When it all became real.

As October progresses, I have found myself thinking back on this time last year, in which I was 8 months pregnant, and coming up on one of the most difficult times in my life.  I remember trying to prepare mentally. I had become so attached to my baby, I loved her so much, and still do. I couldn't imagine giving her to someone else to raise, but I couldn't deny that I knew she didn't belong to me.
I had been speaking to Jared and Amy for months, and I finally told them I wanted to place my baby with them, but wanted to meet them in person first. So they got on an airplane, and came all the way from Idaho, just for a day, to meet me and Sunshine's birthfather, just two weeks before my due date.
We met in the morning at a little breakfast place called "Kozy Kitchen". It was sort of weird at first, I think we were all unsure of how to act. I had been emailing these people for months, I knew so much about them, but suddenly, they were real. And I was going to give my baby to them. We ate, and talked, and I really don't remember about what except our conversation about naming the baby. I told them that it was going to be their baby that they would live with everyday, so they could name her. But they said they didn't want to name her something I hated, because I would have to call her that too. They suggested a name- and could tell I was not a fan of it. Then the birthfather and I suggested the name that we had always liked, and Jared and Amy really liked it too. (Later they remembered that their friends had just named their baby that, so it ended up being her middle name.) Over the weeks, I contemplated the name Jared and Amy suggested, and by the time I had Sunshine, I loved it, and still do until this day. (Sunshine is not her real name, it's just what I call her on my blog because it's public.)
Anyways, after breakfast, we went over to the birthfather's house for them to have some time to get to know Jared and Amy. I'll be honest, this was probably one of the scariest parts of the day for me. While my family was very supportive of any decision I would have made, especially my decision to place, the birthfathers family was not. They weren't LDS and didn't have the same beliefs that were driving my decision. So they struggled with the idea of the adoption. I had been trying to defend the adoption to them throughout my whole pregnancy, but when I look back, it really helped me become stronger in my decision, constantly having someone questioning it. Every time I had to explain why I was doing this crazy thing, it reinforced that it was the right thing too.
Then in the late afternoon, we went back to my house to meet my parents. Jared and Amy clicked with my family immediately. There was just this mutual love for my baby and understanding of God and the gospel that seemed to bring us together. It has been wonderful to see how our families have come together, even after Sunshine's birth. It's like, all these people love this one little girl so very much, and have become like family because of it.
And then, I met Jared and Amy's son.
They had adopted him as an infant also, 3 years earlier. I seriously think he is what sold me on this family. He was the most adorable, wonderful, loving little boy ever, and I just HAD to have him as my baby girl's big brother. I could just imagine them a few years later, when some kid thought it would be funny to pick on Sunshine, and he would step in and make sure nobody touched his sister.
Later in the evening, everyone gathered at my house for hamburgers, and at one point, I was sitting next to Amy on the couch when the baby started kicking. While I was pregnant, it was ridiculously easy to see the baby move inside my stomach. It was visible from across the room, and almost freakish looking. Anyways, I pointed it out to Amy, and she was able to see her future daughter kicking inside my stomach.
Eventually the day had to end, and Jared and Amy and their son had to head back north, so we said our goodbyes. We even took pictures, which are among the very very few that exist of me pregnant (due to the fact that I kept it a secret from much of society, esp social networking sites, until after the adoption). So, I present to all of the birthmother blogging world, a photo of me, huge and 8 1/2 months pregnant! Also pictured is the birthfather on the left, and Jared and Amy and their son in the middle.

 

I look back on that day as a happy one. A stressful, long, emotional day for sure, but a happy one. Things started to fall into place, and the fact that I was placing my baby for adoption became real. I was terrified about what the next few weeks would hold, but I when I laid down to (kind of) sleep that night, I was completely sure that I had found the family that my baby belonged to.

Death.

I woke up this morning feeling kind of nostalgic and sad, and at first I wasn't sure why. Then I realized it was October 3rd, meaning it had been 3 months since Kelton died. It's been a wierd 3 months since he died, and I can't believe its only been 3 months because it feels like he has been gone for forever.

Before Kelton died, I always wondered why people got so upset about family and loved ones dying. I had never known anyone who died, and because I'm LDS, I always just thought, "It's no big deal, you will see them again, it's not like they are gone forever!".  Now I kick myself in the face for my insensitivity, because death is a complicated and frustrating part of life. Kelton's cousin told me he died shortly after it happened. He gave me him number via facebook, and I called and argued with him for five minutes about how him and Kelton needed to stop playing this joke on me, because it wasn't funny. By the time I started to believe him, I was crying so hard I could barely breathe. I couldn't understand how this had happened. Death had always been such a foreign idea to me. And now someone I was so close to had died. Unexpectedly.

One of the scariest parts for me was the randomness of it all. Things had been going really well for me at that point in my life- I had just moved to Provo, I lived near Kelton and Sunshine, I was going to go to BYU in the fall, I was getting all geared up for what I expected to be the time of my life. And then, out of nowhere, a stupid one-car accident, and the car flipped and fell in just the wrong way as to break Keltons neck and leave him dead.

Dead. But at that time, what did "dead" mean to me? I had never seen a dead person in real life. I had never been to a funeral. I had known a few old people who died, at church or a distant relative or something, but those deaths were expected. I had never been emotionally attached to those people or really associated with them for more than a minute or so.

That night, it was odd not having Kelton and I's nightly Skype session or phone call. But I was mostly in shock, and while I was upset, I was mostly scared, because I had no idea what the next few days would hold for me. His dad called me to make sure I had heard what happened and let me know he would update me on funeral stuff whenever he found out. I was terrified at the idea of the funeral. I didn't know what to expect, or who would be there, or how all that worked. Did I really want to go see his dead body?

In spite of all my fears, I made my way up to a city in Idaho where I had never been, and went to his funeral. I had been staying with Kelton's dad and family, and so I was early to the viewing on Friday night. I tried to not think about seeing his body, but I knew I needed to do it. As I walked tword the front of the empty room, I felt all the supressed emotions start to come to the surface, and when I got close enough to see his face, I broke down. That body, that the last time I had seen it was bright and alive, was now dull and lifeless. It didn't look like him, Kelton was so animated and expressive, it couldn't be him. It was shocking, realizing the difference that the spirit makes inside a body. The warm, happy, soft boy that I had joked, cuddled, laughed, and talked with, was laying there, missing the thing that made him Kelton.

So that's what physical death is. Where the body is no longer functioning. I know his spirit is out there, doing whatever it is that God is having his spirit do, and Kelton is just fine. But his physical death has stipulations for those of us still alive. Stipulations such as the fact that we can't communicate anymore, or touch, or do fun things together. And it sucks. People all say things like "Oh he is still looking out for you" or "He is there and you just can't see him", well guess what? It doesn't make it suck any less. It doesn't make it any less confusing for my heart or mind.

Kelton came and left so quickly, but he still left an impression. Sometimes I wonder why God would put someone in my life for such a short time, but then I remember all the lessons I've learned, both from Kelton's life and death. Like that an open-casket funeral is a ridiculous tradition, why the heck does anyone want to look at a dead body? And more seriously, to cherish the times you have with the people you love, because you never know when they'll be gone.

And, for those who don't know, Kelton was a pretty good guitar player. I don't know much about guitar, but I for sure can't play it. Also, the tshirt he is wearing in this video is the one he was wearing when we met. Ironic much?

The Problem (And Solution) of My Body

This following blog isn't going to be me begging for attention or reassurance of myself, I'm just approaching a very difficult subject for some women: our after-baby bodies. I know everybody has heard before the complaints about how modern culture puts so much emphasis on women being skinny and flat stomachs and blah blah blah. I don't really mind them. I have come to realize I rarely see a woman who looks like the girls in magazines, and I'm okay with that reality, and the reality that I will probably never look like those girls, so that doesn't bother me at all.

But I live in Provo, Utah, where the majority of females I associate with are normal college age women. And not that they are physically perfect or anything, but they are generally attractive girls, with normal body types. Like I said, not perfect, and everybody is a little different, but most of them have never grown a person inside their stomach. And so sometimes I worry about my body. I go to the pool, and I see other girls, and I notice that I have just a slightly different shape to my body. And sometimes I see one of my roommates stomach and remember that mine isn't smooth skin, I have stretch mark scars. And I see a girl in shorts, and remember that I have vericose veins on my legs and so I couldn't wear those shorts if I wanted to. Sometimes I am sad that now I have scars on my stomach, and vericose veins on my legs, and a little bit of a pudge on my belly that will never really go away.

I recently read an article about "What Postpartum Bellies Really Look Like", and it had some pictures women had submitted of their bellies at different times after having a baby. I was reminded that yes, other women have ugly stomachs too, and it's normal and okay. These ladies have some guts to show their stomachs on the internet, and sorry, you won't get a shot of mine, but it's the reality of what pregancy can do to a woman's body. Honestly, I look like any typical woman who has had a child, and compared to many of these, I'm actually doing really well!
(http://blogs.babble.com/babys-first-year-blog/2012/02/02/what-our-post-baby-bellies-really-look-like/)

But sometimes I worry about my future husband. Yes, I know that that guy I marry will love me no matter what, but I still am insecure about the fact that he isn't getting some pretty girl with a nice body. I feel like I am ripping him off or something. Like I said, I know that he will love me, and in the end my body doesn't matter, it would get all screwed up by kids anyways, but that doesn't keep insecurities from creeping into my mind. I just do my best to remember that I'm beautiful just the way I am, and if a guy doesn't agree, he isn't worth my time.

I can't be the first birthmom to worry about my body. Us birthmoms are put in a tight position, where we give up our pretty, youthful bodies for a child that we don't raise. It seems to other people like we go through all the suffering of pregnancy and childbirth, with nothing to show for it. Of course, we know better, because I would trade my body for Sunshine's happiness any day.

So, I'm learning to love my slightly distorted and scarred body. I like to think it tells part of my life story. My body will never let me forget what I went through for Sunshine, and I never want to. It's not perfect, and far from pretty, but it is beautiful in a corny, idealistic way. I think the scars feel kind of cool when I run my fingers over them, and I joke with my sisters that my loose skin feels like bread dough (though that is improving with time). I dress for my altered body type, and to be honest, I sometimes wear spandex to give the illusion of a more youthful silhouette. Also, I have a decently pretty face, so I like to think that it helps make up for the lesser attractive areas of my body. Most days I don't worry about my body too much, but there are those days where I just feel super disgusting and ugly, as all women do sometimes. And on those days, I just avoid the scale, eat a salad instead of ice cream, and look at pictures of my beautiful Sunshine. :)

LOOK AT THOSE CUTE TEETH!!!!!!!!!

Real Love. It's not what the movies say it is.

One time when I was like 11 years old my friend and I were supposed to go over to her aunts house to swim, well my friend got in trouble for something I don't remember, and we couldn't go. So I went home and cried because now I didn't know what to do that afternoon because my friend couldn't play with me and my dad told me "You just depend on her too much." and I asked him what he meant and he said that I needed to learn to have fun on my own too. For some reason this statement stuck in my head, and although I didn't do much about it then, I think about it often now. I don't want to be dependent on other people.

I've had a few relationships with guys where I was very dependent on them, especially emotionally. Those relationships always ended badly... I dated a guy for a year and a half, and didn't even want to be with him anymore for the last half of the relationship, but didn't know what I would do with myself if I didn't have him. It took him going away for a month for me to realize I would be just fine without him. I was still devastated by the break up and it was very emotionally tolling and complicated for me. I vowed to never have that kind of relationship ever again. The kind where I had to speak to them every second of every day, see them as often as possible, and constantly have them reinforcing my worth as a person. NEVER AGAIN.

So in my attempt to not have a clingy, dependent relationship, I found myself in a short series of very bad relationships, just this time, it was the opposite extreme. I refused to emotionally invest myself in any way whatsoever, but to try to make up for it, I gave them whatever I could physically and refused to commit. Most of these flings lasted only a few weeks, if that, and when it would go down the drain, I wouldn't even shed a tear. Every single one of them would go back to their clingy, annoying exgirlfriend that they always had complained about, which now I realize is because I wasn't giving them the emotional food they craved.

I have found myself on both extremes of the spectrum, and neither one is pleasant. So what is a good balance though? What is the difference between needing to be together every moment of every day, and just enjoying eachothers company? What causes a realtionship to be hurtful rather than helping? What is real love?

I think the world has the idea of love all wrong. There is this stereotype of love, that it is this romantic, desperate longing for someone, where all you do is think about them and want to be with them, and there is nothing more important than that person. The kind of love where people give up anything and everything just to be together. The whole "can't eat, can't sleep, reach for the stars, world series kind of stuff" (It Takes Two).

I am one of the few lucky kids these days who has parents who are still married, and they are a fantastic example to me of what real love is like. They aren't perfect, but they accept each other in their imperfectons and help build each other. I have never heard them have a yelling or screaming fight, yes I have heard them have disagreements, but they handle it like adults and talk it out and make compromises. They really love each other. They love to be together, and they love their family. They make each other so happy, but it isn't destructive.

Real love isn't needing somebody. But it is wanting somebody. You can go on with life without them, but if they are around, it makes it just that much better. It is caring about someone so much that you want to be better for them. They are your best friend, the person you turn to in challenges, and who you can be completely yourself around.

I've quoted Mrs. Snell before, and that time I was disagreeing with some of her comments, but this time I am going agree with her.  She has an article about Chemistry in a relationship. She talks about how in some relationships there are a lot of highs and lows, and the highs seem so much higher just because the lows are so low. In a good relationship there shouldn't be any extreme lows. Not that a relationship won't have its challenges, but there shouldn't be feelings of abandonment and rejection. A persons self worth should not be tied into the relationship.
(http://itsyourtechnique.com/2010/06/22/chemisty-what-is-it-how-do-i-recognize-it-and-how-important-is-it/)

Maybe I'm not one to say what real love is. I'm not married or in a relationship, or even close to being in one. But I have had my fair share of bad relationships and I've done plenty of observing. And I want to marry a guy that I love, but only if it's real love. The best friend, last forever, trusting and compromising kind of stuff.

"I'm still the same, not much has changed, I still know where I came from."

- A Day To Remember (Another Song About the Weekend)

Okay, so my adorable little Sunshine is getting bigger everyday!!! It still blows my mind that she is almost 10 months old! I feels like it has been so much longer since I had her... And good news, I have lost all the weight except like 5 lbs! I get to see her ever few weeks, at least once a month I go up there for Sunday evening dinner, or I stop by if I just happen to make my way up through Salt Lake.  I was at her family's house when I found out about Kelton, and I am insanely grateful to her parents for dealing with my mental self the day after.  I seriously could not have picked better people to be my little darlings parents! I hope her whole family knows how much I love and appreciate them!

Such a thoughtful little cutie!

I really miss being pregnant sometimes.  I was lucky that I had such an easy pregnancy, because it left a good taste in my mouth about the whole baby-growing ordeal.  The downside to this is that I wish I was pregnant alot, because I like having a sweet little baby all cuddled up and warm inside me.  It just made me happy.  But annoyingly enough, I still have just under 3 years left of college, and I don't want to stop halfway. 

And on the topic of college, I just started my first semester of Brigham Young University!!! Its crazy to think that I'm finally where I know I'm supposed to be. The summer before I got pregnant, my family and I travelled up to Montana to visit our extended family and we stopped in Salt Lake to visit all the historical things there.  I absolutely loved it, and although at the time I wanted to go to Montana for school, I secretly knew I needed to come to Utah.  But then, at one of the most critical times in life, I found myself pregnant, and my life was basically put on hold.

Although I still went to school and worked through my pregnancy, there were days when I thought I would never get anywhere in life.  There were days when I was so absolutely sure that I would never get out of San Angelo and that no decent man would ever love me again.  I thought I would be miserable forever.  In the ten months since I placed Sunshine, I have had all of these things proven wrong. God is awesome like that.

Now this summer has been very challenging. Between moving and trying to make new friends, Kelton dying, and all the stress of school and money, I would have to say it equals, if not surpasses, the summer I spent in Texas pregnant.  But with this new school year, I am realizing that everything I have been through the last two years has brought me to this exact place at this time for a reason.  Every time things get so difficult that I just want to give up, I remind myself that what I'm looking for is out there somewhere, and every day is just a moment closer to him.

DATING SUCKS.

So, as most of you know, I moved to Provo a few months ago. When I first moved here, I was in a semi-relationship with Kelton, and while I was definitely interested in dating, it wasn't much of a priority for me. I had Kelton and I didn't really mind if other guys weren't asking me out. Then Kelton died, and suddenly I had all this free time from when I used to be on the phone or Skyping or hanging out with him. And now, I really want to date.

But wanting to date is not enough, somehow I have to get guys to ASK me on dates. About a week ago, I went to an institute class where this dating coach lady, Alisa Goodwin Snell, came to speak. Now, she was a great speaker and everything she said made alot of sense, but it also reinforced that I absolutely suck at getting guys to like me. She had a whole list of what guys want/like when they meet a girl, which are listed here:

Acting cool, casual, indifferent, and flat in her body language (i.e. acting like a pal), tells a man she does not have faith in him or trust his ability to respect her feminine, vulnerable, or softer side.

Giving a man her number, calling him, or asking him out (without his pursuit of these things first) robs him of the challenge, sacrifice, and accomplishment that he needs to engage in if he is to value and appreciate her.

Refusing a man’s help not only tells him he is not needed or important, it also denies him the opportunity to experience her appreciation and to feel like a hero.

(http://itsyourtechnique.com/2011/02/17/7-signs-he-sees-you-as-a-pal-not-a-gal/)

All of which I pretty much do not do, or if I do, it is not frequently. That's just the way I am. I'm not super flirty or feminine acting. If I want a guy to text me and he hasn't asked, I give him my number, do with it what he pleases. And if I can do something, I will do it myself, the way I want it done. But, according to Alisa, these things turn off a guy because they don't make him feel masculine or needed.

But why should I go out of my way to make a guy like me? I'm not feminine and needy in relationships, so why should I act like I am? And why would I want a guy who needs me to reinforce his masculinity by acting feminine? I am comfortable with myself the way I am: pretty, smart, and capable. I've gone through an entire pregnancy without a male companion, I don't think there is much I need a guy for. But I want to get married and have kids someday, and disppointingly enough that requires a man. Also, I enjoy being in love, as long as it is a healthy sort of love.

My theory on all this is that the man I marry will love me the way I am. I don't think I should change the way I treat men, my future husband will recognize my indepenence and strength and not be threatened by it. So, while I may not get as many dates as a girl who is good at the above mentioned techniques for getting boys (which there is nothing wrong with), I will remain confident in the idea that the guy I will marry is out there and will find his way to me somehow. One of many times that Kelton and I were discussing love and relationships via Skype, he said to me "Well if he is the right one, he will wade through that river, scale that wall, and come to you." I've never forgotten that, because none of the other guys matter, except the right one.

Your smile fades in the summer.

DISCLAIMER(AGAIN): For those of you who don't known my blog very well, Kelton is NOT Sunshine's birthfather. Also, I think my blog has evolved from not only a birthmother blog, but just a blog about my life in general, though I do owe you an update on little Sunshine! :D
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I wrote the following few paragraphs just a few days before Kelton died.



"I've found myself at a crossroads. And it's one of those crossroads where either path will lead to happiness. I have to decide whether to keep a certain boy in my life. Whether to continue things on as they are, a sort-of kinda relationship, never committing, or to commit and marry him. Problem is, I feel it is a decison that is much larger than myself, because depending how I make this decision, I will effect not only myself but my future spouse and children. I dont think that staying with Kelton would make my life miserable, I could be very happy with him, I just think I might be happier with somebody else. Maybe there is someone out there better for me. And someone out there that is better for him.
My dad gave me a blessing once, and he said in it that my eternal companion was out there looking for me, and I think he meant it literally, that right at this moment he is searching for me. I feel like I am supposed to find him soon, but my stubborn self is not in the right place yet. I have this urgency in my heart, like I need to put myself in a position where I am ready to be who I am supposed to be for him.

But what if I am wrong? What if I give up Kelton, someone who means so much to me, and I still have to wait around for a few years? I don't want to. I can't do it for that long."


So many people have asked me since he died if I had been planning to marry him. From the beginning, many of my friends told me they thought I would marry him, and I know his family wanted us to, even though they had never met me. They just said that he changed after he met me, and all they really cared about was that he was happier than he had ever been in his life. But for some reason neither of us felt right about being in a "real relationship". We were never fully committed to eachother and we were okay with that, but most people around us didn't understand it, especially when we had such obviously strong feelings for eachother. And looking back now, I understand why we felt that way, although we couldnt explain it.

We talked about marriage alot, especially in the few weeks before his death. We knew it had come to the point where we either had to be together for real, or break off the way things were. We loved eachother, it was undeniable, but we also knew that we both had alot to do with our lives before we were prepared for marriage. In some wierd way, I knew I wouldn't always have him. I just didn't think it would be his death that would remove him from my life. I thought it would be on my terms.

In some ways, I'm happy there wasn't a nasty difficult breakup with drama and hard feelings left over. But on the other hand, it's significantly more difficult to get over someone who never hurt you. I have literally no bad memories of Kelton. No bitterness that I can utilize to remind myself why I don't have him in my life anymore. I just have all the wonderful times that I miss so badly. And with a breakup, I could still talk to whatever jerkface it was, but in this situation... he's just gone. Completely. And my heart is having a hard time comprehending why someone so close to it just up and disappeared.

I'm feeling the healing happening. I know because sometimes I'm really sad and I cry. Or I will get so angry at Kelton for driving like an idiot and getting himself killed. Or I can be totally okay with it all and return to normal life. And because I have experienced loss before, I know that I prefer to deal with it alone, I like to stay very busy, and that I do something dramatic with my hair. All of which have occurred in the last few weeks.

I started writing out our story. I tried to write down every memory I had of him, in order. But the hardest part to write was the funeral,  because once I got past writing about his death, I didn't want to write anymore.  I felt like everything that really mattered had been said.
The funeral was the easy part of all this. The hard part was going back to real life again- walking into my apartment and putting my things down and realizing I had to go on with life again, as if he hadn't died. And so I do. I continue on with life, missing my best friend everyday. I always just remind myself that there has to be someone else out there for me, someone equally as awesome, because I knew from the beginning he wasn't mine to keep. But there will never be another Kelton Zundel.