In February 2014, I experienced the first extra long period since I started charting. I had noticed that my cycles were long (average of 45 days), but the length was usually quite consistent. The February cycle ended up being about 85 days long (5 day period then 75+ days of damp sensation). At day 65, I finally decided to visit the doctor after a number of negative pregnancy tests. The doctor put me on progesterone which caused a withdrawal bleed effectively resetting my cycle. She ran some tests as well, but found that everything came back normal. That doctor visit was the first time I had heard of PCOS and realized there was a possibility that this was the issue.
The following cycle was a typically frustrating one. Most days were damp and I was fed up with feeling the need to abstain constantly. One night I threw my charts to the side and decided to just be with my husband without any worries. That was Holy Saturday 2014. It was the night that we conceived Taylor Grace. After a late period, I was sure that whatever threw the previous cycle out of whack was happening again. I went to the doctor and was so surprised to hear that we were pregnant. I called my husband and asked if I could see him at work. He asked where I was coming from and when I told him the doctor's office he pretty much knew what the news was. I went over to his work and told him to guess. He just gave me a hug and said, "Now what?" We hugged and just smiled. On May 5th 2014, I found out I was a mom!
At the time, we were living with Eric's mom since we had subleased our apartment before we were able to move into the house we had purchased. We told his mom the news a few days later by leaving her an early Mother's Day card on the table. It said something about being a new grandma. When she woke up at 4am and went to read the card she was as surprised and happy as we were. She could barely contain herself. We visited my mom that weekend to celebrate Mother's Day. I had talked to my sister, and we planned out a group gift from my sister, my brother, and myself. Laura had bought a purse. Andy had some things to go in it and I would bring a onesie that said something about being a grandma on it. I had been sharing my cycle frustrations with my mom since before the wedding and she knew I had visited the doctor. I had told her that I was waiting on test results. It was so hard to keep that secret. When she finally opened the purse and saw the onesie, she just looked at me and said, "You mean you've been putting me on." I told her I had just found out on Monday. I also gave a Mother's Day card to my grandma to tell her the news. (Don't worry I didn't lie to my mother. I had been waiting for results for my progesterone level. It came back very low, so I started progesterone supplements right away.)
Everyone important to me knew about our coming bundle of joy. I couldn't hide it from anyone. I was so excited! I was also very stressed and scared. How were we going to afford this baby? How were we going to handle maternity leave? How would we pay for the house while I was out on unpaid leave? So many questions to answer. At one point, a point that haunts me, I broke down and told a coworker I didn't want to be pregnant because there was no way we could afford it. It really is true when they say be careful what you wish for.
I went in for my first ultrasound at the 9 week mark of our pregnancy. Eric was unable to get off work to come, this is another hard memory. The ultrasound results truly confused me. I was 9 weeks pregnant, but Taylor measured at 6 weeks and had a very low heart rate. I was nervous. My intuition told me what the doctors confirmed a week later, I was going to have a miscarriage. I contacted my doctor with my concerns about the ultrasound results, after all, I knew when we had conceived based on the NFP chart I had used. The doctor had me visit the lab for my HCG levels to be checked. I was shelving books at work when I got a call from the doctor. My HCG levels were not doing what they were supposed to. He needed me to come in for an ultrasound immediately. I called Eric. I was absolutely devastated. I was crying so hard he had trouble understanding what was going on, but he came to get me from work. I called my mom bawling and she said to just wait for the ultrasound, maybe it was something else, but I knew. I knew we had lost my Gracie. We drove up to the hospital in a quiet car and went up to the ultrasound room. The ultrasound confirmed my greatest fear. My intuition had been correct. Gracie was gone. I remember the tech saying that she couldn't find the heartbeat, and Eric asking what that meant. All I could manage to say was, "She had a heartbeat last week." It was a heartbeat that Eric never got to hear. No matter how much the nurses in the future tell me that my husband doesn't have to be at the ultrasound, I will make sure he is able to come. I never want to risk him missing something so important again. Eric broke down sobbing, and the tech said the only thing there was to say: "I'm so sorry."
We moved over to the doctor's exam room and discussed our options. We could wait for my body to let her go naturally. I could take a pill to speed up the process, or I could have a D&C and have it all over with. I had read about how the cramps from the pill were awful, and I couldn't bear the thought of carrying around my dead child while I waited for my body to do its job. I also had this overwhelming belief that passing my baby naturally into a toilet or however else would just not give her the dignity she deserved. I opted for the D&C immediately and scheduled it for the following day. Meanwhile, we went home to our house with the two extra bedrooms that would not be needed for who knows how long. Eric's mom met us there and chatted with us for a while. Eric talked about how unreal it all seemed. We had a child. It was a baby, but it was gone. His mom said, "You can name it." We didn't really discuss this, but in my heart I already knew her name was Gracie. Taylor Grace. I had been calling her Gracie for the majority of my pregnancy. I believe God revealed that name to me for a reason. Mothers just know, right?
As we prepared for the surgery, we considered how we would give our baby the most dignity. We called our church and left a message for the priest. We were happy to find out that there was a preborn memorial plot and that we could have a proper service for her. We talked to the groundskeeper and he told us to just be sure to keep her remains and we would work something out after the surgery. As I lay in the hospital bed, our priest returned my phone call. He told me how sorry he was about our loss and how he would be happy to have a service for us and be there any way he could. I could barely hold myself together while I listened to him. Then it was time to go into surgery. As they started to roll me away, I looked at Eric and told him, "Her name is Taylor Grace." I needed him to know that we had a daughter, that she had a name, and that I loved her.
After the surgery, the nurse presented us with a paper bag that had a plastic cup in it with the remains of our baby. The lovely woman looked at me and simply said, "Your angel is in there." It may have just looked like clumps of blood, but that was my child. My daughter. My angel, indeed. We brought the bag home and placed the remains in our freezer. After some rest, I carefully went through our small collection of baby things we had already accumulated and found a pink Whinnie the Pooh blanket. I wrapped the cup in the blanket and placed it back in the freezer.
The surgery took place on Friday June 6th. We met with the groundskeeper at our church the following Monday and had a lovely service scheduled for our little girl that Wednesday. I had went to work as normal (I work at the school attached to the church) and Eric met me at church about 30 minutes before. It was the end of the school year, so I was able to sneak over to the church without having to explain to anyone. When I met Eric in the parish office, he had Gracie's casket that we had sealed together the night before. We asked the parish secretary to take a picture of us. It would be the only picture we would have with Gracie. Eric had written her name on the casket and a sweet message. The priest then met us and we walked to the cemetery together. I held it all pretty well until I saw my mom and dad. I had had friends inquire about the service and I had informed them that it would just be a simple private service with me and Eric. I had no idea that my parents were going to show up. It meant a lot to me to have them there. It was a 2 hour drive for them after all. My mom lost her first child to miscarriage as well, so I'm sure she had an idea of how I felt.
The priest looked at the casket when we presented it to him. He commented on how pretty the name we chose was. That made me cry even harder. He continued on and celebrated a perfect little funeral service for our sweetheart. After the service the grounds workers came over with dirt to bury the casket. Eric was allowed to put the first shovelful of dirt down. That was not something I wanted to do, so we simply hugged and held each other weeping for a few minutes before we turned and left our baby behind. I said goodbye to my parents and headed back inside to work while Eric headed off to his job. It was an awful way to end a school year, and I certainly wasn't looking forward to explaining what had happened when next school year came around.
I am so glad that there was a place for us to bury Gracie, however. It gives us a tangible place that we can go back to when we want to visit her and read her a AA Milne book or just talk to her for a while. When I talk to her, I get this feeling that I will have a rainbow baby someday. When I do, I have this overwhelming feeling that it will be a little girl and we will call her Clara. If my intuition was right when it was something so awful, maybe it will be right when it comes to something so good.
Before Eric and I got married, we went to the pre-marriage retreat weekend that was required by our church. There we learned about Natural Family Planning (NFP). We signed up for classes and learned how to use the Billings Ovulation Method. It seemed simple enough. That was, until I tried it. As I charted I quickly grew frustrated. I was damp almost all the time and rarely saw the "wet/slippery" mucus that should have shown up right around ovulation or "peak" as it is called in the NFP world. I would go to follow up classes to get my chart reviewed and be even more confused after. The way that they explained how charts should look and the different sensations made sense, but I just couldn't differentiate in my personal chart. So as we led up to our wedding night, I was very concerned about being able to postpone pregnancy. I mean, there was no way we were ready for a baby. We were broke, living paycheck to paycheck some months, and young and dumb.
By the time our wedding came around I was barely holding on to hope that NFP would work for us. I continued to chart after our wedding, and did my best to identify fertile periods and abstain during those times. In February 2014, I experienced the first extra long period since I started charting. I had noticed that my cycles were long (average of 45 days), but the length was usually quite consistent. The February cycle ended up being about 85 days long (5 day period then 75+ days of damp sensation). At day 65, I finally decided to visit the doctor after a number of negative pregnancy tests. The doctor put me on progesterone which caused a withdrawal bleed effectively resetting my cycle. She ran some tests as well, but found that everything came back normal. That doctor visit was the first time I had heard of PCOS and realized there was a possibility that this was the issue.
The following cycle was a typically frustrating one. Most days were damp and I was fed up with feeling the need to abstain constantly. One night I threw my charts to the side and decided to just be with my husband without any worries. That was Holy Saturday 2014. It was the night that we conceived Taylor Grace. After a late period, I was sure that whatever threw the previous cycle out of whack was happening again. I went to the doctor and was so surprised to hear that we were pregnant. I called my husband and asked if I could see him at work. He asked where I was coming from and when I told him the doctor's office he pretty much knew what the news was. I went over to his work and told him to guess. He just gave me a hug and said, "Now what?" We hugged and just smiled. On May 5th 2014, I found out I was a mom!
At the time, we were living with Eric's mom since we had subleased our apartment before we were able to move into the house we had purchased. We told his mom the news a few days later by leaving her an early Mother's Day card on the table. It said something about being a new grandma. When she woke up at 4am and went to read the card she was as surprised and happy as we were. She could barely contain herself. We visited my mom that weekend to celebrate Mother's Day. I had talked to my sister, and we planned out a group gift from my sister, my brother, and myself. Laura had bought a purse. Andy had some things to go in it and I would bring a onesie that said something about being a grandma on it. I had been sharing my cycle frustrations with my mom since before the wedding and she knew I had visited the doctor. I had told her that I was waiting on test results. It was so hard to keep that secret. When she finally opened the purse and saw the onesie, she just looked at me and said, "You mean you've been putting me on." I told her I had just found out on Monday. I also gave a Mother's Day card to my grandma to tell her the news. (Don't worry I didn't lie to my mother. I had been waiting for results for my progesterone level. It came back very low, so I started progesterone supplements right away.)
Everyone important to me knew about our coming bundle of joy. I couldn't hide it from anyone. I was so excited! I was also very stressed and scared. How were we going to afford this baby? How were we going to handle maternity leave? How would we pay for the house while I was out on unpaid leave? So many questions to answer. At one point, a point that haunts me, I broke down and told a coworker I didn't want to be pregnant because there was no way we could afford it. It really is true when they say be careful what you wish for.
I went in for my first ultrasound at the 9 week mark of our pregnancy. Eric was unable to get off work to come, this is another hard memory. The ultrasound results truly confused me. I was 9 weeks pregnant, but Taylor measured at 6 weeks and had a very low heart rate. I was nervous. My intuition told me what the doctors confirmed a week later, I was going to have a miscarriage. I contacted my doctor with my concerns about the ultrasound results, after all, I knew when we had conceived based on the NFP chart I had used. The doctor had me visit the lab for my HCG levels to be checked. I was shelving books at work when I got a call from the doctor. My HCG levels were not doing what they were supposed to. He needed me to come in for an ultrasound immediately. I called Eric. I was absolutely devastated. I was crying so hard he had trouble understanding what was going on, but he came to get me from work. I called my mom bawling and she said to just wait for the ultrasound, maybe it was something else, but I knew. I knew we had lost my Gracie. We drove up to the hospital in a quiet car and went up to the ultrasound room. The ultrasound confirmed my greatest fear. My intuition had been correct. Gracie was gone. I remember the tech saying that she couldn't find the heartbeat, and Eric asking what that meant. All I could manage to say was, "She had a heartbeat last week." It was a heartbeat that Eric never got to hear. No matter how much the nurses in the future tell me that my husband doesn't have to be at the ultrasound, I will make sure he is able to come. I never want to risk him missing something so important again. Eric broke down sobbing, and the tech said the only thing there was to say: "I'm so sorry."
We moved over to the doctor's exam room and discussed our options. We could wait for my body to let her go naturally. I could take a pill to speed up the process, or I could have a D&C and have it all over with. I had read about how the cramps from the pill were awful, and I couldn't bear the thought of carrying around my dead child while I waited for my body to do its job. I also had this overwhelming belief that passing my baby naturally into a toilet or however else would just not give her the dignity she deserved. I opted for the D&C immediately and scheduled it for the following day. Meanwhile, we went home to our house with the two extra bedrooms that would not be needed for who knows how long. Eric's mom met us there and chatted with us for a while. Eric talked about how unreal it all seemed. We had a child. It was a baby, but it was gone. His mom said, "You can name it." We didn't really discuss this, but in my heart I already knew her name was Gracie. Taylor Grace. I had been calling her Gracie for the majority of my pregnancy. I believe God revealed that name to me for a reason. Mothers just know, right?
As we prepared for the surgery, we considered how we would give our baby the most dignity. We called our church and left a message for the priest. We were happy to find out that there was a preborn memorial plot and that we could have a proper service for her. We talked to the groundskeeper and he told us to just be sure to keep her remains and we would work something out after the surgery. As I lay in the hospital bed, our priest returned my phone call. He told me how sorry he was about our loss and how he would be happy to have a service for us and be there any way he could. I could barely hold myself together while I listened to him. Then it was time to go into surgery. As they started to roll me away, I looked at Eric and told him, "Her name is Taylor Grace." I needed him to know that we had a daughter, that she had a name, and that I loved her.
After the surgery, the nurse presented us with a paper bag that had a plastic cup in it with the remains of our baby. The lovely woman looked at me and simply said, "Your angel is in there." It may have just looked like clumps of blood, but that was my child. My daughter. My angel, indeed. We brought the bag home and placed the remains in our freezer. After some rest, I carefully went through our small collection of baby things we had already accumulated and found a pink Whinnie the Pooh blanket. I wrapped the cup in the blanket and placed it back in the freezer.
The surgery took place on Friday June 6th. We met with the groundskeeper at our church the following Monday and had a lovely service scheduled for our little girl that Wednesday. I had went to work as normal (I work at the school attached to the church) and Eric met me at church about 30 minutes before. It was the end of the school year, so I was able to sneak over to the church without having to explain to anyone. When I met Eric in the parish office, he had Gracie's casket that we had sealed together the night before. We asked the parish secretary to take a picture of us. It would be the only picture we would have with Gracie. Eric had written her name on the casket and a sweet message. The priest then met us and we walked to the cemetery together. I held it all pretty well until I saw my mom and dad. I had had friends inquire about the service and I had informed them that it would just be a simple private service with me and Eric. I had no idea that my parents were going to show up. It meant a lot to me to have them there. It was a 2 hour drive for them after all. My mom lost her first child to miscarriage as well, so I'm sure she had an idea of how I felt.
The priest looked at the casket when we presented it to him. He commented on how pretty the name we chose was. That made me cry even harder. He continued on and celebrated a perfect little funeral service for our sweetheart. After the service the grounds workers came over with dirt to bury the casket. Eric was allowed to put the first shovelful of dirt down. That was not something I wanted to do, so we simply hugged and held each other weeping for a few minutes before we turned and left our baby behind. I said goodbye to my parents and headed back inside to work while Eric headed off to his job. It was an awful way to end a school year, and I certainly wasn't looking forward to explaining what had happened when next school year came around.
I am so glad that there was a place for us to bury Gracie, however. It gives us a tangible place that we can go back to when we want to visit her and read her a AA Milne book or just talk to her for a while. When I talk to her, I get this feeling that I will have a rainbow baby someday. When I do, I have this overwhelming feeling that it will be a little girl and we will call her Clara. If my intuition was right when it was something so awful, maybe it will be right when it comes to something so good.
Monday, December 8, 2014
It's A Love Story.
I am writing this blog as a way to cope with our fertility struggles, as well as make them purposeful. This is our story. It is true. It is happy and it is sad. I only hope that our story can help you with yours.
My name is Lisa. I attended The College of St. Scholastica in Duluth from 2008-2011. During that time, I lived with my boyfriend. When I graduated, I thought he was the guy I was going to marry, but in July of 2011 we had a horrible break up. (We have since forgiven each other and last talked to each other on friendly terms.) After I broke up with him, I started dating another guy, but we really had nothing in common. It was during the time that I was dating this guy that I met my husband. In December of 2011, we went to a local bar for it's last ladies night before it closed. While my then boyfriend was talking to his friends I caught the sight of another guy from across the bar. He looked really familiar, but I just couldn't place him. Turns out he was thinking the same thing. Finally, he came over and sat down. "Did you go to Elk River High School?" he asked. I did. As soon as he started talking I realized who he was. I had taken a German class with him in high school. I said, "Yes, you're Eric right." He was. I added him as a friend on Facebook that night. I invited him to a number of parties at my boyfriend's house and really started to like him. I listened as he talked and found out that he was Catholic, which was something that I really wanted in a guy. He was fun to be around. We liked a lot of the same things.
One night my boyfriend and I got into an argument and I really thought about what I wanted to do with my life. I ended up breaking up with him. I started watching Eric's Facebook account. I was sad when I found out he had a girlfriend. I had broken up with my boyfriend mainly because I liked Eric. The weekend after I broke up with my boyfriend, I went to visit my parents. I continued to watch Eric's Facebook account, and noticed a post that he needed someone to talk to. I messaged him and asked how things were going. I gave him my phone number. He said he had talked to someone and figured it out. That night I decided to go out with my sister and cousin to listen to the band at the local bar. In between songs, I checked my Facebook. He had just posted that he was a free man! I was so excited that he was single that I bought the girls a round of drinks. I asked him about the post and we met up for dinner and cards the next night. The night ended with a hug and I was sure he wasn't interested in me. I was so disappointed, but I thought I would take one last chance and texted Eric. I told him that I had had fun that evening. He said he was glad and we should do it again soon. I was a little more hopeful, and when I got a text that Wednesday asking if I wanted to join him on a 5 hour road trip to Wisconsin to do some snowmobiling I jumped on the opportunity.
On the car ride, we talked about life. We talked about our past relationships, work, and what we wanted in the future. The whole car ride I was still unsure of whether he was interested in me or not. When we got to Wisconsin, we went right to the hotel. Eric reserved a room with 2 beds, but the hotel had made a mistake and only had a room with one bed. I said it wasn't a big deal. That night we met up with some of Eric's family at the bar and then spent the night at the hotel. Spring had come early and there wasn't enough snow to go snowmobiling so we decided to go out and do some target shooting instead. We headed over to his uncle's house. When we were there, his uncle was on the phone with another family member and he said, "I'm just sitting here with Eric and his girlfriend." I sent a quick look in Eric's direction, but didn't say anything. I didn't want to embarrass Eric and I wasn't sure what he had told his uncle. That night, when we got back to the hotel, we went to the hot tub. He told me that he really liked me and that he wanted to date me. I was so happy, and that started our relationship. A year later we went back to the same hotel, even the same room, and Eric proposed to me. We planned our wedding for December 28, 2013. We have been married almost a year now. There have been ups and downs (we will get into those in following posts), but it has been an amazing year and I look forward to many more.
My name is Lisa. I attended The College of St. Scholastica in Duluth from 2008-2011. During that time, I lived with my boyfriend. When I graduated, I thought he was the guy I was going to marry, but in July of 2011 we had a horrible break up. (We have since forgiven each other and last talked to each other on friendly terms.) After I broke up with him, I started dating another guy, but we really had nothing in common. It was during the time that I was dating this guy that I met my husband. In December of 2011, we went to a local bar for it's last ladies night before it closed. While my then boyfriend was talking to his friends I caught the sight of another guy from across the bar. He looked really familiar, but I just couldn't place him. Turns out he was thinking the same thing. Finally, he came over and sat down. "Did you go to Elk River High School?" he asked. I did. As soon as he started talking I realized who he was. I had taken a German class with him in high school. I said, "Yes, you're Eric right." He was. I added him as a friend on Facebook that night. I invited him to a number of parties at my boyfriend's house and really started to like him. I listened as he talked and found out that he was Catholic, which was something that I really wanted in a guy. He was fun to be around. We liked a lot of the same things.
One night my boyfriend and I got into an argument and I really thought about what I wanted to do with my life. I ended up breaking up with him. I started watching Eric's Facebook account. I was sad when I found out he had a girlfriend. I had broken up with my boyfriend mainly because I liked Eric. The weekend after I broke up with my boyfriend, I went to visit my parents. I continued to watch Eric's Facebook account, and noticed a post that he needed someone to talk to. I messaged him and asked how things were going. I gave him my phone number. He said he had talked to someone and figured it out. That night I decided to go out with my sister and cousin to listen to the band at the local bar. In between songs, I checked my Facebook. He had just posted that he was a free man! I was so excited that he was single that I bought the girls a round of drinks. I asked him about the post and we met up for dinner and cards the next night. The night ended with a hug and I was sure he wasn't interested in me. I was so disappointed, but I thought I would take one last chance and texted Eric. I told him that I had had fun that evening. He said he was glad and we should do it again soon. I was a little more hopeful, and when I got a text that Wednesday asking if I wanted to join him on a 5 hour road trip to Wisconsin to do some snowmobiling I jumped on the opportunity.
On the car ride, we talked about life. We talked about our past relationships, work, and what we wanted in the future. The whole car ride I was still unsure of whether he was interested in me or not. When we got to Wisconsin, we went right to the hotel. Eric reserved a room with 2 beds, but the hotel had made a mistake and only had a room with one bed. I said it wasn't a big deal. That night we met up with some of Eric's family at the bar and then spent the night at the hotel. Spring had come early and there wasn't enough snow to go snowmobiling so we decided to go out and do some target shooting instead. We headed over to his uncle's house. When we were there, his uncle was on the phone with another family member and he said, "I'm just sitting here with Eric and his girlfriend." I sent a quick look in Eric's direction, but didn't say anything. I didn't want to embarrass Eric and I wasn't sure what he had told his uncle. That night, when we got back to the hotel, we went to the hot tub. He told me that he really liked me and that he wanted to date me. I was so happy, and that started our relationship. A year later we went back to the same hotel, even the same room, and Eric proposed to me. We planned our wedding for December 28, 2013. We have been married almost a year now. There have been ups and downs (we will get into those in following posts), but it has been an amazing year and I look forward to many more.
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