An Unjaded Heart: Jaden’s Journey

By Jessica B. Lauderdale

This book was originally started as a cookbook by Jaden while she was in the hospital awaiting a heart transplant. She had most of the recipes written out. I decided to write her life story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Apr 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781982221966

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Copyright © 2019 Jessica B. Lauderdale.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Scriptures taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com The NIV and New International Version are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

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The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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ISBN: 978-1-9822-2195-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-2197-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-2196-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019901819

Balboa Press rev. date: 04/29/2019

CONTENTS

Our Beginning

Jaden’s Journey….Her Beginning

Life Changing Events

The Beginning Of Our Roller Coaster

Going Home

Home Again; Take Two

2nd Open Heart Surgery

The First Two Years

3Rd Open Heart Surgery

Life With Hlhs

2008-2009- Kindergarten

2009-2011 1St Grade Years

2011-2012 2Nd Grade Year

2012-2013 3Rd Grade Year

2013-2014 4Th Grade Year

2014-2015 5Th Grade Year

2015-2016 6Th Grade Year

Make-A-Wish Trip

A New Baby Cousin

Talk Of Heart Transplant

February

The Fundraiser Idea

The Month Of April

Pinned Toddler Recipes With Jaden Tweaks

Pins From Jaden’s Account With Adjustments

Favorite Breakfast Meals To Make At Home

Most Requested Meals To Be Brought Up To The Hospital

Favorite Home Desserts To Make

The Month Of May

The Month Of June

The Fab Four

Jaden’s 10 For 10

Planning For A Funeral

Learning To Live Without Jaden

Jaden’s Dream Come True

Tributes To Jaden From Hospital Staff

Personal Tributes To Jaden

Family Tributes To Jaden

Jaden’s Journey

Grandma’s Memories Of Jaden

Newspaper Articles From The Greene County Daily World

Greene County Shining Star Story

Lauderdale Named Greene County’s Bright Futures Shining Star 2017

Fundraiser Scheduled For Teen In Bloomfield

A Girl, A Pig And A Gift Of Love

Lauderdale’s Dream To Become Reality At Riley

Jaden’s Playhouse Becomes A Reality At Riley

Jaden’s Journal Entries

Journal Entries By Mom And Tara

OUR BEGINNING

Doug and I met in September of our senior year in high school. We both went to Bloomfield School and had been in the same grade since kindergarten. I never noticed him until then. This was and still is very surprising to me because I’m an outgoing, social person who knew almost everyone in high school, or at least everyone in our grade. We had 79 students in our grade. I went back through my year books to make sure he was in the same grade throughout the years. Sure enough, he was. We were actually in the same class in 3rd grade. I just couldn’t believe I had never seen or heard of him. He was and still is a very shy, quiet and big person. He is a 6ft, 250 pound, size 13 wide shoe, all- natural muscle man. He didn’t lift weights, he was just a stout, farm- grown person. I’ve seen very few younger pictures of him, but they all show a very built, muscular boy. This seemed to be a hereditary trait on his grandpa Easton’s side of the family. I’ve been told that his uncle was built the same way. Unfortunately, I never got to meet his uncle before his passing. I have seen many pictures of this uncle and agree; Doug is built similar to him. His arm is so big that my fingers do not touch when I try wrapping my hand around his arm. I can’t even wrap my fingers around his wrist. He has no problem wrapping his fingers around my arm or wrist, since they are twig- like. His shoulders are built like a linebacker, very broad in length. His hands remind me of King Kong’s. My thumb is smaller than his pinky. A person, if I didn’t know him, I wouldn’t want to mess with. Most people don’t. The frightfulness of his size comes in handy when our daughters date. The sheer size of him is scary for many he comes in contact with, until they get to know him. He is a very down- to- earth person that would help a friend out in a moment’s notice. He is also very knowledgeable about things. I’ve always admired his math skills, building traits, and how he can Jimmy Rig stuff together to make it work. I remember noticing his brown, with a reddish tint, curly hair, black leather coat and enormous, natural muscular size. I was half his size. I had long, brown, straight hair, was right at one hundred pounds, played sports, and was very vocal. I would always get in trouble at school for talking. This was never an issue for him. We met while working together for a local farmer. Doug’s friend had worked with my brother and me first. He became unable to work. He knew we needed another person to help us finish the task of walking the fields and cutting down corn-stalks out of the milo fields. We had acres to cover with a limited amount of time to finish. The friend thought of and asked Doug if he could be his replacement. He agreed. My brother, Doug, and I would work after school and on Saturdays in the fields. This job was only for about a month. Doug had a 1974 baby blue Chevrolet truck with a 454 engine. I loved the truck and the engine he had in it. He would drive us home so we could get ready to work. At times, my brother drove separate so he could do other things after work. Doug and I got to know each other a little better on our mainly quiet drives. I, of course, would do most of the talking. I asked him a lot of questions, forcing him to answer me. He did answer, but was sometimes hard to hear because he was soft spoken. He didn’t have to ask me any questions. I just told him my life story. I did ask a lot of questions about his truck and begged him to let me drive it. He did allow me to drive his truck one day, warning to take it easy because it takes off quick and gets up to speed in no time. Needless to say, he only let me drive once. I must have scared him a little too much. I was never allowed to drive that truck again. I enjoyed the speed and spinning tires. Maybe we got a little too close to the ditch for his comfort. We are polar opposites, but still had a lot in common. We both enjoy the same music, being outdoors, hunting, farming, the list goes on. We are an odd, but perfect couple. We dated and got engaged before graduating in May. Yes, things moved very fast, but it seemed like we had been together forever and were meant to be. He had been accepted to a school in Terre Haute for an auto/diesel certificate. I had been accepted to a Christian college in southern Indiana. Doug looked into what degrees they had. He found that they had an 18 month auto/diesel program. He decided to go to the same college as me. We went down to enroll him, work on financial aid, and get him on the dorm room list. We had graduation practice and were done from school for the rest of the day. This day was chosen to go down and get everything in order. Things were in place for us to go to the same college. However, right before graduation I was rethinking what degree I wanted to get. I was torn between teaching and nursing. I suddenly had a passion to be an OB nurse. I went through the pros and cons. I decided I wouldn’t be able to handle a baby dying. I stayed with my childhood dream of teaching. I enrolled into the four year elementary education program. He and I moved into our dorms the first week of August. We lived in separate dorms but visited each other frequently. We had set curfew times where we could visit each other in the dorms. We almost always went to his dorm room. His roommate went home frequently. My roommate was in and out a lot. His dorm was also much quieter. The girls in my hall were a little on the loud and rowdy side. The door to the dorm had to remain open during visiting hours. A lot of movies were watched. Every meal we ate together. Breakfast was always ate on campus. Lunch and supper were debatable. We tried eating there as often as we could due to us already paying for the meal ticket. At times, the meals just were not appealing, and we would grab food from another town. Both of us had jobs on campus. He worked 80 hours a month, while I worked 20. His classes were over by noon, allowing him more time to work. My schedule wasn’t as flexible. I had classes every day with little time in- between, making it difficult to work many hours. I normally worked on Tuesdays and Thursdays when I had longer breaks in between classes. By the end of August we were really wanting to get married. We went through all of the marriage options, but I wanted a church wedding. We started discussing our future plans and set our wedding date. The date chosen for the wedding was: December 27, 1997. I knew we had a long Christmas break from school, I loved Christmas time, and I wouldn’t have to worry about decorating much, which would save money. The Christmas decorations would still be up, making one less hassle for us. I chose our wedding colors as mauve and forest green, to reflect Christmas colors. The first semester was busy with classes and planning a wedding. I didn’t have to worry about fighting over how we wanted the wedding. Doug gave little to no input. I wasn’t surprised, since he still vaguely spoke. I told him what I wanted or would like to do. His reply, I don’t care or OKAY. I quit asking him about stuff and just informed him how it was going to be. He seemed to like this much better. He didn’t like to be bothered with details. The constant nagging from me and the wanting an answer to my many wedding questions annoyed him. We both got what we wanted; I left him alone and picked out all of the details. This made it very simple and less stressful. To save money, we made most of our decorations, my friends catered a small meal, and I bought a summer- style dress at 50% off. The first semester seemed to fly by. The 27th was getting closer. We spent every weekend putting final touches on the wedding. A weekend date was set to get everyone measured and tuxes ordered for the men. This was the toughest thing to do for the wedding. Doug and his friends, my brother included, were not the tux/suit wearing type. They would rather wear jeans and T-shirts. The male wedding party, dragging their feet, finally got their tuxes ordered. The bridesmaids were so much easier. We decided on a dress and ordered them within thirty minutes. My sister was the flower girl and was so excited. She had a beautiful Jr. Bridesmaid dress that fit her to a T. Things were set and ready for the wedding. A few final touches, but the major items were taken care of before Christmas. Christmas came and went in a blink of an eye. We had a brief wedding rehearsal the night before. Neither one of us sweated the details. We walk down the aisle, say our vows, play one song and done. We were just ready for the wedding to be over with so we could relax some. The day of the 27th came. Snow was on the ground, the sun was out, and it was cold. My bridesmaid and I got our hair done early that morning. The bridal party dressed in the basement of the church. Their dresses were a piece of cake to get on. My dress, not so much. I had what felt like hundreds of buttons in the back. It seemed to take forever. I finally got my dress and veil on. We lined the stairs in order; my dad and I were last. I feared tripping up the stairs. I kept telling myself, don’t trip or fall. I finally made it to the top without falling on my face. Doug and I locked eyes and everyone else seemed to disappear. The wedding was over in a blink of an eye, and we became Mr. and Mrs. Doug Lauderdale. It seemed like the picture- taking took longer than our wedding. Someone did record the wedding with a camcorder that had a VHS tape. We have viewed it a few times and now have to explain to people what a VHS tape is. The reception was held a short distance from the church. A classmate donated his time to DJ at our reception. Doug and I danced to a few songs while the others ate. We chose not to eat much because we had plans to go out and eat later that night. The cake was soon cut and the endless table of presents were opened. Our friends wrote down names and what presents were given. The last of the presents were opened and it was time for us to leave. Everyone lined the sidewalks with their bags of bird seed. We opened the door and dreaded the short run to the truck. We saw the drooling crowd, waiting to drown us with the bird seed. We made it to the truck, full of bird seed. I had it all over my hair and dress. The carpet was full of bird seed when we changed. I was sweeping up bird seed for months. We both detested bird seed at that moment. We had no desire to see any more of it for a long while. We had arranged for family members to take our presents to the house. We changed, packed, and headed to our overnight destination. We didn’t have a typical honeymoon. We didn’t want to miss the beginning of our second semester and were living on a tight budget. We went out for a nice supper, stayed at a hotel and headed home the next day. The lack of a honeymoon didn’t phase either of us. The two weeks we had left after getting married were spent writing thank you cards, organizing gifts, changing my name on everything and various other business items. We never doubted or questioned getting married young. We knew the challenges that lied ahead. It would be difficult on a budget where no one was working full time, going to college and being newlyweds, still learning things about each other. Our second semester of school began. We were now driving back and forth from school instead of living in the dooms. Commuting saved us a lot of money. It drastically cut down on the loans he needed to get, and I got refunds instead of needing to pay. This helped out tremendously. I budgeted out the money I was given in refund. We both still worked but only got paid once a month. Our commute was approximately 1 hour and 15 minutes one way. We lived with my Grandma Barker. She was my rock and teacher. I admired her spirit, compassion for others, stories she told, and her cooking. I spent as much time with her as I could when I was young. She was short in stature but very feisty. She taught me how to cook, can fruits and vegetables, and passed down her Christian beliefs. She had a nightly prayer that she taught my brother and me, Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. If I live for other days, I pray the Lord to guide my ways. I was in awe as a child that she knew this, later finding out it was a popular prayer, but that didn’t change anything. I still pray this prayer at night in remembrance of her. Living with her was the best decision we made. She longed for company and we could help her do things around the house. Doug loved and got along with Grandma well. He could do the heavy lifting chores. This saved her from paying someone else to do it. She never questioned us getting married young. She and my uncle had asked if we loved each other prior to getting married. Our response was a quick yes. They gave us their support, marriage, and spiritual advice. We thoroughly enjoyed our time living with grandma. She made sure we had breakfast before our commute. It was almost always bacon and biscuits and gravy, my all-time favorite.

Soon after the wedding we found out we were expecting our first child. We were caught off guard at this news. I wanted a big family, he didn’t. Neither of us wanted to start a family this soon, but I welcomed yet another challenge. It took him longer to get comfortable with the idea. The day he found out, he and my brother went deer hunting. He said he needed time to think. I was very sick during the pregnancy. He took care of me the best he could. He asked if I was ok then got my toothbrush ready for me and left the room. He was worried my teeth would get rotten from stomach acid since I was throwing up, sometimes four times a day. If I got sick in the truck, I was on my own. He couldn’t deal with it. We had the morning sickness routine down to a science within a few weeks. I wanted to ensure I would still graduate on time, so I took classes during the May term. I finished these classes with ease. I began wearing maternity clothes when I was six months pregnant. I was gradually getting bigger and didn’t need them until then. It didn’t take long to fit into these clothes. I began gaining weight quickly, swelling very fast and was uncomfortable. It seemed like my approaching due date in July would never get here. I had lost sight of my feet, no longer had ankles, and had only one pair of sandals I could wear. I knew these sandals would never be worn again after pregnancy. They were so stretched out due to my elephant feet. I started having weekly appointments at the end of June. I scheduled the appointments late so Doug could be there with me, since he still had classes. During one of the appointments I noticed the scales. I had gained ten pounds in one week! I wanted to cry. I had done everything to try and decrease the swelling. I kept my feet propped up at night with two pillows and would recline during the day. This only helped with the swelling until I stood up. Once I stood up, the swelling would immediately begin. The entire month of June I stayed inside and in the air conditioning as much as possible. I also drank water and juice instead of drinks with a lot of sodium. My weakness, though, was pizza. I craved pizza almost daily. I knew the cheese was full of sodium, but I couldn’t resist it. This obviously didn’t help my swelling at all. I noticed more stretch marks popping up all over my body. No amount of lotion could help prevent me from getting Grand Canyon stretch marks. The kids always got a kick out of them. Jaden liked running her little finger through the bigger ones and asked, Why do you have these and what are they? My reply, You guys. I explained further and told her when you get bigger, your skin stretches. After I had each baby, my stomach got smaller, but it left the stretchy skin to remind me how neat it was to have you in my belly. She would have me repeat that story to her numerous times. This would always make her laugh. When she began getting stretch marks due to her swelling, this story helped her realize that she didn’t need to be self-conscious of them. No, she wasn’t having a baby, but the stretch marks created her own story.

We went in for a weekly OB visit on July 1. This was supposed to be another normal visit. I was expecting to get my weight and blood pressure checked, see the doctor. and be on our way. He came in and told me I had a condition called pre-eclampsia and that my blood pressure was too high for him to comfortably send me home. He explained what pre-eclampsia was. This condition is a disorder of pregnancy. There are three main symptoms: high blood pressure, swelling of the hands and feet, and protein in the urine. He explained that I had all of these symptoms and that delivery was the only definitive treatment for this serious medical issue. The risks or complications include, stroke, liver or kidney damage, or respiratory distress. This condition can be fatal for both mother and baby. He then told us I needed to go straight to the hospital to be admitted to the OB floor. WHAT?! I was not expecting nor prepared for this. Yes, I was ready to have the baby but was completely caught off guard. I still had a little over two weeks until my due date. The doctor. said due to my blood pressure being high, we needed to get the baby out. The conversation ended. There was no discussing options. We only had one- go straight to the hospital. We went to the hospital to get admitted. Panic and questions set in. What if they didn’t get the baby out in time? What if something happened to me or the baby? Could Doug handle raising a baby on his own? Are we ready? Am I ready for labor? The questions in my head were endless. I couldn’t tell if Doug was nervous or not because I was too concentrated on the revolving questions. I was admitted and would be induced the following day, July 2. Doug stayed with me that night as long as he could. He went home so he could go to school the next day. The doctor seemed confident that unless something went terribly wrong, Doug would not miss the birth if he went to class the day of July 2. I had a flood of emotions after he left. I cried uncontrollably. I was scared, alone, and mad when he left. How could he think school was more important? What IF something happened, and I couldn’t get ahold of him? He was now over two hours away from the hospital. I didn’t have a direct line to get ahold of him. The nurses felt awful for me. They brought me chocolate ice cream and a Pepsi. I ate, calmed down, and tried to sleep. Tomorrow would be a life- changing, exciting day. The next morning came. I was woke up early, weighed, and moved into the delivery room. The doctor came in to break my water. I saw the long, skinny tool he would be using. It was a little unnerving to see it, but to my amazement I felt little to nothing when he broke my water. It was broke around 11 a.m. This was a simple and quick process. Labor would be starting soon. The nurse checked my vitals before leaving the room. She wasn’t gone long before I noticed a small stream of water running from my bed towards the hall. I had retained so much water from having preeclampsia that the water was flowing off my bed. The nurses came, changed my bed, and put plenty of soaking pads down to soak up the water. I called down to college and told the receptionist that they had broken my water and to let Doug know so he could make his way up to the hospital. I was ensured that they would tell him right after we got off the phone. The message wasn’t given to him until the end of class. Thankfully, no issues occurred and he arrived in time for more than half of the labor process. Doug, my mom, dad, brother (Chris), and sister (Stephanie) arrived within two hours after my water was broke. I was administered Pitocin and magnesium. The magnesium was given to try and help reduce my dangerously high blood pressure. I was warned it would not feel pleasant, I would not be allowed out of bed after administering it, and I would have an awful taste in my mouth. Awful doesn’t begin to describe it. It tasted like I was eating rusty nails and the overwhelming heat that coursed through my body was almost unbearable. The burn didn’t last long, but I remained hot the entirety the medication was given. The nurses also placed pillows around my bed in case I would happen to have seizures. This is another health event that could happen due to the pre-eclampsia. This was a nice reminder of how serious my condition was. I began getting uncomfortable at 4 cm. I was still turning down an epidural. Doug and I decided it was best for the baby and myself to avoid pain medication. At 5 cm, this was no longer an option for me. My blood pressure continued to climb. I recall the bottom number being well over 100. My blood pressure was increasing from the pain felt with the contractions. I was given a choice between trying the epidural to see if that would help lower my blood pressure or to begin preparing for a C-Section, a surgical procedure where they have to cut the baby out. I wanted to do everything possible to avoid a C-Section. I opted for an epidural. I felt my body had let me down but knew this was the better of the two options. I was nervous about getting the epidural. I had heard horror stories about reactions and side effects it caused other people to have. I also knew the length of the catheter that would be going in and was not at all thrilled about that. The anesthesiologist and the nurse came into my room. He explained everything he was going to do. He had me lean over my hospital tray while the nurse supported me. My mom and sister were in the room with me. (This kind of scarred my sister for life. For years she talked about watching this). The epidural went in surprisingly easy, not at all what I had envisioned. I was very comfortable and pain free within minutes. I enjoyed the rest of the afternoon visiting, watching a little TV, and eating ice chips. I was jealous of those who were able to eat supper. I was starving, but got sick after eating a Popsicle so I was only allowed to eat the ice chips. No one ate in front of me, but I could smell food on them and food that other patients were having delivered to their rooms. The aroma filled my room, making my starvation worse. The day went by slowly and the anticipation was building. I began having excruciating lower back pain around 8:30 p.m. The nurse requested I receive more pain medicine. She also had me push since back pain was a sign of being close to delivery. Doug had stepped out of the room to grab supper real quick. I was mad at him for getting supper and missing this. I glared him down when he finally did return. My mom, dad, and sister were in the room when the nurse told me to push. My dad left so fast that I didn’t notice he was gone at first. He’s not one to watch people in pain and was not going to have any part of watching me push. Mom and Stephanie stayed in the room while I started pushing. The nurse only had me push once and quickly told me to stop. I went from 7cm to 9cm by pushing one time, which she was not expecting. She went to page the doctor. The time had come. He arrived a little after 9:15 p.m., suited up, organized his tools, and had me start pushing again. I pushed for less than ten minutes. At 9:34 p.m., ten hours after my water was broken, our daughter, Tara was born. She did not have the normal baby cone head, since I had her so fast. She was immediately placed on my chest where the nurse finished cleaning her off. We were ecstatic. Stephanie, who was 9, showed the most excitement. She was grinning ear to ear and couldn’t wait to get ahold of her. I was happy the delivery was easy without any complications. I was worried she would have broad, long shoulders like her dad, but thankfully she didn’t. Doug cut the cord after strong demanding from myself. I didn’t go through all of this just so he could get out of the traditional cutting of the cord. He had never really been around or held infants and didn’t know what to expect. He held her once she was cleaned and wrapped in blankets. He looked nervous and uncomfortable. She was so tiny, but snuggled instantly in his big arms. He didn’t get to hold her for long. The others wanted their turns. She was passed from one person to the next. Doug and I didn’t get to hold her much, but knew we would have our chance later. The delivery room steadily quieted as the crowd began to leave one by one. It was around 11:30 p.m. when the last ones left. It was late and we were both tired. They brought a cot in for Doug. He decided to stay because I had trouble walking. I was not allowed to get up on my own, since I was administered magnesium. This caused me to be off balance and dizzy. I needed his help a lot that night when I got up. Things were blurry, and my head was swirling. Tara didn’t want to eat much that night, which allowed us a little more sleep time. I was moved to another room the next day. The threat of having a stroke was gone, which relieved both of us. We had several visitors again. The main one I wanted to see their reaction to Tara was my grandma. She had not yet got to see or hold her. She was in awe of Tara and couldn’t wait to meet her. The visitors helped pass the time. I didn’t get out of my bed much and didn’t walk around at all. I was still a little dizzy and now had an overbearing headache. I had never had a headache like this before. The nurses told me it was probably a side effect from the epidural. The headache subsided around 9 p.m. that night. We were discharged on July 4. Tara was dressed in an outfit we picked out before she was born. The nurse escorted us to the car and made sure the car seat was in right. I sat in the back with her, and Doug drove slower than he had ever driven before. The summer went by fast. I got Tara on a good school schedule for me, and she actually began sleeping through the night before I went back to school, which was amazing. Tara was just shy of eight weeks old when my sophomore year began. We had several friends that lived in the dorm. We worked it out where I would bring Tara to the dorm and the girls would take turns watching her in their room. She went to college with me for two years. At times, going to class with me. She was such a quiet, well-mannered child who rarely made loud sounds. Doug and I completed both of our degrees on time. Tara was three when I graduated. I applied to some schools, but wasn’t in a rush to get a teaching job yet. I enjoyed spending time with Tara, subbed a lot and was wanting to have a sibling soon for Tara to play with. I had always wanted to have kids two years apart. I hoped they would have a close relationship like my brother and I did growing up. After almost a year of trying, we gave up. I began working 12- hour shifts taking care of an Alzheimer’s patient my junior year in college. I continued working here at least three shifts a week, while still subbing. We also made plans to build a house. We chose a plan that both of us liked, made a few minor adjustments, and began building. We had our basement poured. Once the contractor poured the walls, we began doing most of the work ourselves. Doug’s brothers, dad, and uncles helped when we asked, if they were available. Doug’s grandpa was the main boss. He had a construction background and knew a lot of things. The two of us would work together on my days off. He would measure and mark boards for the walls. I would nail the walls together and when Doug got home, we would put the walls up. His grandpa gained more respect for me one day while I was nailing boards together. I was in awe at the speed and grace Doug could nail things together. He made it look so easy. I tried going as fast as he did using his hammer. The end of it looked like a meat tenderizer. I made the grave mistake of trying to nail the boards together while sticking my right index finger out. I busted the tip of my finger. It looked like someone squeezed a grape. The hammer left line imprints on my skin. The pain shot up to my elbow then went numb. Luckily, I am left handed so I could continue working. I told his grandpa that I needed to go get a Band-Aid. I had blood streaming down my arm by this time. The cut was a little worse than I thought and required several Band-Aids and changing them out multiple times throughout the day. It took awhile for the bleeding to slow down. His grandpa wasted no time and had several more boards marked by the time I got back out. He looked at me and said, I didn’t think you would be back out here. He was marking the boards for Doug, but I finished out the day getting the boards nailed together. He told Doug that night he was amazed because I didn’t cry, and I came right back to work without complaining. I enjoyed his compliment, knowing he didn’t hand them out lightly. I knew we had a timeline of getting the house completed. I didn’t want my mistake to put us behind. In May, we were putting the roof on. I am TERRIFIED of heights. Doug and his dad made fun of me because I wouldn’t stand up right. I walked on the roof like Spiderman. I moved one hand and foot at a time. My job was to hand them shingles so they could nail them on. This was painstakingly gruesome for me. I celebrated when the roof was done and I was no longer required to get on it. The shell of the house was up. The inside was the only thing left. Things were proceeding nicely on the house. I was working two jobs and subbing when I could. I was extremely tired. Working the jobs and putting the house together at night was tiring. Still, something wasn’t right. I didn’t have an appetite, and I was more tired than usual. The Friday before Memorial Day our suspicion was confirmed. I was pregnant with our 2nd child. Our due date was January 20, 2003. My parents and Tara were with me and knew the news first. Doug was on the tractor bush- hogging when I got home. I had him stop and told him what I found out. He said, I told you you were. He took finding out this time much better. He had bonded well with Tara and enjoyed being a dad. We were all looking forward to this baby. His dad was also excited. He loved spending time with Tara and they had a very unique bond between them. He automatically called me prego, which stuck throughout my pregnancy. He was also very protective of me. He would not allow me to get on a ladder, lift heavy things, and told me to get plenty of rest. He was always touching base and keeping tabs on me. We lived near him, so it made it easy to monitor me. He would not hold back scolding Doug if he had me doing something he didn’t think I should be doing. My symptoms were much different this time. I was very sick with Tara but was still able to eat everything in sight. Tara kicked, somersaulted, elbowed me, and punched me all the time. This time I was very nauseous, didn’t eat much, and the baby didn’t move much. I cherished the times I felt movement because it didn’t happen often. Doug felt and saw Tara kick all of the time. Neither Doug nor Tara felt this baby kick a lot. Tara’s face lit up when she did feel the baby kick. She was excited about becoming a big sister. It was precious to see her reaction to the kicks. Everyone had their theory as to why. They thought I was having a boy because everything was so different. I did have specific cravings with this baby. I ate Tootsie Rolls throughout the day. A bowl of Froot Loops was my 2 a.m. craving. The Froot Loops craving started during my 2nd trimester. This was almost an everyday early morning ritual. I remember fondly one night going to bed before Doug and knowing I had just enough cereal left for one bowl. My 2 a.m. hunger struck. I went out to the kitchen and to my amazement, the box was empty. My blood pressure skyrocketed, fists clenched up, and my mind was swirling. How could he have eaten the last bowl of MY cereal? I stomped to our room where he was sleeping, fists still clenched up. I pushed on him until he woke up. I began yelling at him to no avail. He opened his eyes, but then rolled over and went back to sleep, saying nothing, not even sorry. I went back to the kitchen and paced, opened and slammed every cabinet door, trying to find something that would satisfy my craving. I wanted him to know how upset I was, but knew he was fast asleep and seemed to care less about my anger. I settled on a bowl of Corn Pops, but it wasn’t the same. I stayed up for hours that night enraged over a bowl of cereal. Needless to say, we never ran out of Froot Loops again.

The house was progressing but still wasn’t finished. It took us longer because we were both working and building it by ourselves. It was all hands on deck at this point. The finish line was close, but it was small, tedious tasks that needed to be completed. We were really in a hurry to finish the house now. I wanted to be moved in before the baby was born. He worked full time and I was dropped down to part time because I was getting tired easily. The doctor was worried about over exertion and anemia. He wanted me to take daily naps. We both worked on the house after we got home and after I had my nap. I didn’t help every night. His dad helped out at night as much as he could so I could stay home and rest. The drywall needed to be hung up. No one was able to help on this day, so I was lucky enough to be the chosen one for this task. It was a bit of a challenge with my growing stomach. I only helped put up drywall in the baby’s room. I was too big and slow to get much done. His brothers and dad helped him put the rest up. We did contract the mudding due to our timeline crunch. Plus, neither of us wanted to do this. The mudding was completed within days. The walls were now ready for the final touches. The paint was purchased and ready to be rolled. Tara, my mom, dad, Stephanie, and myself worked on the seemingly never ending task of painting the house. We spent an entire weekend painting and still had over half to do. Tara, Doug, and I spent the evenings painting to finish up what we didn’t get done that weekend. The inside was finished just a few days before Christmas. The house we built from scratch with all of the blood, sweat, and tears was finally finished. We had some furniture in the house that had already been delivered. A small tree was set up in the dining room, and I put our presents under it. Our house was slowly becoming a home. We stayed in the house overnight on Christmas Eve. Tara’s bed was in her room and a twin bed was in the spare bedroom. I got to sleep in the twin bed while Doug slept on the floor. I felt bad that he had to sleep on the floor our first night in the house, but I was not going to offer trading places with him. Tara woke up beaming to see her Santa gifts. We made the rest of our Christmas rounds beginning at 8 a.m. Christmas came and quickly went. The house looked like a small Santa’s toy shop. Tara was quite spoiled with many gifts. Tara and I spent a full day organizing her toys. The countdown to the due date was on. A little more than three weeks from now we would be having our second baby. I was only focused on moving all of our things in. We had the Saturday after Christmas set aside when mom and Stephanie would come over. They only live minutes away from us. I had just got off the phone with mom, and I started pushing boxes to the door. Time kept ticking and still no mom or Stephanie. I kept pacing and watched the minutes tick by. I waited about thirty minutes on them. I got impatient and started moving our queen bed outside. The box springs were easy. I was in the middle of roughly throwing our mattress outside when they arrived. They were laughing, a few angered words were said by me, and then we got to moving things. Doug, his dad, and