The Journey

Wow! I made it. I am really a resident of Scotland! I live here now...I hung clothes on the line outside to dry. I ate BP sauce on my bacon roll this morning... I ate Haggis yesterday for lunch and Fish and chips for dinner...I type the @ symbol using the same button at an ', not on the 2 button... I believe this makes me officially Scottish.
It wasn't easy though... let me tell you. From the start.... this has been a rough trip.
For starters, my hometown in South Dakota has been declared a disaster zone by President Obama. Due to more rain and snow melt than anticipated, several dams along the Missouri River have filled passed their max capacity and the dams have been in danger of breaking causing a flash flood and devastation of anything in their path. To avoid this, the same short sided engineers who decided not to let the dams drain a little at a time of the last year decided to drain the dams a LOT at a time. Every few days for the last two weeks they have been opening the flood gates until it reached it max of 150,000 cubic feet per second, on the 8th... the day I left. This is over 4,000 tons of water being released every second. The Missouri River is flooding on both sides, the only thing saving homes from being totally destroyed are a few sand bags the people of Sioux land have been filling night and day. Ground water is still seeping into basements, and houses that are right on the river, there is nothing that could be done. On the plus side, people had warning enough to evacuate and no one need be in danger of drowning. Sadly, one man did die of exhaustion after filling sandbags for 5 days straight. I don't say this lightly, as I really feel awful for this man's family. He was only 38, with two small children. His home and his family weren't in danger, so he helped those whose homes were in danger, and his kindness was repaid in this manner. It's horrible, and my heart goes out to his family.

This definitely puts things into perspective for you, but never the less, my own parents home is in danger of flooding. Being 8 months pregnant there wasn't much I could do to help, but I went for moral support to help my parents evacuate from their home. Seeing our family home completely empty expecting it to be flooded, expecting mold damage, expecting the house to have to be torn down and rebuilt... brought me to tears many many times, and leaving my family in this state has made this particular journey here a difficult one. It has really set in the reality of just how far away I am and that when tragedy strikes.... It's not just as easy as a plane ride away...
With all that hanging on my mind, I realized two days before we were supposed to leave that Isaac had not yet received his plane tickets yet. Lap children are free when flying domestically. With international travel you have to pay 10% of the ticket cost, and then they send you a paper ticket as e-tickets are not good enough for some reason. I called Delta, and told them his tickets hadn't come yet, and the woman put me on hold to check the problem. When she came back she informed me that Delta had neglected to send them out, she was sorry, but that she would make a note of it on my itinerary and I would be good to go. I told her that I had seen another mother show up to the counter with no ticket for her child, and it hadn't turned out very well for her, and that I needed something from delta, an email, or something that would verify that due to Delta's mistake, I had not received my tickets.
She said there was a problem with the network and she couldn't email me anything, but that the notes on my itinerary would be sufficient enough and any delta rep who looked at it would see that I had booked a lap child for the flight.
.....
and I believed her...
I really am the true definition of an idiot.

When Isaac, and my brother Eli, who was travelling with me to help out with Isaac on the flight over, and I arrived at the airport in Sioux Falls, we had arrived with enough time to check in, maybe grab a snack to eat, leisurely go through security, and sit bored at our gate for another hour before boarding... or so we thought. We went to check in our luggage... 6 bags between the three of us (5 of which were mine... plus a few things stuck in Eli's bag) not to mention our 6 carry ons. I knew things might be a little hectic keeping everything straight, but it was more than that. the computer wouldn't let us check in. First their was a problem with my passport. I got a new one in February, so the number didn't match the one they had on file. After they fixed this, it still wouldn't let us check in. They said it might be because the flight was being delayed... this didn't make sense... flights are always delayed and they let you check in. Then they said our return tickets weren't confirmed. I don't even know how that happens. I paid for everything all at the same time, round trip, so if our tickets to the UK are confirmed, our tickets back should be. I didn't mention at this point that I would not even be using the return part of the ticket... it was just a better deal to get round trip instead of one way. When they finally got this taken care of and began checking our luggage, I then asked about the tickets for Isaac. They said it wouldn't be a problem, and they were printing his boarding pass with Eli's. Once we finally arrived at security, I presented Isaac and my Passport to the officer. She looked at my tickets and said... "What's your name?" I said " Timbrel Elayne Bilbrey" she said " It;s not on your ticket anywhere." The woman at the counter had printed Eli's tickets and my tickets in Eli's name. I had to go back up to the counter, wait in line and then have her fix them. Going through security was a nightmare. Every carry on had a bottle, or baby food or some sort of liquid to find and get out. I had to take Isaac out of his car seat, then I had to try to put him back IN which he hated, it just seemed to take forever. By the time we reached our gate, Isaac walked around for about 5 minutes before it was time to board the flight. I sat a few rows behind Eli who held Isaac and they both took a nap on the way to Minneapolis. I did too. When we landed, we went straight to the next gate so I could request bassinet seating on the flight over to Amsterdam. The extra room at your feet is always appreciated when carrying a baby, and since they book these seats in doubles, often times there is an extra seat for the car seat so you don't have to hold Isaac the whole time. He's a sweet kid but holding him for 9 hours on a plane is torture... The woman was really great about moving our seats but then asked for Isaac's ticket. I told her the whole story and she said, "I'm really sorry, but I can't let him on without a ticket." she checked the itinerary on her computer and it didn't show anything at all about delta not sending the tickets. She did say that it showed I had requested a lap child, but that no payment had been made... Holy fricking cow... I'm angry right now just thinking about it.
When I call a reputable company and request a service from them that I pay for, I expect them to do their job. So when I gave the woman my credit card details, I expect it to go through. If there is a problem, I expect them to contact me. Now I don't really know what happened since only two nights before I had spoken with a representative and she said that the baby ticket was booked. Why that had changed... I don't know... but in the end, I had to purchase a whole new ticket for Isaac. I'm sure my normally dark brown eyes were blood red and shooting darts when I handed over my debit card, but I was trying really hard not to throw a tantrum and cry, so this was the best I could do.
A man took over to help us out... aka... run my card and take my money, and I said "I almost always fly delta if possible, and I almost always have a smooth trip, but this time, it has just been a nightmare from the get go with all the mistakes that delta has made on their behalf. I will probably continue to fly delta (as Eli inserted that he probably wouldn't) but some free frequent flier miles or an upgrade in class would really improve my opinion of delta at that moment." The guy laughed, but he did end up booking Isaac an actual seat on the plane to ensure that we could bring his car seat on. He also gave Eli and I both $100 vouchers for our next flight, to be used up within a year. I can assure you Delta will get an earful on how helpful this man was, and how he really saved my mood.
When we got to Amsterdam we had to go through security again... more hassle. Then, for some reason I hadn't been able to check in all the way to Edinburgh. They could check Eli in, but not me. So I had to stop at the counter and ask for a boarding pass. Not sure what the problem was there, because the reps were all speaking Dutch, but in the end, they fixed the problem more efficiently than anyone else had done and said "I'm so sorry for the delay. Delta has made a complete mess of your reservations, so I had to fix "this" and "that" and "the other thing" but you are good to go now.
This flight Isaac was a little more fussy... I think he was just done with the whole plane thing. He was awake and on the slightly fussy side until about 5 minutes before we landed and he fell asleep.
When going through customs, Eli went before me, got a stamp in his passport and when on his way, when I went up I didn't know what to expect... I figured a few questions about my visa and a stamp and I would be on my way...I was not prepared for this...
Where is the visa for your son?
He is a British citizen, so I was told he didn't need one.
Your son is travelling on an American Passport though. Does he have a British one?
No, not yet. That was something his dad and I planned to get him once we got over here.
But he needs a British passport or a visa. Why would you get yourself one and not your son?
This is my first time having to get a visa. I didn't really know what I was doing, so I hired a company who did know. When I asked them if I needed to get a visa for my son they said "No. He is a British Citizen."
Well I still don't understand why you wouldn't have gotten him a passport when you were here before.
We got the paperwork to get one, but it was very confusing, and we just ran out of time before we had to leave to come back to the states.
Well I cannot let him in, without a visa or a British Passport, and if he can't come in, I can't let you in.
Listen, I have been working for almost two years to legally be able to come into this country so that I can marry my fiance, and we can be a family, living in the same country. Because I have had problems in trusting wrong information found online before, I wanted to be SURE that everything was done correctly and legally. I have paid a lot of money for this. My son's father is waiting to see him just on the other side of that door. How can you tell me that you're not going to let my son, who has duel citizenship, not see his father, who is a British Citizen. Please don't keep my family torn apart.
Well let me go talk to my supervisor.
I texted Paul to let him know that they wouldn't be letting Isaac in without a visa or British passport. I told him if Isaac couldn't get in, neither could I, and that if they sent us back to the united states then... I was done with this...I'm not getting denied entry into the UK a third time...
I know that seems a little rash... but finally I have to just admit defeat... We have overcome so many obstacles in our way... we have gone through a lot, with nothing but hope as our light at the end of the tunnel... If after everything we have gone through, and everything we have spent financially to make this happen... and it's STILL not good enough... nothing will ever be...
When Paul got my message he marched up to the information desk and demanded that they put immigration on the phone. When they called he talked to the same woman who had stopped me at customs. When the woman finally came back she stamped Isaac's passport and said we had six months to get him a British Passport, and she let me through.
I don't know what  Paul said, but he did say that if they hadn't cooperated with him he probably would have been arrested for making a huge scene and throwing things.
I'm glad it didn't come to that.
Thankfully all our luggage arrived, and after a short drive from the airport we arrived at my new home. Isaac was simply shattered and fell asleep like he had been drugged. There was no waking him even when I tried. Which is unfortunate because he was then up until 3am.
The last two nights have gone a little better. He is so excited to be with his dad and his sister, although I think he misses grandma. He's doing very well adjusting.
Yesterday we all went into Edinburgh, and saw that castle, then went to Paul's parents house where they treated us to a chippy dinner, and wonderful conversation.
Today, Paul is doing a tour to St. Andrews so Eli went along. I hope they're having a good time. I'm hoping to get as much unpacking done today as possible, as having all your things in various bags around the house is aggravating.
I'm getting used to having to turn the plugs on before I use them, the sun setting at 10pm and rising at 4am, getting into the passenger side of the car on the left, and dealing with Celsius temperatures on the oven, but I now have a dish washer, which I couldn't be more excited about!!! Oh the things we take for granted.
I think I'm gonna like it here!

Having a Scottish Wedding

So, the ball is really rolling now...
In less than three weeks I will be living in Scotland. My apartment is becoming more and more packed and hectic, and wedding plans are moving forward.
In the last week or so, Paul and I have decided that because of the lack of participation on my family's part it would be pointless to have the wedding in the spring. So our civil ceremony on the 24th has turned into a wedding in July instead.
Throwing together a nice wedding is never really easy, but if David Tutera can do it, then so can I!
Now... here in the states, getting married is fairly simple. Each state is a little different, but this is the basic process. Here in South Dakota, you go to the court house or register of deeds in the country you want to get married in. You pay $40 for a marriage license that needs to be used within 20 days. There is no waiting period. So once you have your license you can get married right away. In order to get your marriage license you have to bring a valid ID, like a drivers license, military ID card, or birth certificate. After you get married the person who married you, judge, or anyone authorized by the church or state to marry you has 10 days to turn in the signed marriage license or there will be no record of your marriage.
Simple right? Once you have your license you can get married in the court house, in a church in that county, in a home in that country, in a park, in a parking lot, or restaurant or wherever...
Not so in Scotland.
This is what we have done so far.
Paul called the General Registry office in Livingston last January to book a tentative date. We needed a receipt from the Registry office in order to get my visa. As the time grew closer, we were going to have the civil ceremony and I was planning a wedding on board the Lord of the Glen on Loch Ness next spring. Then Paul informed me how sad his mother was that they wouldn't be there for the ceremony as they had already planned a trip to Spain for the 24th. (Super Jealous!)
In any case two weeks ago Paul went to the Hermitage outside of Dunkeld and sent me some beautiful pictures! I have been there several times before, but it is especially beautiful this year.

 The first time I saw it I thought it would be a gorgeous place for a wedding. After seeing the pictures Paul took (Note: These aren't them, I got these off google because I haven't uploaded the ones Paul sent me, but his are even better then these because the trees are all flowering on them, it the colors are just really beautiful!) I thought, "Why not see if we can tie the knot in Dunkeld?" It would make the day really beautiful without adding much of a cost... as you can see the place takes no decorations, and is a lot prettier than the inside of a court room. I asked Paul who said he would check. When he called he found out that not only could we not get married in Dunkeld, because you have to get married at an "approved venue" plus a bunch of other paper work that made it impossible, but also that the Registry office had been sending him notices to his old address requesting some forms that needed to be turned in by June 1. With such a short time period, Paul and I talked it over and thought "Lets push the date back, so we don't have to feel rushed" also, we can invite Paul's parents as well.

I talked to my family members, and with so much going on, and the economy being such as it is, no one could say for sure if they could come...so we decided not to do anything this spring and have a small wedding in July, and then have a small reception at the Inn on board the a Canal Boat that floats up and down the Union Canal.

The Inn

 

When Paul called to change the wedding date, The registry office said they were already booked for that day, we thought about changing the date again, but I will be 32 weeks then, and I feel like 31 weeks is pushing it, I'm already tired as all get out at 27 weeks, and I want to be able to dance at my wedding and not have my water break! We saw that the Inn is a licensed wedding venue, so we asked the Livingston office if we could get married at the Inn instead. They said that wasn't in their district, we would have to contact the Registry office in Edinburgh instead.

So I called Edinburgh, and they have four Registry workers available to marry us that day, as apparently they are the only ones licensed to marry you... which is kind of sad I think. Seems to me like that makes it so impersonal... but.. oh well... in any case, I called them and they have 4 people available to marry us on the 16th, but in order to get married, We have to book the Inn, get something called an AT1 form from them. Fill it out and both Paul and I have to sign and send it in. That's easier said then done since I am still in the states. Then I have to fill out two other documents, and provide them with both our original birth certificates as well as my original divorce documents so they can make sure that I am legally divorced in the UK, because sometimes the divorces here aren't found to be legal in the UK... which will super piss me off if that's the case. I'm assuming though that if the UK embassy gave me a finace' visa they found my divorce documents acceptable, so I'm not really worried. Then we have to pay another 280 pounds to the registry office in Edinburgh... I think we will probably end up eating the down payment Paul already put down at the Livingston office, but I guess that is how it goes... In any case... all this legal stuff is really irritating and makes planning a wedding incredibly tedious and miserable... which I assume is why anytime I talk to Paul about what we need to get done his eyes glaze over, his voice gets distant, and he acts about as excited as someone being forced into an arranged marriage before telling me that he can't listen to all this anymore because it's making his head spin... so I don't know... maybe we will get married... or maybe none of this stuff will get done and we will end up wasting time and money before I get sent back to America...

I'm not irritated at all right now...

The thing is we can't really start the fun stuff of the wedding, like what music we will have, flowers, and invitations, and all that until the stupid but necessary stuff gets done... even so, I've made some mock up invitations that I am quite proud of.

In any case, hopefully once all this boring, expensive legal stuff is taken care of, and we start planning the fun stuff I will feel like Paul wants to marry me again.

Ugh... My Aching Back

As I have previously stated in my Post of Isaac's Birth Story, people say you forget all about the pain of childbirth once you hold that precious little bundle in your arms. That is a dirty, ugly, vicious lie. I remember it all... it makes the pain WORTH it, you don't forget it... here is what you do forget about... well I did anyway.
The morning sickness, the swollen ankles, the sore back, the constipation, the tiredness, the intolerance for... well everything, but especially stupid people, and anyone who doesn't agree with you, the ice cream cravings, the hot dog cravings, and the nights of little or no sleep.
I had completely forgotten about that. If I had been talking to anyone about my pregnancy with Isaac I would have said "Except for the seven weeks of bedrest, I had the perfect pregnancy!"

I don't know if I've just forgotten the pain, or if this one is worse, but as much as I can remember of the last one... this one is worse.
The last few nights (granted I have been packing up my apartment and lifting heavy boxes, etc) my back has been in so much excruciating pain that I can hardly walk. I'm literally in tears trying to get from one room to the next.
That said... Here are two pictures to compare:

27 Weeks pregnant with Isaac

26 Weeks pregnant with Aria

It might be a little bit difficult to tell with these pictures that my baby bump is about 5 inches bigger this time around than it was with Isaac. I was still wearing size 12 non maternity jeans in the picture with Isaac... so being so much bigger, and about 40 pounds heavier, I can see why I am having back problems... The problem with my back goes much further than just the pain in my back though....

I feel like a terrible mother to Isaac right now. I physically can't get down on the floor to play with him, and when I do... I REALLY pay for it later. I can't pick him up easily... or hold him while walking around, or chase him around, and it just kills me inside to have to say "I'm sorry Isaac, mommy can't pick you up." or "Mommy needs to rest." He just looks so crushed like "Don't you love me?? Don't you want to play with me??"

I really thought I would be a better mother than I am. I really hoped that all the nights of crying myself to sleep because I was this worthless barren woman would turn me into a mother who went all out for her kids, no matter the sacrifice, and no pain was too large to keep me from having fun with my kids...

I want to be that mom that is a lot of fun, that makes the best lunches, that all their friends want to come hang at our house because I make it cool... probably just saying that makes me a bit of a loser, but I can't help it... I need to change this pattern, but I need to do something about my back....all my back pain went away immediately after I had Isaac... but I don't want to have to wait three months for Aria to be here before I can be a good mom again... because by that time I will have another baby that will take all my attention... My poor little Isaac... he really got the short stick... The first year of his life was spent without his dad here, and the second nine months of his life was spent with a pregnant mother who is also a student, who just cant seem to stretch my time and my strength and energy to do much more than sit with him and read him books.... the rest of his life will be spent as the middle child with all the attention going to the baby... He deserves a way better life that this.  

It Suddenly Hit Me!

Paul and I were discussing our plans for what I have effectionately coined "The 24th". This is when we are officially getting married, however I don't want to say "the wedding" or even use the term "Getting Married" because we're "supposedly" having a wedding this spring, ya know, when I'm thin again, and my family and friends can come out for it... So we were discussing "The 24th" and "the 24th" is looking like it might be pushed back a little bit for several reasons.

1st being that there is apparently a bunch of paperwork that we didn't know about that has to be in by the first, original documents signed by myself and Paul.... except that I won’t be there until the 9th.

2nd being that Paul's parents will be out of the country for a few weeks over the 24th. They would really like to be there, and I would really like them to be able to come, however I have been telling myself that this date isn't really a big deal because our "real wedding" is going to be next spring, when everyone can be there and I'm skinny.

However, while discussing "the 24th", a subject that usually makes me giddy all over, today, it suddenly hit me.

We're not going to have a wedding in the spring. None of my family except for my sister and her husband and my parents are even attempting to attend. If all of Paul's family and friends come to this one, they probably won’t come to the "real wedding"... so this is it... This courtroom ceremony with none of my friends, and none of my family, and I'm going to be pregnant and fat and ugly.

I look at myself in the mirror right now, and no matter how hard I try to make myself up, do my hair, and my make up, and pick my clothes out carefully, I can't seem to look at myself and say "I look good today." I just look fat and ugly, and Paul is going to see me in four weeks and thing "Whoa... she got fat... THIS is not the woman I asked to marry Me." and his friends who already don't like me are going to meet me for the first time and thing "Whoa... Paul is really slumming it with this one... We tried to talk him out of it..."

I bought a dress to wear... This is me trying it on in the store:

When I saw this dress at the store I knew it was exactly the style I was looking for. Simple, elegant, didn't hide my pregnancy, but didn't embellish it either. When I tried it on in front of my friend she said "This is the Dress!" I agreed. I told her I didn't feel real comfortable with my bare arms showing, but that I thought I could match the material with a shawl or shrug.

I later tried it on for my mother who just loved it. She raved and raved about how beautiful the dress was and how much she loved it. I think she likes this dress better than the wedding dress I wore when I married Josh.

I am so excited about this dress...in fact if I weren’t pregnant I would probably go with a similar style for my "real wedding." What makes it even better is I got it for an AMAZING price. I sent a picture of it to a good friend of mine and this was the reply I got: "Hmm... not really a fan of the dress, just not sure I like the style for your figure. Afraid you won’t be happy with it, but if you’re ok in it, that's all that matters!"

I realize she meant well... but... she has absolutely no idea how her text message has not only made me feel insecure in my hideously fat body, but trampled on the little bit of joy I did feel about the dress. I felt pretty when I wore it... now... I feel... grotesquely ugly, no matter what I'm in... Ya know, just how every bride should feel... 

Isaac's Birth Story

With my son being close to 13 months old and my daughter being about 3 months away from being born herself, I feel it is about time to write Isaac's birth story. I love to tell it, I just haven't written it down. It's time.

The months leading up to Issac's birth were difficult for me. Paul was living over seas, so I spent the majority of my pregnancy alone. At 29 weeks I was put on bed rest for 7 weeks due to some preterm labor issues.
I was already dilated 3 cm, so I spent that time worrying if I would have a premature baby, and if Paul would miss the birth of our first child together.

Paul came out about 1 week before Isaac's due date. He had to leave to go home on the 16th, so once he arrived, we were walking and eating the spiciest foods around to try and encourage labor. The days passed and nothing worked. A few days before my due date, a friend told me she had drank 1/4 cup of balsamic vinegar and that sent her into labor within 3 hours. I tried and and it sent me throwing up in the toilet for about 3 hours. My due date was approaching and so was the date Paul was leaving and I was very aware that Paul was going to be able to spend less and less time with his new born son. My doctor said she would induce me the Monday after my due date if I hadn't had the baby yet. I really didn't want to be induced as I had planned for a natural labor, and women who are induced tend to have more difficult labors.
I had a concert on my due date. So the night before, Paul and I had driven down to Sioux City for a rehearsal with the orchestra. We arrived back to Vermillion around 10:00. I made some tea for us, and turned on friends. "The one where Rachel has a baby"
Paul went through to the bed room to get comfortable before the show started, and I was getting the tea ready when I felt an ache in my stomach. I had to hold onto the table to wait for it to pass, and while doing so noticed the time on the microwave. 10:24.
I thought I was having gas pains, so I went into the bedroom and took a Rolaids. While watching friends, I felt the same pain a few more times and thought "could this be contractions?" I had never had a contraction before, not even 1 braxton hick, and my doctor told me "You'll know when you're in labor!" I decided that these were just gas pains made worse my the power of suggestion due to Rachel being in labor on TV.
between episodes, I went to use the bathroom thinking maybe that might help. on my way there I had another really strong gas pain that stopped me in my tracks on the way to the bathroom. I was holding onto the bed and the dresser waiting for it to pass when Paul came into the bedroom and said "Why are you standing here, alone in the dark?" I didn't know what to say. If it really was just gas, I didn't want to tell him I was having gas pains, and I didn't want to tell him I might be having contractions either, just in case it was false labor. I said "I'm just standing here... in the dark."
Paul looked at me and said "Don't get weird." then walked out of the room.
I wanted to cry... I wasn't trying to be weird! I was trying to act normal... it wasn't working. I walked into the living room and said "I think I might be in labor. I think I've been having contractions for about an hour."
He took it pretty well. He didn't seem to panic like all the guys do in the movies, but at this point I don't think either one of us were convinced I was actually in labor. I tried to call my mom and my sister-in-law, but neither one answered their phones, so I texted them, but got to reply.
Paul thought we should time the contractions... and even though we had both attended prenatal classes, and this was Paul's second child, but neither one of us knew how to time contractions, so we had to google it.
The contractions we lasting six minutes, and then thirty seconds... and sometimes they would be ten minutes apart, and then 3 minutes apart. They were all over the place. I said "I don't think this is real labor." and Paul thought maybe we should call the hospital just in case. I didn't really want to so I tried my mom again. This time she answered and told me to get some rest. If I was still having contractions in an hour, then to call her again.
So, Paul and I went to bed, and I fell asleep. I would wake up when I had a contraction, breathe through it with Paul holding me tight and when it was over, I would fall right back to sleep.
Paul finally said that he didn't think the contractions were going away. I called my mom again, but she didn't answer. Paul finally convinced me to let him call the hospital. When I told them that the contractions weren't consistent they said it probably was false labor but to go ahead and come in anyway.
I was kind of annoyed. It was just after 3am, and I had a concert in Sioux City the next day that I was going to be exhausted for after going into the hospital for a few hours, them saying I wasn't really in labor and then being sent home. I live in vermillion, so it's a good 45 minutes to the hospital, but at this point Paul was starting to talk really fast hurrying to get dressed and get our things in the car. He was saying "There's no need to panic, we just need to stay calm, and everything is going to be fine." I think it was sweet that he was trying to comfort me, but I think he was really trying to comfort himself, because I wasn't worried at all. I knew I wasn't going to have a baby anytime soon.
On the way to the hospital, I was enjoying the view of the clear starry night through the moon roof. I had a few contractions on the way, and where they weren't comfortable, I said to Paul "I don't know why all those women complain, this isn't so bad."
Paul just kept his mouth shut... which is good because I'm sure God up in heaven was looking down on me laughing saying "Oh YEAH????"
When we arrived at the hospital, a male nurse wheeled me upstairs to the labor and delivery room. He joked with us on the way saying he could usually call it when people were in with real or false labor, and said he would probably see us the next time we came to check in.

Once in the room, the nurse gave me a gown to check in and asked if I wanted anything to drink. I asked for some orange juice, then they hooked up a monitor, right in the middle of a contraction. The nurse said, "Wow, you're having a big one right now." I managed a painful smile and breathed out, "Yeah, you're right." She monitored me for about 20 minutes before saying "You're really in labor, so we'll check you quick, and see where you're at."
six hours of labor and I was only dilated 4 cm... which since I had already been dilated 3 cm, that meant only 1 cm in six hours. I knew it was going to be a long labor.... at that rate, I would be there for days.
The nurse encouraged us to get up and walk around for a little bit which honestly was the last thing I really wanted to do, but I knew it would help in the long run, so I got unhooked and hopped out of bed, and we went walking.
The OB ward of the hospital is shaped like a big T. The nurses station is right where the T comes together at the top, and my room was on the right side of the top of the T. I had a contraction at the nurses station before turning down the tall part of the T. I had another contraction half way down the hallway, then again 3/4 of the way, and then another at the very end. Each contraction, Paul held me and we "danced through" the contraction. He was so great, and so supportive. If I hadn't been so uncomfortable, it would have been really romantic. After reaching the end of the hallway, we began our slow journey back up, but I was having contractions every couple of steps. By the time we reached the nurses station again they were really coming one right behind the other. I said "Paul, I don't want to walk anymore." He said "I know, honey, but the nurses really want you to. Lets just go down this last hallway, and then we'll go back to the room." I said OK, and we headed down the left side of the top of the T, we didn't make it very far though before I said "I can't I want to go lay down." This time he said OK, and we slowly walked and danced and contracted back to my room. I've never been so happy to see a bed. The nurse came back in and checked me again and in less then 200 minutes I had gone from 4 cm to 9 cm dilated and fully effaced. She said she would go call the doctor, and I decided to just hang out in the room.
Paul and I had been so sure that we were going to be sent home that we hadn't even bothered to bring our bags in. I didn't have my birthing plan or anything that I wanted with me. Paul asked if he wanted me to go get it but at this point, I didn't want him to be anywhere but right at my side, so that's where he stayed.

 As long as I had a few minutes, even seconds between contractions I was OK. I could catch my breath, calm my nerves, and be ready for the next one, although I couldn't help saying "Oh no!" or "Not again!" Each time a new one would start. At one point, I began to throw up during a contraction. WHILE I was vomiting up my orange juice (which was awful... orange juice... not fun to throw up... it burns!) the nurse smiles and says "I knew you were going to throw up as soon as you asked for orange juice!" I didn't find this as entertaining as she did and shouted "Why did you give me orange juice then???"
Another contraction hit, and I threw up again... really violently... I felt water streaming down my legs, and when the contraction had subsided I said "I either just wet myself, or my water broke." She looked and said, "Congratulations! Your water broke!"
At this point I was in full on labor, there was no "between contractions" anymore. They were coming at me one on top of the other. I couldn't catch my breath, I couldn't even say "Oh no!" when a new one would start... I cried, and I screamed a little bit remembering the mothers from the video's that I watched on natural child births who would also scream. I remembered mentally poking fun at them and how undignified they were, vowing that I was going to make cute birthing noises if it killed me. Yeah.... I was worse than any of those mothers... I screamed like a tortured baby.
At one point during two contractions hitting me at the same time I thought "Maybe I should have gotten an epidural". I had watch a video with a woman who had gotten an epidural though and the needle was about the size of a coffee straw! NO JOKE! They have to put this tub into your skin, and then put this 8 inch long needle into the tube so they put the needle in the right place in your spine! Yeah, one thought of that needle and the contractions didn't seem so bad all of a sudden. As if to read my mind, the nurse said "You're almost there now. It's too late for any drugs, and your baby will be here soon!"
I wasn't comfortable in any position, and just kept turning and turning on the bed... the most comfortable position for me was on my hands and knees, so that's where I would be during a contraction. being hooking up to a monitor and an IV made this difficult... I finally was ripping at the monitor and where in my head I am sure I said "This is very uncomfortable, would you mind removing the monitor for me until it is absolutely needed?" what actually came out was "Get this off me!!!"
The nurse took it off and I felt much better but couldn't seem to get rid of this suffocating feeling that my clothes and the bed were causing me. There was a fan in the room, and when it would blow up the back of my open hospital gown cooling off everything.... down there.... and that felt so good!
A nurse came in and said "Your mom is here, do you want to cover up with a sheet?" I felt the fan, and thought about the sheet and looked behind me to see my bare butt up in the air and said "No... she's seen it before."
My mom came in and I whimpered "It hurts mom" and she said "I know but you're doing great!" I heard the nurse tell her aid "I need you to get me the orange gloves with the grips." and I thought, my doctor isn't going to make it in time.
Then the nurse said "If you feel the need to push now, it's OK to push." Really... I didn't ever feel the urge to push, but I wondered if maybe pushing would help relieve some of the pressure.... It didn't really... in fact, I think I might have even been trying to push, but it wasn't really working.
About 3 minutes after my mom arrived Dr. Danner arrived, and said to go ahead and push with the next contraction. I was still on my hands and knees but nothing really happened in that position. She said it might be easier for me to push if I was sitting up right with my legs in the stirrups.
I turned and the bed was propped up a bit more to where I was in a somewhat reclined position, with my legs up, and I pushed with the next contraction.
The doctor said she could see the head. I'm sure at this point Paul wanted to look, but...
Did you KNOW that the majority of women fart, poop, and pee while pushing the baby out??? Paul and I aren't that close yet, and just in case I was one of those women... I didn't really want Paul to see all that, we're not that close yet...but he was so understanding and great about it. As it is... I really don't know if I did any of those things... If I had to guess I would say no... but there's a lot going on down there, and it's would have been hard to tell if I had.
With the next contraction the head was out. She said "Stop pushing now."
One of my concerns was that Isaac might have his chord wrapped around his neck. I knew that doctors stopped you at this point to clean out the mouth, and unwrap the chord if it's there. When she had me stop I said "Is he OK???" The doctor said "He's fine. We'll push the rest of the body out with the next contraction. A moment later I was pushing again, and then relief! He was out! He looked purple and had such dark hair, and then he was on my tummy and I was holding this gooey, bloody, screaming baby in my arms.

The doctor rubbed him down with a blanket to clean him up some and then the doctor asked Paul if he wanted to cut the umbilical chord. Paul went and cut it, and then a nurse took the baby to be weighed and measured and cleaned up while I delivered the placenta. The doctor massaged my stomach and the thing just sort of... plopped out. I remember saying "That's not comfortable" and then it was done. Dr Danner continued to massage my stomach to ebb some of the bleeding.

Isaac was wrapped in a blanket with a diaper on and handed back to me. About that time my brother and Sister-In-Law and their two kids arrived to see the new baby. we all took turns holding him before Liz encouraged me to try and nurse him right away. Then everyone was ushered into my nursery suite. I didn't get much sleep that day because I wanted to just look at my baby all day.

 He was so much cuter than I ever imagined and I was surprised at how cute I thought he was. I was prepared to love my baby no matter what he looked like and had prepared myself for an ugly baby... but he wasn't! He was perfect. Isaac slept most of that day, and was up most of that night. I had wanted to room in with him, but at 4 that morning I had been up for almost 3 days and a nurse finally came in and asked if I wanted them to take him to the nursery and they would bring him back when it was time to eat. I felt a little guilty, but I was glad for the nurses help. I got about three hours of the most amazing sleep and then I was ready to be a mom again!

I stayed in the hospital three days before they released us. In that time, Isaac had all his new born shots and tests, and was circumcised. It was pretty traumatic for me, but apparently Isaac slept through the procedure.

 On Isaac's third day of life we were released around 4:00pm where we went to my moms for a "Welcome to the world Party" for Isaac.

It's hard to believe that was a year ago, and what an amazing year it has been... It's scary and daunting to think I'm going to be going through all this again in three months time, and even though being a mom can be very challenging, I know I will have Paul to help me, and I'm excited about all the adventures the years to come will bring.

Sigh... I want to get married too!!!

I am a sucker for a good romance story. I love to ask my grandma about how she and my grandpa met and fell in love. It's typically one of the first things that I will ask a couple when I meet them. (Because I am nosey, and have no sense of boundaries... I am American after all)
It's fun to ask newly weds how they met, fell in love, how she was proposed to, what there wedding was like, but I love asking couples who have been married for 50 years, or ya know... a really long time.
The reason Disney ends their movies after a few wedding scenes is because if they didn't close the movie with a heart fading the screen to black, as they rode off into the sunset in their golden carriage then they would have to go through what it is like for two people with completely different backgrounds to mesh their life styles, their ideals, how they want to raise their kids, what religion they will practice, Why does your mother hate me? You never eat anything I cook.. bla bla bla...lol... ya know, the stuff real relationships are made of!
That's why I love hearing the stories of how a couple met, fell in love, got married, the hardships they went through that they over came and in the end strengthened their love, the funny stories of fights that seemed so important way back when but now just seem silly, and ridiculous... that make you laugh now...
If you happen to speak to someone who has been widowed, they never have any fighting stories. They only remember the good things and claim  that "They never really fought..." You know that's pretty impossible, but you love that they only remember the good things. Their love stood the test of time, and survived even after death.
I got up this morning at 4am to watch the Royal Wedding Festivities, and I thought that everything was just beautiful, and elegant.
I loved watching everyone arrive, and seeing how the crowds were so happy and supportive. I was scared to see Kate's... ahem... I mean Her Royal Highness, Princess Catherine, Duchess of Cambridge, Lady Carrickfergus, Countess of Strathearn's wedding dress, as I thought I would be disappointed, but I couldn't have been more impressed. I thought her dress was beautiful, and looked incredible on her. I thought it was tasteful and classic, exquisite, but not over the top. The tiara she wore sparkled and looked so graceful on her. The way she wore her hair, the way her veil flowed behind her, the embroidery on her skirt and train, and the lace that covered her arms... everything was just perfect. She looked just like a real fairy tale princess.
Being divorced once myself, I know how hard it is to keep a marriage together. I'm hoping for better success in my next marriage, and I'm hoping for better success for them. It seems like they truly love each other. I love that they were friends first, and that he persued her. I love that she didn't throw herself at him at the first sign of his attentions, and that when they broke up, she maintained her own social life, and when he persued her again, she didn't just go running back. I love that their dating relationship has lasted longer than most of the royal marriages in the last several years, and that they really seem to truly love each other.
I really wish them all the best, and that in 50 years their grandchildren will be asking them about their love story, because it really is a lovely one. I hope that they over come all the petty fights, and differences of opinion, and social, and cultural differences. 
Watching their wedding made me think a lot about my wedding coming up.
Being pregnant, I don't want to have a wedding just yet, as I don't want to be pregnant in my wedding pictures. Instead I would like to have a wedding next spring, and get married on or around Loch Ness as Loch Ness has a lot of meaning to Paul and I seeing as we met there.
That is still months away though and I think it will be easier to put more planning into it after I am over there.
We are getting married on June 24th in their version of a Justice of the peace.
I would love if I could wear a dress like this:

But maybe in White or a a more pale pastel color.

I would love for Isaac and Amy to be there, and a couple witnesses, like Paul's sister Lisa and her boyfriend, and then Paul's brother Jason. I would love for my parents and his parents to be there, but My parents are going to come for the big wedding and his parents will be in Spain.

After we are husband and wife I'd like to go someplace nice to eat with whatever family and friends want to join us. Have people toast and congratulate us, maybe get a relative to take the kids for the night and that's all. Nothing too fancy, but something to mark the occasion.

Honestly though, If we did nothing but show up at the courthouse in jeans, use a court appointed witness, and go home afterwards while Paul plays with the kids and I do laundry, and make sandwiches for dinner... I would be happy with that too... I just can't wait to be his wife. I can't wait for him to introduce me as "And this is my wife, Elayne"... or if he throws in a few nice adjectives, like "and this is my wonderful wife, Elayne" I'd be cool with that too! Last summer on occasion he would accidentally say things like "bla bla bla, my wife" or I would accidentally say  "bla bla bla my husband" and I always thought it was kind of funny.

I can't wait until we can say it for real...

The Glory Days

Sometime in the middle of the night I woke to my dark room. I rolled over in my bed and tried to go back to sleep, but I had no such luck. I looked at the alarm clock and it read 5:17. I rolled out of bed like a beached whale trying to get back into the ocean, and clutched my sore back like an old woman, each step to the bathroom causing more and more pain.
I start physical therapy for my back today. I'm 27, and it really limits my activity. I don't know if it's something thats always been there from, a fall, or too many hours sitting on a plane pinched a nerve or if it's my back over compensating for my giant pregnant tummy, if I've put too much weight on too fast with this pregnancy and my joints just cant handle it since I am now an old woman of 27, or if lifting my now 1 year old son and crawling around on the floor is just too much for me, but whatever it.... I don't like it.

This is a picture of my son and I taken on Saturday, April 23. As you can see, my face is looking a little "thicker" and that arm hasn't seen the gym for a while. If the camera panned a little lower you would see a watermelon sized tummy, and hips that are proportionate to those giant knockers my son is resting his arm on.

The hardest thing I have ever done in my entire life was go from this:

To this:

And just for the record, I was already 2 months pregnant here.
It took me from October 2008 to September to lose 128 pounds. It took hours at the gym EVERY DAY, it took self contol from eating things I wanted but I knew weren't good for me. It took planning, and mental pep talks, and encouragement, and money (mostly to buy new clothes, but healthy foods are more expensive that fatty foods) and knowlege on how understanding how our bodies work, and nutrition. It consumed me 24 hours a day, constantly being on guard against laziness, snacking, and self sabbatoge.
Glen Beck used to be an alcoholic and obese. He kicked his drinking habit and has been sober now for several years. He also lost weight as he felt going from a radio show to a TV show, his TV career would never take off if he was fat. He said that he is exceptionally proud of over coming his alcoholism, but he way much more proud of over coming his obesity as that was way more difficult.

Now here, I am... 24 weeks into my second pregnancy, watching the scale go up instead of down, feeling familliar aches and pains from when I was overweight, and scared that maybe this time... I wont be able to do it. What if this time I cant lose the weight, and Paul wont find me attractive anymore? I won't have the energy to do all the fun things we like to do. I wont have the energy to play with my children. People will see me and judge me before knowing me because I am overweight. What if I pass my bad habbits down to my kids and they become overweight?
I can't go back there, and I refuse to. I like being pretty. I like turning heads. I like having energy, and being able to wear what I want, and shop where I want. I'm tired of looking at old pictures of me like this one:

 And thinking, I wish I still looked like that. I wish I still had those long slender legs, and that tiny waist.

I  wish I wish I wish....

I want to hear some of your stories... what is the hardest thing you have ever done? How did you accomplish it? Inspire me! Motivate me! Give me the hope to say "I did it once... I can do it again!"

But I want to Keep My First Born Child

I wanted to purchase my plane tickets to move to Scotland yesterday. One for me, one for my brother who is so very kindly helping me with my son on the flight over as I will be too pregnant to hold him the whole flight, and of course one for my lap child.
I expertly signed into expedia as I have done so many times before, typed in the abbreviation for the airports I would be flying in and out of, and then almost f ell out of my chair when I saw the price they were asking per plane ticket.
1 ticket to Scotland: Your right arm
2 tickets to Scotland: Your first born

I have never in my life paid that much for an international ticket. Darn these climbing gas prices.
Whenever I go into the "I can remember when gas was 73 cents per gallon" rant, my mom comes back with "I remember when gas was 10 cents a gallon."

I hope someday I will be saying "I remember when we used gasoline to fuel cars." and my kids will be saying "Remember when you had to sell our big brother for plane tickets because gas was so high? That's so silly, why didn't you start using Ethenol/hydrogen/compost for fuel sooner?"

I havent asked in a few weeks as I feel it's a bit of a sore subject, but I believe that "petrol" as they call it, in the UK is around 3 pounds per liter of gas. that is approximately $5.00 of 1 litre of gas. there are 3.8 liters in 1 gallon of gas. So they are paying about $19.00 a gallon for gas right now.... That is so depressing I'm not even going to round up to $20...
I put $50.01 of gas in my car last week, it didn't even fill it all the way up... I drive a tiny little Honda accord. if it continues to cost me $50+ for gas each week, I really think it is becoming more econmoical to put money into alternitive fuels, different cars that run off different fuel resources.
Personally I am an ethinol fan. It helps the local farmers, it's made from renewable resources, it's by-product is feed for cattle, it's a higher octane fuel, and burns cleaner, making it more envirnmentally friendly. It is beer in it's purest form, and denaturing it with oil will still help us keep up our public relations with other countries, and make the oil tycoons happy. ( moderately) But something must be done.
in my lifetime we have made the switch from Records, to casette tapes, to CD's to MP3's. From Film projectors, to video's to DVD's to Blue Ray. If we can choose this quickly between High Def and Blue ray, I think we can make a decision between which alternative fuel to go to, but it doesn't really matter, just pick one and DO SOMETHING!
When I live in Scotland, I want to be able to visit my family back here without having to sell my children on ebay.
Is that really too much to ask??

What they don't teach you in School

I am an average student. I get decent grades but not wonderful grades. In high school, I was on some medication that made me tired a lot, and I slept in class quite a bit... But I don't believe ANY of my classes EVER had a "How to move to another country" segment.
That would have been really useful!
Here is what I know. We as Americans enjoy a lot of freedoms... most of us feel like we are not just deserving of a good life, but entitled to one. We don't like it when people tell us we can't do something, and because immigration into the US is such a huge problem, most people are too busy complaining about the amount of people entering our country illegally it never crosses out minds that someone might want to live in a different country someday... after all... We are the land of opportunity, we have free speech, and the right to remain silent. We have Wal-mart, where you can go, get your oil changed, tires rotated, get your groceries, have your pictures developed in an hour and buy paint to redo the kitchen all in one trip, on one bill, we have 24 hour restaurants where you can get breakfast any time of day, and unlimited refills on drinks, and we have the best toilet paper in the world... who would want to leave this place?
Well... I guess I do... so how do I do that?
Something about a visa? Where do I get one of those? What I don't qualify for a working visa? But, I am an educated, upper middle class AMERICAN, you can't tell me no!
Actually they can, and they will...
1st things first, it is embarrassing to be denied entrance into a country because you don't have the right visa... or a visa at all... Do not trust google to give you the information you need on this one... we are talking about international laws here. Most countries have a little bit of a chip on their shoulder when it comes to America, and a lot of them for good reasons, but we wont go into that... they want us to come visit and spend our money there, but they don't want us to live there. Usually this arrangement works fine.
I got some bad information off a UK government website...and now they have a file on me ( complete with my finger prints) that gets pulled every time I travel to the UK...
So you're moving abroad... contact this place: http://www.globalvisas.com/
Contact them before you do anything else. They will gather your information, and get a price quote for you. It is expensive, but it is worth it. The visa application cost is over $1,000, you will pay the company over $1,000 but they will make sure you get everything right the first time, so you don't have to repeatedly apply, coming up with $1300 every time. The government is poor and they have to make their money somehow... they would love nothing better than to deny your application and make you try again... and pay again. Do not try to do it yourself!
Once you have your visa back, are you going to move all your things? Are you going to sell everything and purchase them again once you get over there?? I am not going to do that... It has taken me years to collect all the things I own, I want to keep them... after spending the summer in Scotland, I also discovered that everything there is twice the price. You want to buy a value meal at burger king here? Sure! Here are your fries and a drink with a hamburger. That will be $5.00. You want a value meal there? Sure! Here are your fries and a drink with a hamburger, that will be 6 pounds... 6 pounds = about $10.00. Do you really want to pay $10 for burger king???
Everything is twice the price... here is the other thing... twice the price but... is it as good of quality? Is it better quality? I bought a french press here and sent in to my future in laws. It's a nice french press... works well every time. While in Scotland, I saw they sold french presses there, I purchased one since Paul doesn't have a coffee pot. (They used instant coffee... I know I know... what is that? I'll save that for a later blog) The french press was so cheaply made the mesh started to rust, and the pressing part kept coming apart. I was not impressed with my expensive item. I wanted to buy a blender, but I didn't want to spend 50 pounds on a blender, I purchased a hand held blender instead for 14 pounds (around $25) depends on what you're blending... and it has one setting - baby food consistency. don't try to mash potatoes or make a fruit smoothie, or really most things you want a blender for when using a hand blender... not until you've had a lot of practice as they can be tricky.
George Foreman grill... um I couldn't go a whole summer without one, it was worth the purchase price of a billion dollars... just kidding. 58 pounds, so over $100 dollars for the smallest George Foreman made without removable plates. My family George Foreman with removable plates was $40. I am purchasing a transformer (our voltage is 120, theres is 220... enough to stop the heart of any American appliance... don't plug it in with just a converter, you need a transformer) and then I am taking my kitchen appliances and everything else with me!
But how do you move your things over seas? does U-Haul have boats?? Um... I don't think so... this was tricky for me to, but I finally found a place and it's not as expensive as you would think! (I hope, I don't think I will have to pay any tariffs or taxes when it gets to the UK) http://www.intlmovers.com/ this place will find companies who do moves in your area. I'm using a company called Echo Transworld Inc. To move my entire 2 bedroom apartment (I know my ENTIRE apartment [note sarcasm]) I am paying $3,004. It takes 5 weeks and they pick up your stuff, packing all your furniture in cardboard, and then deliver it to your door unpacking and setting up furniture that needs assembly.
Moving pets.
This part... I'm still searching. I have an East Asian Box turtle. I have had him for so long that he is now considered an endangered species. He wasn't when a friend purchased him at a pet store don't worry) I cannot simply release him into the wild, and I don't trust anyone I know to take good care of him. How in the world do I move an endangered reptile to Scotland? Well....I will let you know... the one company I have talked to gave me a quote of $3500, if it's even possible, so we'll see about that... let me know if you know how. I would love to keep my money, and my turtle!

A Few Things Are Different

In my two year relationship with Paul, we have spent approximately 8 months together. This is not a long time. By no means should anyone EVER take relationship advice from me!
However, in the 8 months that we have spent together, I feel as though if there truly is one person out there for everyone, Paul was the one person made for me.
When we are together, the best way to describe my life with him is all the time I spent as a child playing pretend with dolls, pretending I was a wife and mom, with an imaginary husband, and everything was perfect... that is how life is with Paul. All my childhood dreams come to life with one person.
A few things are different I suppose. When I was little, my husbands name was always Mark. I thought that was a very grown up husbandy name, and since I never had any boys to play house with me, my husband Mark was usually away at war... he also didn't have a Scottish accent... and we didn't live in Scotland...
It's fun for me to think of the differences in our cultures.
Upon meeting Paul's family for the first time I tried to google American vs Scottish cultural differences... ya know I didn't want to do something stupid and make his family think I was just some silly American that didn't belong with their son.
The only thing I found was that they never put their knife down when they eat. The cut with the right hand and eat with the left where as most Americans switch the fork back and forth between hands and put their knife on the edge of their plate when it's not in use. That didn't seem so bad...I can eat while holding my knife!
They speak English over there, but not like we do here.
For example:
Wee = Little or small
Tea = Dinner
Cuppa = Tea (I know its a little confusing...)
Que = Line
Road Works = Road Construction
Cheers = Thank you
Nappy= diaper
Pram=Stroller
Wibbley=Jell-o
Row=Yell
Cot=Crib
Bonnie=Pretty
Jab= Shots (immunizations)
Moterway =Interstate
"The Shops" = Store
Ta = Thank You
Shattered = really tired
knackered =  tired
poofy = gay
rubber = eraser
fizzy drink = pop
barens = kids
weeuns- babies
tattie= potato
filum=movie
Pavement = sidewalk
on offer = on sale
oven chips - oven french fries

Just to name a few... I typically find these words out as I misuse them, but it's hard to keep a lot of them straight... I never meant to insult Paul by telling him his hair was "poofy".
Some things I will definitely need to get use to...
* driving on the other side of the road....
* stores closing at 5 every day... except Thursdays where they are open until 8 I think
* 20% tax on goods
* buying gas by the liter
* No wal-mart
* no Taco Johns
* no McGriddles at McDonald's
* no Graham Crackers
* no Hazelnut coffee Creamer

I think I will be OK though! :D I will be with Paul <3

How Did I Get Here?

I am 27 years old, and at 19 I married my college boyfriend.  It was a bit of a whirlwind romance as we met the first day of school and married 10 months later. Unfortunately during the course of our six year marriage we were both very unhappy. I gained a large amount of weight, and went from a size 8 when we met to a size 24. When I discovered that medical problems associated with my weight gain had caused me to be unable to have children, I was determined to get back into shape. I worked out several hours a day, and exercised self control while eating and in 9 months lost 90 pounds.

As my weight went downhill, so did my marriage. My husband became very insecure and finally confided in me one day that he would intentionally sabotage any weight loss efforts I had because he knew I was out of his league but thought if I was fat, no one else would want me. In this confession, he accused me of being unfaithful, and admitted his own infidelity, hoping that his admission would force me to “come clean” and then we could be on “even playing fields.” I had not been unfaithful to my husband and his admission devastated me. I thought with time I could forgive him and we could move on, but in his guilt he became a new mean person trying to justify his unfaithfulness because I “got fat” and because I “wasn’t a good house keeper” or because I “didn’t finish college.” Exposing my biggest insecurities day after day became too much for me and we separated. A year later we divorced.

A few months after our separation, I had lost 128 pounds and I was happier than I had been in years. I decided to treat myself to a vacation to Germany to visit my sister. While there I wanted to see as much of the world as possible! I was ecstatic when my sister gifted me a ticket to Edinburgh for a week.

Upon my arrival in Scotland, I found myself growing incredibly depressed. The city of Edinburgh was so beautiful!

Every building looked like an enchanted castle made all the more mysterious by the beautiful mist that hung in the air each morning. I couldn’t believe that I didn’t have anyone to share this with; I went back to my hotel room at 5:30 that night and went to sleep thinking it was going to be a long, lonely week. I woke up the next day with new resolve and after a cup of coffee; I was ready to face the world!

 I booked myself the very last ticket on a tour bus to Loch Ness. I hurried to drink the last bit of my coffee before they would let me on the bus and that is when I met Paul. He's not the kind of guy I would have normally picked out of a crowd, but that is exactly what I did. I saw him amidst a group of people and found myself thinking "I hope he talks to me!" When he did, I was instantly turned into a silly 12 year old girl who couldn't stop giggling as we spoke. I don’t know what it was about him, but I found myself being more attracted to him than anyone I had ever seen before. When I got on the bus I looked for him but didn’t see him, so I sat down next to a woman from Germany and settled into my bus seat ready for a nap on the way. I was surprised then when I heard a voice come over the intercom talking about the history of Edinburgh, pointing out famous bridges, famous homes, historical battlefield sites… the hours flew by as this voice made History come alive!  From my seat I tried to see who was captivating me so, and I thought it was the bus driver; a bigger man is his late 50’s or early 60’s. I vowed that I would offer to buy him a drink at lunch and tell him how much I appreciated his stories. I was surprised then when I got off the bus for our first stop and saw Paul outside the bus answering question for people. I instantly recognized his voice as that of the tour guide.

When we arrived at Loch Ness I was disappointed to find that the tickets for the Loch Ness boat tour were sold out, Paul felt really bad about it and asked me if he wanted to see if there was a local boat that would take me out instead. I said thank you, but asked if he wouldn’t mind showing me around the banks of Loch Ness instead, in the city of Fort Augustus.  He seemed excited to do so and asked if I wanted to grab a drink first. We stopped in a local pub and ended up talking the entire two hours allotted at the Loch. Every stop after, lunch we were inseparable. I noticed when other girls would ask to get their picture taken he would stand politely next to them with his arms at his sides, but when he took pictures with me, he would put his arm around my waist, and it made me wonder if he was as in to me as I was into him.

When the tour was over and we exchanged email addresses I couldn't wait to get back to my hotel and email him.  We got together later that week for drinks.  Drinks turned into dinner, which turned into more drinks afterwards. I stayed out so late I ended up missing my shuttle back to my hotel, so Paul offered a cab as he was going in that direction anyway. The night ended with a kiss outside my hotel, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it for days.

 Upon my return to Germany, we continued emailing almost daily and talking on messenger. I've never really been one for these "internet relationships" but a good friendship was developing quickly this way. While in Germany my sister convinced me it would be fun for me to live there for a while, as we're very close, and with her husband deployed to Iraq, she welcomed the company. I got a job working with the department of defense, but I needed to return to the US to bring back more things as my visit had changed to me living there. A week before my return to the US, Paul came to Germany for a short visit.

While there I drug him around to different historical sites in Germany I had been anxious to see, one being a castle that was close by.

I realize castles probably aren’t a very big deal to anyone living in Europe as... well they are everywhere, but the US, being a fairly new country, doesn't have castles, so I find them beautiful, fascinating, exciting and definitely romantic. The day we visited Hohenzollern was absolutely beautiful! The sun was shining, the birds were singing...it was the kind of amazing day where magic happens and you find yourself falling in love. Paul's marriage had ended a little over a year ago, and with one year out of the way he only had 1 more to go before he was allowed to file for divorce in the UK. However, anyone who has been through a divorce knows that it’s not just a simple act of filing paper work; it feels almost like a death. It is in a way I suppose... the death of your marriage... and while you eventually get over the hurt of such a relationship ending, it makes you much more careful who you entrust your heart with in the future. Several weeks later on my return to Germany, I made a short pit stop in Scotland to visit Paul in honor of his mother’s birthday.

I had a wonderful time meeting his family and his incredible daughter who was seven at the time. Truth be told I probably have more in common with most 5 year old girls than people my own age. My favorite color is "sparkles", my favorite animal is a unicorn, and I don't care what anyone says, Hannah Montana Rocks! His daughter and I got along fabulously playing all sorts of pretend games about unicorns, coloring pictures,  

and singing and dancing to Hannah. The week I was there Paul told me for the first time that he loved me, that he had been in love with me since the day we had spent at Hohenzollern, but he wanted to be sure of his feelings before saying anything. He wanted to make sure he wasn't just caught up in the moment. Even with a huge smile on my face I felt tears blurring my vision because for the first time in my life, I felt like I was hearing those words from someone who TRULY meant them. We spent an amazing week together before I returned to Germany.  

I found I enjoyed my job, but my sister’s husband had returned from Iraq and the house was beginning to feel a bit small.  I also wanted to see where this new relationship would go, and I knew living in separate countries would not be conducive to a healthy relationship for long. Even so my relationship with Paul was growing stronger by the day even with the distance, and so we talked about the possibility of me coming to live in Scotland. I thought an Au Pair job would be perfect. It would provide me with a job, a place to live and a small income. When I tried to find out what the visa requirements were I read that as an American I could go into the UK on a six month tourist visa. Once I was there and had found a job I could apply from the UK for the correct type of working visa. I bought a plane ticket to Edinburgh planning to do a few interviews with some families. When asked at customs what I was going to be doing in Scotland I said " working." This was apparently the wrong answer as I could not produce a working visa. They denied me entrance and sent me back to Germany. I was completely devastated and horribly embarrassed. I hadn't tried to do anything wrong. After being denied entrance into the UK they now consider me an immigration risk, and every time I visit Paul I have to prove with return tickets, letters from my work, class schedules, an apartment lease, bank statements and other official paper work that proves I am not planning on living there or working there. On one such trip I returned back to Germany, to discover the exciting news that Paul and I were expecting a baby together!

We were both ecstatic and yet our news was quickly made bittersweet knowing the difficulty I would have even to go to Scotland for a short visit. With my travelers insurance not covering prenatal care I had to return to the US. Paul and I talked daily on Skype where I would show him my growing tummy and the baby book I worked on, and from six time zones away I kept him updated on all my prenatal checkups.

Technology is an amazing thing, but it's nothing to being able to hold Paul's hand during an ultra sound, or put his hand on my tummy to feel the baby kicking, to feel his arms around me when I worry after reading about some horrible thing that could go wrong during a pregnancy. It's nothing to being able to talk with him face to face, see him smile and laugh, or cuddle up next to him on the couch while he watches football.

I began to have some complications and 29 weeks into my pregnancy I was placed on 7 weeks of bed rest. It was an incredibly difficult time for me and going through it alone was devastating. Many nights were spent crying over my computer as I desperately searched for ways we could be together as a family. The obvious answer was for us to get married, but with Paul’s divorce taking so long, that wasn’t an option for us. We didn’t really know where to turn or what to do, and months of speaking to immigration lawyers had gotten us nowhere. In fact one such lawyer told us "I don't know what to tell you. Nothing like this has ever happened before." And with Paul's daughter in Scotland, there was no way he could move here.

In April our son Isaac was born. He was perfect and beautiful and loved by family all over the world, but I couldn’t help feeling horrible guilt every time I looked at his sweet face.

When Isaac was 6 weeks old we flew to Stuttgart Germany where Amy and Paul met us. Brother and sister got to meet each other for the first time. Amy was so excited to be a big sister!  Poor little guy had no idea he was born into a family where he wouldn’t get to see his dad or his sister much of the time, he would be going back and forth from America and Scotland with no place to really call home.

From Germany we flew to Scotland. Isaac and I were able to spend the whole summer there making friends and going places, but most importantly, spending time with Daddy, and Amy!

In November Paul came to South Dakota for a short visit, and a few weeks later I went out to Scotland for my Thanksgiving Vacation. Isaac stayed in Scotland with his dad for 3 weeks until I returned for Christmas Vacation.

Upon my arrival in Scotland Paul and Isaac were both feeling slightly under the weather, and I promptly caught their flu like symptoms. I felt nausiated 24 hours a day and was throwing up, but ironically food made me feel slightly better most of the time... and then sometimes the thought made me feel terrible.

While there, Paul took me out for a nice dinner at the restaurant he had taken me to on our first date. I tried to set aside my nausia and have a wonderful time. While being serendaded by two buzzcurs, Paul got down on his knee and asked me to be his wife. I of course said yes!

While buying some medication, the pharmacist informed me I shouldn't take the meds if I was pregnant. I told her I wasn't but would take the test just in case.

When I saw those two little lines appear on that pregnancy test, I panicked... So did my boyfriend. Just in case my daughter reads this blog one day, I'm not going to to into lots of detail of the shock we felt, but I will say that shock was felt for a little while, and now we're in less shock, and awaiting the birth of our little girl.

Soon I will begin packing my apartment, and I will make my move overseas... Beginning my new life with the love of my life. A few months after that We will be a family of five.

The last three years of my life have been out of control, and the most amazing I have lived so far. I have a feeling that they are going to grow even more amazing as I watch my children grow up, and as Paul and I grow old.

I don't know how I got here, but I'm glad I'm here. I wouldn't trade this place for anything.