kallie jean

I always told everyone I wanted 12 children. I first thought I'd want 12 children after reading Cheaper by the Dozen (yes there's a book and yes it's so much better than the Steve Martin/Bonnie Hunt movie version). The longer it took to get married, the more unrealistic 12 children became. Ok let’s be honest, 12 children may have always been a bit unrealistic, getting married at 32 just made it more obvious. Of course now we’re less than a month from our fifth anniversary and we have three. Six years ago I was living in Maryland and I wasn’t even sure Steve and I could date.

After having two kids we talked a lot about number three. My doctor has assured me that while my pregnancy was considered geriatric.. women much older than me have children. And yet every pregnancy has made me feel more geriatric. We found out in November that Kallie was a girl. Steve was adorably thrilled. I was a bit more apprehensive.. partially because I was dreading all the pink, frilly, glitter harassment from friends and fam.. and partially because I was nervous about learning how to be a girl mom.

I was due May 2, but my history of c-sections meant we were able to schedule Kallie’s arrival at 39 weeks on Saturday, April 25. After having Lucas in the heart of flu season and dealing with hospital visitor restrictions (no one under 12), we were praying restrictions would be lifted by April. Meanwhile, COVID-19 started making interrupting things in March. Before we knew it the hospital was eliminating all visitors with a few exceptions. Thankfully, labor and delivery patients were allowed one visitor, but once you leave you can’t come back.

My parents came down to watch the boys.. essential travel in the middle of a stay at home order. With Lucas, Britt went to daycare and my parents came to the hospital. Having a baby on a Saturday, in a pandemic, with no daycare, and no other visitors made my parents heroes for taking care of the boys. Steve and I arrived Saturday morning and had to wait to check in, but our awesome nurse Dominique came and brought us to a room to prep. My favorite anesthesiologist, Vicki, found us. My doctor reviewed everything and then eventually I went to the operating room while Steve had to go to the waiting room. I always tell people the weirdest things about a scheduled c-section (especially after the first wasn’t scheduled) is walking into the operating room and hopping up on the table. Vicki gave me the cocktail of the day and I got a catheter but I started to feel nauseous and so uncomfortable. Thankfully, we adjusted (or I got used to it?) and settled in. Steve arrived and took his place by my head. Vicki is so kind to talk me through everything. There was a ton of pressure as they pulled Kallie out and then I could relax once I heard her crying. When she came out people remarked about how big she looked, but she’s actually our smallest baby. The NICU doctor took what felt like forever to evaluate her, but Steve told me she had pooped on them and we found out she swallowed a bunch of secretions on her way out so they had to suction her out a bunch. Thankfully we haven’t seen any issues since.

Eventually, Steve got to hold Kallie and bring her over to me. In that moment, there is so much love and so much relief. She was here. She was healthy. I felt safe. There has been so much anxiety in the world around COVID-19.. people anxious about germs.. anxious about the economy.. anxious about their jobs and bills.. anxious about being alone or anxious about being stuck in close quarters with the wrong people or just too many people. But on Saturday morning just before 10 am, it all went away for a brief moment. And then we went right back to that underlying anxiety of a parent trying to provide all the things for this tiny human.

The only other side effect from the pandemic was that Steve had to go back to the waiting room when I went to recovery. It sucked, but we were so thankful he could be there at all that it wasn’t worth dwelling on. Recovery took forever while we waited on a room and I was exhausted, but at some point that afternoon we had a room!

We spent the next 44ish hours in room 45 in and out of sleep, feedings, and delirium. We were blessed with awesome hospital nurses and staff, but were more than ready to come home Monday morning.

Please excuse my ramble but I want to remember what last Saturday felt like. Kallie Jean, I love you. I pray you’ll always know that. I pray that you’ll know God’s love for you and put your faith in Him first. I pray you become a strong, secure, Christ follower. Let’s do this!

it's not time yet...

Nine days ago I sat in our University bookstore and watched our pending graduates go through the process of ordering their caps and gowns. I certainly don't know as many students as I did when I worked in athletics, but I've still been fortunate enough to get to know a bunch of these seniors. Some of them have had dinner in my home or even taken care of my kiddos. I went to their games, I've written letters of recommendation for them, I've listened to their friend problems, and I generally tried to encourage them as they tackled the adventure that we like to call the "best four years of your life."

Nine days ago, people were getting anxious about COVID-19 in the United States, but it still felt a little premature. One of the graduates mentioned she was worried about graduation and I really hadn't even thought about not having graduation. The next day the NCAA canceled winter and spring championships and it felt so premature. I can't imagine what that felt like for all of those student-athletes. There were literally games in progress that everyone just walked away from... some of those student-athletes will never play their sport competitively again. Following the NCAA announcement, conferences across the country made the difficult decision to cancel spring competition. Everyone knows it was necessary, but it doesn't make it any less painful. There are student-athletes who were just shy of breaking a record. There are student-athletes who had high hopes for a Cinderella season. There are student-athletes who were dreaming of a winning season. And it's gone. My heart aches for the unfinished seasons... the unfinished dreams.

One of the more frustrating parts of this is the idea that people think the NCAA granting another year of eligibility will make everything better. Maybe that works in Division I or even Division II, particularly for scholarship student-athletes, but how many Division III student-athletes are going to come back for another year or even take off a semester and come back in the spring to finish their careers? TCNJ women's lacrosse senior may have summarized it best when she was quoted as saying, "We're not going to come back, we just can't afford to do that. A lot of us have already planned our future. We have jobs, we're moving away, whatever the case is. It's good in theory that they are giving more eligibility but it's just not an option in Division III for us.”

Again, not the NCAA's fault let alone is there any conference or institution to blame, but it just sucks and there's no bandaid to make it all better. Someday I hope we can look back and say it was all worth it. It wasn't easy last week and I'm not sure it was any easier this week, but I hope they can mourn the loss, find closure and still look back fondly on all that they accomplished as a collegiate athlete.

This week we joined a number of other Universities and made another difficult decision to cancel graduation. I know there are so many graduates who are still mourning that loss. They have worked so hard and spent a lot of money to be able to earn that opportunity. Thankfully, we have an opportunity for them to celebrate in December during our Winter Commencement, but I know that doesn't all of a sudden make it all better. I am praying that our spring grads will return to celebrate with us in December. They earned it.

I want to be able to fix this, but I think this one is beyond my area of expertise. I'm praying for all of those impacted by the pandemic no matter how trivial your impact may seem.

madi and pilot pete

There are so many important things going on in the world right now like coronavirus and a messy election, but what brings me out of my blogging coma.. the Bachelor. It's a joke to most educated, responsible people, but it has been a guilty pleasure of mine for at least the last 15 years. Most of the time it captures my attention to escape in the drama knowing "at least things aren't that bad for me." Sometimes I get caught up analyzing the way people connect (or don't) and sometimes I'm just a sucker for a good love story.

This season has been a mess. The Bachelor, Peter Weber, finished third on Hannah Brown's season of The Bachelorette, and all season long they've teased us with possible outcomes to the show that might have included Hannah B or a producer let alone any of the actual women on his season of the show. Madi Prewitt was a frontrunner this season from the beginning. She had the first one-on-one date and Peter took her to his parents' vow renewal. She stayed out of the drama with the other women on the show and seemed to be a steady constant for Peter. And then... they got to the final three which traditionally means fantasy suites which traditionally means sex.

Timeout for more background/history of the show: While many viewers and "contestants" assume sex and think everyone should expect and accept sex, it has not been a given. Nick Viall has been open about only sleeping with one woman, Hannah Brown was open about not wanting to sleep with one of her guys and Sean Lowe said in his book that he didn't sleep with any of his final three. Nearly all (if not all) leads (the bachelor or bachelorette) acknowledge the most important thing about the fantasy suite is time with each of the final three without cameras.

Essentially Madi told Peter (in not so clear terms initially) that she would have a hard time moving forward with him if he slept with the other two contestants. Some people felt like that wasn't fair of her to expect that of him. She made it the most clear to me when she asked how she was supposed to accept a proposal six days after he slept with someone else. I don't think she was slut shaming him or forcing her beliefs on him as much as she was sharing where she was in their relationship despite the fact that he was still in relationships with two other women.

Fast forward to the final two. Madi gets some grief for accepting a rose after Peter was honest with her about being "intimate" with the other two women. Did she go back on her word? Did she compromise her beliefs? I think she was still processing and needed more time. The tradition of final two is to meet the lead's family. Madi went second and she and Peter had a long conversation outside (that evidently annoyed Peter's family) while they tried to resolve some of their fantasy suite issues. While sometimes painfully drug out, I thought it was refreshing to see a couple work through conflict and while they hadn't solved all of their problems, they seemed adorably in love. Peter's family wasn't so convinced and really put them through the ringer with questions.

Presumably the next day, Peter and Madi have their final date before he has to choose. She is visibly struggling during a helicopter ride and then once they reach the perfect remote spot to chat on a blanket, she ends things with him. This is the part that really hit home for me. I have had multiple conversations with guys I loved (or thought I did) trying to break up with them knowing my faith didn't align with their faith and our lifestyles were too different. I know there are couples who have found a way to make it work, but I spent a lot of time in prior relationships trying to lessen my faith to make a relationship work... especially when everything else was working great. Looking back I know everything else wasn't working great and I shouldn't have to lessen any part of me to make a relationship work, but I feel like I've been in Madi's shoes (minus the whole tv show thing) and I felt for her as she struggled through that conversation and had to walk away.

Fast forward to the finale and Peter ended his engagement and Chris Harrison filled in Madi. Madi admitted she wasn't over Peter and flew out to LA to confess her feelings for him. It seemed like a happy reunion, but they had an uphill battle ahead. On stage, there was still a lot of uncertainty and they seemed a little distant. Peter's family was not supportive (to say the least) and there was a part of me that wanted them to make it to spite his family. I kept hoping Peter would come to his senses and find his own passion for faith like Madi, but that was not to be as a few days later they announced they were going their separate ways.

Why do I feel the need to recap the last couple of weeks of The Bachelor when you could have just watched it yourself or read your own recap on any number of websites? I'm not exactly sure, other than it was so eerily familiar while still feeling like a lifetime ago. I'm so grateful for God's steadfastness to help me walk away from those relationships... sometimes with some help from the guy... so that I could sit here years later with an amazing husband and (almost) three (usually) adorable kiddos. It doesn't always feel worth it in the moment, but it really is.

*Clarifying to say not every prior relationship falls into this category. I certainly tried the alternative thinking if I just found a Godly man, that God would bless that relationship and that certainly doesn't always work either!

february 22...

A year ago I was sleeping.. or attempting to sleep in a hospital room. Lucas Barrett was just over 12 hours old and even though it was my second son, I was just as overwhelmed and just as in love. The worst part was not getting to share everything with Britt since he couldn’t come to the hospital during flu season. 

My c-section was much different this time around. Britt came after more than 24 hours of contractions and two hours of pushing. I was wheeled into the operating room on a bed and tossed onto the operating table. This time I walked in and plopped myself onto the table. It was so surreal that I had been there (or an operating room nearby) less than two years earlier and everything felt so different. I was so grateful to have my favorite anesthesiologist to talk me through the surgery. Of course she told me they made the incision and Steve wasn’t in the room yet. I wasn’t worried about him missing anything as much as I worried he would see more than he wanted to walking into the room. After Lucas was born, it felt like forever to hear him cry and then it felt like forever for him to stop crying. Steve told me a friend from church was in the room and I just knew her as a nice doctor.. leaving me terrified something was wrong. Thankfully she checked everything and he was healthy... a healthy 8 lbs 8 oz for being born six days early. 

I still had insecurities with Lucas and I still fumbled my way through or rather active tense fumbling. It absolutely gets easier the second time around when you know a little more what to expect, but you also really forget things.. even if you just did it two years ago. 

I am so proud of us for getting through the last year. Two boys two and under is not easy, but so worth it. 

at the wire...

It's been far... far... too long, but I just realized I almost let 2018 go without a blog. While that probably explains a lot about the year, I had to say something. I'm stealing a post from Jen Hatmaker's instagram today. We had some lows this year for sure, but here are some highs... 

1. Best thing that happened this year: 

We stuck together. When things get tough, it's easy to run, but we stuck together. Steve and I didn't have a ton of time together pre-wedding to work through conflict or practice working together so it's definitely been a "learn as you go" experience. We're still learning, but every time we get a little better, I'm so grateful. 

2. Best person you met this year: 

Lucas Barrett. Lucas was born February 22 and we've spent the last 10 months just soaking up every minute with him. He has been our inquisitive one. We have to work a lot harder to get him to smile, but when he starts to cackle, it's that much more worth it. Lucas was such a low maintenance baby and it was like he knew he needed to cut us some slack so we could spend more time with Britt. 

3. Best thing you pulled off this year: 

Others may disagree, but somehow I balanced the whole "working mom" thing. It's far from perfect, but I pulled it off. 

a working mom...

Britt is great at alumni affairs

I'm not sure I really comprehended the guilt moms face until I became one. I feel like I spent plenty of time around moms beforehand and I knew about all the debates between natural birth vs. everything else and breastfeeding vs. formula and disposable diapers vs. cloth and chemicals vs. natural. I felt like I had done my research and made some decisions while deciding to play the others by ear. Social media allows people to share their opinion freely so you can usually tell where people fit in the debates. Even if they're not posting their opinion directly, they're sharing others' opinions or at least liking others' posts about it.

I know I didn't prepare myself for the shame that can tie itself to the guilt. I nursed Britt exclusively at first. I felt like that's all I did and at eight weeks and after way too many weight checks, he was still not gaining weight like he should so our pediatrician suggested supplementing. She said I took it better than she thought I would, but there was such relief to have a medical professional tell me Britt needed formula. Surely no one could look down on me for giving Britt formula if my doctor told me I had to! There was still a part of me that wanted a doctor's note or something as I hid the formula when we were out in public.. hoping people would think it was some of my milk in the bottle.

I never thought I would care about the stay at home vs. working mom debate. My best friend is a stay at home mom while my mom and sisters are working moms. I've just never seen myself as a stay at home mom... even when I dreamt of having 12 kids. In reality, it's unlikely anyone can have 12 kids and afford the childcare, but I've always assumed I would work. And then people started asking questions. Are you going back to work? How long is your maternity leave? You're going back already? Who is taking care of Britt? You're taking him to a daycare? Most of it was probably innocent and not nearly as judgy as it sounded in my whacked out postpartum hormone head, but I started feeling guilty.

I went back to work "part-time" when Britt was just over six weeks old. My boss was so flexible and offered to let me stay home longer and I burst into tears at the thought of it. I needed to come back to work, and yet I felt so guilty for wanting to work. I didn't have enough sick time or vacation time to get all six weeks paid leave. Thankfully I had short-term disability to help make up some of the difference and I used financial need to justify my quick return, but in reality I needed an outlet. I think I'm a better mom when I go to work, and yet I hate when I miss things because I "have" to work. I'm fortunate to have a job where I can bring Britt to some of our events. He has traveled to Orlando and Nashville for work and I've had college students babysit him while I run to a meeting real quick or try to pull off a successful event. There is a sense of relief when I drop off Britt at daycare and I have even more relief when I get home from work and I get to see his smile when I walk in the door. I have to remind myself that I can love Britt and still enjoy work.

I keep telling myself that being a working mom is making him more adaptable... that daycare is making his immune system stronger... that he has good social skills, but I never want to take away from the moms who stay at home. Sometimes we try to make ourselves feel better and end up making other people feel like crap... unintentionally of course. My justification could come off as if my son of a working mom will be smarter or more socialized than the son of a stay at home mom. Or maybe your son of a stay at home mom will be smarter because you never left his side and taught him how to read at nine months. Maybe we just need thicker skin... or less guilt.

Dear Britt...

Dear Britt,

Your dad and I had a dedication for you at church this morning. Some babies are baptized, but your dad and I don't believe that baptism really does anything for you as a baby. (Even as an adult, it's a symbol and one we both took part in, but it didn't save us.) Instead of a baptism this morning, we had a time where we dedicated ourselves and our home to God. We prayed that we could nurture and love you toward making your own decision to follow Christ someday. The church committed to supporting us along the way. If you're reading this, I hope it means you have found your way to Him.

I've been praying for you for a long time.. before you were even born. I've prayed you would be healthy and kind and maybe a little athletic.. but even more so I've prayed you would see how much you need God. Sometimes it's hard for "good" people to understand why they need God. And sometimes when you grow up in church, it becomes more of a habit or even something that your family does, but I'm praying you find a faith that is all your own.

No matter what, please know you are loved and I am so proud of you. Choosing Christ.. choosing life.. it's not always the most popular thing or the easiest thing, but it's what I want most for you. Even thinking about our time this morning praying for you, I tear up thinking about what hard decisions you may have to make and I wish I could always be there to protect you, but I can't. You'll grow up and mature and probably push and pull a little to do more on your own before I'm ready but I promise I'll try. I'll try to find that balance between what you want and what you need.. the balance between what I want and what you need.

You have brought so much joy into our lives and it's only been six months. I can't wait to watch you grow up and I just feel privileged to know I'm your mom. Your dad and I are praying for you Britt... every day.

Love,
Mom

welcome Britt..

There's no way to predict how labor and delivery will go and I'm so glad I didn't even try. There are some women who go to the hospital with a pretty detailed birth plan. I went empty handed just hoping to leave with a baby. As much of a planner I am, I tried not to plan too much throughout my pregnancy.

Britt was due Monday, the 21st, but I went to work with no signs of the stubborn bugger. I went to the doctor the next day and after scheduling an induction for the 28th-29th, I marched 20 flights of stairs to help push things along, wrote a blog, and then resigned myself to having a baby on the 29th. My parents decided to still come down the next day and my aunt and little sister were coming down for Easter weekend so I was more worried about entertaining guests and seeing everyone. 

Of course as soon as I let go of the due date, I woke up Wednesday morning with contractions. I tried to wait them out for awhile before waking up Steve. They were about 5-7 minutes apart, but still not very consistent. Steve was not too concerned since the doctor talked about going to the hospital at five minutes, and he thought we were waiting for them to be five minutes long! Thank goodness that's something we don't have to worry about! 

Steve went ahead and got ready for work, but decided not to go just yet. I wanted to call the doctor at 8 and see if we could go in and at least get checked. At 8 they were still inconsistent so we went for a walk. We eventually went to the doctor and he said I was only at 2-3 centimeters, so he did a membrane sweep and sent us on our way. I was optimistic that might get things moving so we went to the mall for lunch and walked some more. We gave up after awhile and went home to wait for my parents to get here. My mom and I went for a walk and then they took us to dinner at Outback. I could feel the contractions getting more intense and by 8:30 I was convinced I had to be more dilated... they were consistently 3-5 minutes apart. I called the doctor's office and they had my doctor call me, but knowing this was my first he encouraged me to stay home for at least another hour. I didn't know if I could make it that long, but we left around 9:30 and made our way to the hospital... only to find out I was still only 2-3 centimeters. I had no desire to go home and thankfully they told me they'd hold a bed for me if I would walk the hospital for two hours. So for two hours Steve and I wasn't walking through them, but really exhaustion was the overwhelming feeling. I had been awake since 4 am so walking from 11 pm to 1 am was not exactly what I wanted to be doing. 

They checked me again and even though I was barely at 4 cm, if that, they said they'd admit me and I could've cried from relief. They eventually gave me some pain medicine. I tried sleeping between contractions, but evidently I wasn't very pleasant. At some point they gave me pitocin and an epidural and Steve claims my demeanor changed immediately. I am now a huge fan of epidurals. I know many women survived childbirth without epidurals, but now that we have such fine drugs, I have no desire to be a hero. Drugs to the rescue. 

Finally somewhere around 10 am or so, I reached 10 cm and got to push. I pushed for an hour and I could tell from the look on my nurse's face that we weren't making much progress. They gave me a break and the doctor suggested drawing back the epidural some so I could feel the contractions. The anesthesiologist came in and thankfully I knew her from working on the Play 4Kay committee at Methodist. She made a comment about doctors who want her to draw the drugs back and then they decide to go with a c-section and she has to give more drugs, but "don't worry that won't happen to you!" When she left I told Steve that made me a little nervous and he agreed. Everyone came back in and we started the pushing process again. They could see Britt's head and let us know he had a ton of hair, but he was still not making his entrance. After the second hour, my doctor said I could push for another hour, but he really felt like we were dealing with a big kid and wasn't convinced he was going to budge so he gave me the option of a c-section. 

After laboring for more than 30 hours, I was grateful for him giving me the option. I asked Steve if he cared and then told the doctor to sign me up for the c-section. I know there are some people who criticize c-sections for not being "real" birth... especially since mine was elective even if the doctor suggested it. But I couldn't disagree more... I still feel a bit of a twinge any time someone hears I delivered via c-section and they give me the judgy look. Especially when I tell them the doctor felt he was too big and then I tell them he weighed 9 lb 1 oz and they make sure to let me know they birthed an 11 pound baby vaginally without an epidural. And then I remind myself to get a grip and not let others decide how I should feel about my birthing experience. 

Back to Britt... once we opted for the c-section, things moved quickly. Someone took Steve to get him ready and they wheeled me to the operating room. (By the way... moving me from one bed to the other with my dead legs was very comical!) They warned me I might puke and I absolutely yakked all over myself... it was glamorous and I'm just sorry Steve missed it. Once everyone made it to the operating room, I tried not to pay attention to what was happening behind the curtain. I eventually heard someone say something about a boy and then I heard Britt cry. It was the most beautiful cry I've ever heard. It is hard to feel so helpless while your baby is crying and you're tied to an operating table, but they cleaned him up and gave him to Steve so he could bring him to me. I couldn't hold him, but we had some cheek to cheek bonding. I hadn't cried all day, but knowing he was finally here made me weep.

It's hard to put into words what it's like to meet your child. There's so much anticipation... years and years of waiting not to mention the 40 plus weeks of pregnancy. There are so many children born every day, sometimes we blow past the miracle of life, but I had to pause and think about this kid (that I would eventually get to hold in recovery) that was the perfect combination of me and Steve and had grown inside my body... Every time I hold him to my chest, Steve and I look at how long he is and can't get over the fact that he was all balled up inside of me.

I don't think birthing a child makes a woman any more woman than she already was, but it has made me more grateful to be a woman. I'm more appreciative of my mom popping out my 9 lb 6 oz self like a boss. I'm more in awe of how God uses us to multiply His creation. I'm more in love with my husband who continues to spoil me while being the best dad to Britt. I know Britt will continue to challenge us, but I hope the challenges keep us chasing after God, bringing us closer to each other.

P.S. I've had a few people ask us about Britt's name. The Dockery family has a tradition of using Steve/Steven and the mother's maiden name. Steve is Steven Barrett and Britt is Steven Britt. I wanted to avoid the confusion of two Steve's so we call him Britt although I still get confused when we get mail for Steven B. Dockery. 

worth the wait...

Many of the best things in life are worth the wait. When I take a look at my life from 30,000 feet, I've had it good. Sure, I may not have wanted to wait until 32 to get married or have to move back in with my parents three different times after college... but those things are all tiny periods of waiting in the big scheme of things.

Pregnancy has been another big lesson in waiting. Some people wait years just to get pregnant, while the pregnancy itself sometimes feels like years! When I got pregnant, Steve and I decided not to find out the baby's gender. Sure, the OCD planner in me would love to know every detail about this kid way in advance, but I convinced Steve that we were about to lose complete control and I needed some practice letting go. Since finding out we were pregnant a little more than eight months ago, I haven't really stressed about the gender. Everyone wants to know what I think and I honestly haven't thought about it. I'm preparing myself for a girl, because I think a girl will be a bigger challenge for me, but I know I will be head over heels for Baby D, boy or girl.

As our due date approached, I was getting more excited to meet this kid. Work was slightly stressful trying to prepare to be gone for an extended period of time, but we've been ready at the house for awhile. Everyone tells you to be ready early, but I felt like it was one of those things where if you bring your umbrella, it won't rain. So yesterday, our due date came and went with little fanfare.

I've struggled with the lack of control over Baby D's arrival more than the gender. I like being on time... I like other people being on time and Baby D is already paving his/her own way... which sounds like my kid! Thankfully, my doctor went ahead and scheduled an induction so we have a final eviction notice. Of course I'd love to meet Baby D earlier, but worst case scenario we're planning on welcoming him/her a week from today... one more week.

Sometimes it seems like forever... and other times it feels like it's so close. Until then I'll be avoiding everyone's comments about how I'm STILL pregnant and advice about how to induce labor. I don't really like pineapple, I'm afraid to do jumping jacks at this size without breaking anything, and I have no desire to try castor oil. I'll try hard not to complain (or only complain to Steve) and just look forward to Tuesday... or any time before hint hint Baby D!! Either way, I'm confident this kid will be worth the wait!

my dreams vs. His

I look back at the last two years and it's hard to believe how much has changed. I can't imagine how much is going to change in the next two years. Steve and I have big dreams, but they're still evolving and changing on a daily basis. I don't always trust my dreams, but I always want to make sure they line up with God's will for my life. Now it's even a bigger deal when my dreams affect multiple people.

It's no secret that Steve and I have dreams of moving. We change our mind every day about where we might actually move, but we have agreed we don't see our current house as our forever house. Our dream home is a steal of a foreclosure with some land. A couple of months ago we found one. We told a few people and we showed photos and I started to let myself think we might actually be able to buy it. Of course one of the obstacles between us and this sweet foreclosure was the fact that we actually already own a home have a mortgage. So we met with a realtor and talked about trying to sell our house. And then we remembered I'm pregnant and trying to sell a house while pregnant and/or taking care of a newborn sounds miserable. Steve and I agreed to wait and always pray that God would open the doors that we needed to walk through (literally and figuratively).

One weekend we thought we had an interested buyer for our house and I went through a cleaning frenzy... until they changed their mind and forgot to tell us. Meanwhile the foreclosure kept coming and going off of zillow. On Wednesday I asked Steve if we could at least go look at it. We saw it and of course it just made me want it more. I was getting a little excited again... until we got home.

Steve called the realtor and he said the previous owners went through a debt consolidation and were going to close on it today. Ouch. It's not often you think about the previous owners of a house or how they might be affected, but sometimes foreclosures smack you in the face. I have no idea what the circumstances were that led to the foreclosure, but it is something that happens more and more. My house prayers are usually self-centered, but I was quickly reminded of all the others who might be affected by my dream for this house. I still love the house and I still pray that we'll have a chance to find a house for us... but I'm also praying for the family who I imagine reclaimed their house today. I'm imagining they have children and praying for their transitions out of, and back into their house. I'm praying the debt consolidation was a good decision for them and they find a way to keep their heads above water. I'm also praying that we remember this whenever we do buy another house... That we don't try to live above our means... That we make smart financial decisions and work hard to avoid the worst-case scenarios... That my dreams match up with His will for our lives.

Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way walk in it." Isaiah 30:21

my uncle...

I always felt like I grew up going to funerals. The first one I remember was my Aunt Donna's in 1991. Two years later both of my mom's parents passed away and I felt like I was becoming a pro. I've been grandparent-less since college and went to most of my great aunts' and uncles' funerals not to mention some cousins, friends, friends' family members, teachers... the list goes on and on. And yet it doesn't seem to get easier.

Sure I usually know what to expect. And I usually find some closure, but there's usually a guarantee I'll leave dehydrated from the gallons of tears I shed.

My uncle has been sick for awhile now. At first it didn't seem like a big deal. Most people wouldn't even know it as he was still playing softball and golf and chasing his grandkids around. When I was a kid, I loved to challenge Uncle Woody and my cousin Brian in a quiz game on my "computer." He's so smart and I loved to try to stump him. Every Christmas he handed out Pez dispensers and he had some crazy organizational "quirks" that our family may say I shared with him. Robin blames it on the July birthday thing, but either way I embraced it.

Living in Fayetteville off and on for 10 of the last 16 years while Robin lived here always helped me see Aunt Sharon and Uncle Woody more. When I moved to White Marsh in 2014, I always said I wanted to see them more. In Oct. 2014, Steve and I were talking about engagement, but I had no idea how close it was. He came up to visit and I was adamant that he needed to meet Aunt Sharon and Uncle Woody. I didn't necessarily need their stamp of approval, but I wanted them to be a part of the process before it was official. We made plans to go to dinner one Friday after Steve made the drive up, but of course that would be the weekend he got stuck in some major traffic. We were running late, but I insisted we still go. After dinner I got annoyed because Steve pretended to act like he hadn't even asked my parents' permission to marry me yet and I didn't want to know that and I couldn't imagine how the timing was going to work out. Aunt Sharon and Uncle Woody didn't say a word, but they assured me they liked him.

Fast forward a week later... Steve proposed and my aunt and uncle were a part of a surprise group who met us for dinner to celebrate. I'm so grateful they were both there on one of the biggest days of my life. When we sent our save the date cards, word spread that Steve looked like Uncle Woody and my cousins love to call him Little Woody. Steve knows by now that while "Woody" may not be a man's dream nickname, it's quite the compliment to be compared to my uncle.

Last spring, Uncle Woody's health problems seemed to get a little more serious and the stubborn man that he was... he still tried to play it off. Thankfully, he made it to our wedding in May and while he may not have been the party animal he would've been a couple years ago, it meant the world to me that he was there.

I saw Uncle Woody for the last time over Christmas, but it wasn't really him. My heart ached seeing the daily grind Aunt Sharon was living with and the difficulties Uncle Woody was having to struggle with. It's hard to find the good when you see disease stealing a person like that.

I can't imagine what Aunt Sharon is going through now that he passed away this morning... or what their kids or grandkids are going through but I'm one of a ton of people whose heart aches knowing he's not here with us anymore. At the same time I feel some relief that he's not stuck in that body anymore. And yet somehow that doesn't help me miss him any less...

I'm excited but...

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7

Steve and I found out in July that I'm pregnant (or am I supposed to say we're?). I haven't been entirely too sure how to put the last six months into words. There has been a flood of emotions and I'm thinking hormones are only partially to blame. I fully acknowledge not all of these feelings are rational, but they're there regardless.

I took two tests because while we were excited after the first one, we needed more proof a few days later. I called my doctor and they made me come pee in a cup before they would see me, but it felt more real once they acknowledged we really were pregnant. During those first few weeks it was crazy to have a secret that only Steve and I shared. It was a secret we had dreamt about and prayed for, but weren't sure would be possible for us. There was this huge sense of relief that we could get pregnant, some guilt for everyone I know who can't get pregnant, and lots of fear as I constantly worried about a miscarriage. I know they're common and rarely anyone's "fault," and I've seen what feels like so many friends and family go through them that it felt like a very real, rational fear.

Once August rolled around we told a few of our family and friends. It was fun to see them get excited, but I felt so much pressure to show them how excited I was... and I was excited, but I was also scared to death. I've always wanted to be a mom and it was like I was afraid to get too attached to this kid just to lose it. It didn't help that I was consistently nauseous all day through the first 14-15 weeks. Thankfully we got to hear our baby's heartbeat at eight weeks and for a moment, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Everyone says 12 weeks is a big mile marker and we made it September 7. Steve was so anxious to share the pregnancy with everyone, but I was still nervous. We had a doctor's appointment on the 9th and I really wanted to get through one more appointment and make sure everything was okay. Everything was fine at the appointment, but unfortunately Steve's grandfather passed away the next day. We made our big Facebook announcement September 11 and I was grateful for all of the kind words to help keep Steve's spirits up. It was comforting to have good news amidst a tough weekend for him.

On October 20 we had another ultrasound at 18 weeks and it felt like another step toward safety. Our kid was active and still had a healthy heartbeat giving me another sigh of relief. The staff was careful to not reveal the baby's gender and everything was on schedule, if not a day ahead. We squeezed in the glucose test just before the holidays and unfortunately I failed the first go round. I may or may not have had a bit of a meltdown as I decided I was not fit to carry a baby. Gestational diabetes is not the end of the world and my rational self understands that, but there was no convincing me that night. Thankfully, I passed the three hour test the next day and Steve has more patience than any person should need.

Last week we got to see Baby D (Dockery not daughter as my dad likes to suggest) in 3D and it was another surreal moment. I am carrying a human around every day... one that likes to kick and punch and make sure I know it's there.

I am still a bit hesitantly excited. I haven't done a ton of research or tried to read too much or go to any classes. I don't want to make myself more anxious. I did want to know how young a baby had ever been delivered and lived (21 weeks and 5 days) and I let out another breath every time we reach another week marker. The odds are in our favor and I am learning to let myself get more excited, but I feel like my brain is still trying to protect my heart.

The crazy thing in my brain's logic is it's not like our baby is guaranteed a long, healthy life once it's born. There are no guarantees. We should all know that by now... I'm still working on letting go of my need to control... letting go of the anxiety and trusting that every day we get to spend with this kid is worth any potential heartache. I'm praying for our baby every day and I'm praying I can embrace this lack of control. I'm so completely grateful for this experience and I promise I don't take it for granted... I'm just processing a myriad of emotions...

I'm excited, but I'm also anxious and scared... and hungry... but I'm always hungry.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." - Matthew 11:28-30

six months later... and counting

Photo by Ica Images

Wow... Once upon a time I thought I could be a blogger. At one (brief) point I was even writing three blogs a week and in 2011 I wrote 88 blogs. And yet this is blog number 13 in the last two years. I've been a slacker when it comes to blogging, but that doesn't mean I haven't had things to say.

My last blog came out two days before one of the biggest days of my life. I got married May 30 and it couldn't have been a more perfect day. Maybe I should've blogged about it as soon as I got back from my honeymoon to really capture my emotions, but instead I've been soaking it all in. When you want something for so long, it takes awhile to trust it's true.

Some of the highlights from our wedding weekend in no particular order...

1. We didn't have a runaway bride or groom! Before 4:30 p.m. on May 30, Steve and I were husband and wife. I've heard so many horror stories of weddings gone wrong that it was a relief to know we made it to the finish line.

2. The weather was amazing. I was too chicken to have an outside wedding for fear of crazy weather, but I also really wanted photos taken outside. The guys may have been sweating a little, but I could not have asked for better weather.

3. Everything worked out at Camp. Don't get me wrong... there were glitches or maybe hiccups... but none of it really mattered. They were not used to hosting weddings, but in the end I feel like I was able to embrace the full experience of another weekend at camp. On my wedding eve I slept in the first cabin I ever spent a week in when I was nine years old. I stayed up talking to some of the best friends a girl could ask for and woke up to take a morning walk around the camp. I ate breakfast in the dining hall and got married in the same building where I felt God take a hold of my heart when I was 12 years old.

4. No one got hurt. Steve tripped down the stairs after we were pronounced husband and wife and it still makes me crack up. We can laugh because he wasn't hurt and he is just so graceful. By the time we made it to the door and greeted all of the guests, he was telling everyone that I had swept him off his feet. Everyone close to me was relieved it was him and not me knowing he recovered better than I ever could have.

Photo by Ica Images

5. I may be biased, but the ceremony was awesome. Everyone told me to soak it all in because it goes by so fast and I really worked hard to take in each moment. I tried to see everything around me and experience the wedding and not just rush it away. We had some amazing friends and family support us and we will be forever grateful. I loved taking communion with Steve to start our marriage and our pastor did such a good job of putting God first on a day that keeps trying to pull your attention to each other. Not to mention... I have friends that can sing! I can't stop playing the video of Kenny and Zoe singing. At that point in the ceremony, I had finally composed myself during communion and then Steve and I turned around to face Kenny and Zoe while they sang.. just in time for me to lose it again!

Photo by Ica Images

6. My parents are uber generous. The day wouldn't have been possible without them. I know there are stories of people getting married for super cheap, but it's really hard to do. I tried to be so conscientious of my parents' pockets and Steve and I took care of some little popup expenses here and there, but no matter how you slice it... the wedding was expensive. I can't thank them enough and I'm so grateful for everyone else that thanked them. We always joked that I would have to wheel my dad down the aisle by the time I got married, but we walked it together.

7. My "vendors" took such good care of me. I had the best photographers in the world with Ica and her husband Tim. Jenna was so patient with my hair and took care of a bunch of my bridesmaids with time to spare. I never even met Angie who did my flowers, but she took glimpses of a vision I had and made everything look great. Rich kept the party hopping even if he did shut down some of my friends' requests. He managed the music and I just kept dancing! Julie and her crew at Sterling Caterers was so good. They even valeted our car and made sure our wedding party was taken care of before the reception. I left them boxes of decorations on Thursday and they ran with it. Six months later and I'm sure I've forgotten someone, but I'm really just grateful for the people who went above and beyond a contract to make our day so special.

Photo by Ica Images

8. So many people trekked a long way to attend our wedding. We had family and friends at the wedding from at least five different states and most people had to drive at least an hour let alone all of the people who came from NC and beyond. After all of the weddings I've been to, it is not lost on me how expensive and time consuming weddings can be. People paid gas or plane tickets and hotels and gifts and dresses or tuxes or a new outfit... I'm so grateful. Managing the guest list was probably one of the most stressful parts of wedding planning for me and it meant the world to me have so many of my favorite people all in one place for a day. I just wish I could have spent more time with everyone.

Photo by Ica Images

9. I had two cokes! Leading up to the wedding I cut out soda and french fries in order to make sure I could fit in my dress. Once we knew we could get the dress zipped my friend Sarah bought me a coke from a camp vending machine and it had never tasted so good! Steve was also kind enough to stop at McDonald's on our way to the hotel after the reception so I could get another one.

10. Did I mention I got married? For a girl who had dreamt of her wedding since she was a little girl, there were a lot of expectations riding on this one day. I don't know that I had picked out wedding dresses or flowers, but more than anything I looked forward to a day when I could promise myself to the love of my life. It wasn't an easy road for Steve and I to get here, but it was worth it. I could not have found a better man and I just pray every day that I can love him more.

why camp wo-me-to

Camp Wo-Me-To is one of my most favorite places on earth. If my memory serves me correctly, I first went to Camp in 1991. I spent seven summers as a camper and another four as a counselor. I celebrated a bunch of birthdays there and owe a ton of who I am to Camp. I've been talking about getting married at Camp for years. It may not be the easiest place, but I wouldn't change it for anything. The biggest reasons why I chose Camp Wo-Me-To for my wedding... 

1. My faith

I became a Christian when I was eight years old, but it didn't become real to me until I was 12. Camp Wo-Me-To had a missionary speaker from Burkina Faso, a small country in Africa. It was more than 20 years ago but I can see her and hear her speaking vividly in my memory. That hot sticky night in the chapel I tried to ignore Barbara and her crazy Africa stories about God working in her life and my friend Nicole will tell you I was trying to distract myself with anything other than what I was feeling. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense if you're not a Christian, but at the end of the service they asked if anyone wanted to become a Christian or renew their commitment. I tried to fight it, but I felt this unbelievable urge to surrender. Nicole said when I stood up, it was like this huge weight was physically lifted from my shoulders. I felt like I had a renewed purpose. 

Two years later I started working at camp. I'll never forget the first girl I prayed with as she made a decision to become a Christian. My faith continued to grow each summer at Wo-Me-To and I know that my faith journey would not have been the same without it.

2. A second family

Each year I tried to recruit a friend or two to go to Camp with me. After camp I'd exchange letters with the girls in my cabin and any counselors I wanted to stalk. The letters usually didn't last long once the school year started and everyone fell back into their normal routine post-summer camp.

During my last year as a camper, my friend Nicole and I met Laura. Nicole and I had been in a cabin with Laura's sister Sarah a couple of years prior and their older sister Kim was a counselor favorite, but we didn't really know Laura. We were in different cabins, but seated next to each other during a not so exciting missionary speaker. We may or may not have made a few jokes that opened the door to a camp friendship. (Sorry Rose!)

When Nicole and I had to say goodbye to Laura on the last day of camp, we were all in tears. Knowing camp friendships all too well, we really didn't know if we'd see each other again. We wrote letters and had to rely on our parents to let us make the occasional long distance phone call or make the hour and a half drive up and back to drop us off for a weekend. We eventually got e-mail and instant messenger and somehow we survived high school with our friendships intact. In college we all went our separate ways and it was harder to keep in touch even though (and maybe because) we had more independence and access. Somehow we were stronger than the distance. Over the years I became friends with Laura's entire family and was in both Laura and Kim's weddings in 2005 and then Sarah's in 2006. This summer marks 19 years since we met and I never take it for granted. Laura is one of my biggest cheerleaders and is always there to encourage me, but she's also the first one to let me have it when I'm being an idiot. There's a whole network of Camp friends that I know I could rely on even if I haven't seen them in years. There's something about the place that bonded all of us. 

3. My fiancé

In 2006 I took a guy to Camp Wo-Me-To. I wasn't even officially dating him and he turned out to be a real dud, but I definitely jumped the gun on showing him my favorite spot. He wasn't impressed and I essentially wrote him off forever at the first moment he turned up his nose upon arrival. 

Fast forward eight years and Steve was on his third or fourth visit to Maryland, but the first since we were seriously considering dating. We had Saturday morning free and I was debating what we should do. We settled on a hike to the King and Queen Seat in Rocks State Park. In the back of my head I knew the hike was 5-10 min from Camp and I was hoping I could take a side tour. Sarah said she knew then that it was big when I was willing to take a guy to Camp after the last debacle. I always knew that if I wanted to get married at Camp, I'd have to get my future husband on board. I wanted it to mean something to us and not just me. I knew we still had some work to do, but I was secretly hoping I was giving him a tour of our ceremony venue way back on July 26. I must have done something right because on July 30 he was writing a letter to John Harbaugh to start working on his proposal plan. That weekend was the real start of me and Steve and it will forever be etched in our memory. 

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There's just something about this place. I think it's beautiful on the outside, but the memories it holds for me just make it incredible. I can't wait to make new memories at Camp Wo-Me-To this weekend. Let's get this party started! 

another national championship...

The Methodist University men's golf team won its 11th NCAA National Championship on Friday. Methodist as a whole has won 36 National Championships in golf. The success is helped by the fact Methodist has a PGA Golf Management program, one of 19 in the country, where students can concentrate in "golf," earn a degree and graduate as a PGA Professional. There aren't a ton of small colleges or universities with an 18-hole golf course on campus and a couple hundred students there for golf giving MU a niche market. 

I had no idea Methodist was a "golf school" when I decided to attend in the fall of 2000. Little did I know that the women had won 10 of the last 12 titles and the men had brought back nine of 11 National Championship trophies. Unfortunately by the time a team won  a trophy, they came back to an empty campus with not a lot of fanfare. Social media was limited to AOL Instant Messenger so maybe there were a few congratulatory messages, but I know the student-athletes didn't receive their due. 

I was fortunate enough to work in the athletic department for seven of the 36 championships and witness one in person. The feeling is like no other... and I was just watching. They never let me hit the ball or even put the ball on a tee, but I took ownership. "We" won that championship! It's even better when the student-athletes are men and women you know. Don't get me wrong... I loved watching the Lady Vols win a NCAA Championship and the Ravens win the Super Bowl on tv... but it's a different kind of love when you can see people you know and care about win it all. 

This year I saw the Championship from a different perspective. We were working hard in the office on Friday of the final round of the tournament, but tried to keep up with the live stats in the background. Methodist had started the day five strokes back... not an insurmountable lead, but not a cake walk either. After lunch we turned to the live video feed and there was a slight echo around the office with four different computers trying to follow along. Methodist had the lead and then didn't. We were tied and then we fell back and then we had the lead. It took forever for the other teams to finish before we knew that Methodist had won. They clinched it just after 3:00 p.m. and my social media feeds erupted for the rest of the night. 

The @methodist_monarchs instagram account posted a celebration video that we shared on the Methodist Alumni Facebook page and it took off. Just on our page, we've had nearly 6,000 views, almost 200 likes and 83 shares not to mention all the likes and comments on the pages where it was shared. 

My favorite part of the day was watching the reach of this championship. The team still came back to a quiet campus Friday night, but social media was buzzing all weekend. People who have never played golf were sending congratulations. People who are usually complaining about something MU did or didn't do, were sharing the video. The excitement was contagious as my feed was full of people taking ownership of the championship. Alumni especially were bleeding green and gold, anxious to claim their alma mater.

Methodist does a ton of great things besides win golf championships, but winning definitely had Monarch Nation overflowing with pride this weekend. Congratulations to Coach Conley and the guys and thank you for letting us share this with you!

strengthen your brothers...

Easter was nearly a month ago and I haven't blogged in ages, but Peter's role in the Easter story still has me thinking...

Not long before Jesus was arrested, he predicted that one of his main guys, Peter, was going to deny him. That in itself is hard to swallow. I can't imagine being wrongly accused, arrested, and then one of my closest friends won't claim me. But what if I was Peter? If one of my friends is in the news, accused of something... will I stand by them? Or run away for fear of guilt by association?

Either way, Jesus is calling Peter out on it. And of course Peter thinks Jesus is crazy. No way would he deny Jesus. That's the crazier part to grasp when you're reading it. But have you ever been in that situation where you were so sure of something and then you found yourself in the middle of temptation or in a state of fear and you caved? I try not to even drive by Bojangles these days to avoid caving. Resistance is harder than it sounds when you're in the middle of temptation.

But even more than denying your BFF and even more than denying him after he warns you... Jesus told Peter, "But I have pleaded in prayer for you, Simon, that your faith should not fail. So when you have repented and turned to me again, strengthen your brothers." (Luke 22:32)

I love this verse because it shows so much about who Jesus is...

1. Jesus knows Peter is going to deny him and yet he's still pleading in prayer for him. Sometimes I've really struggled with prayer, but it's so reassuring to me to know Jesus was still praying even when he knew the outcome wasn't going to change. Sometimes I can't change the outcome, but I can pray for the impact the outcome is going to have.

2. Jesus knew Peter was going to turn back. Peter denied Jesus three times... not just once or twice... but three times! Even after he was warned. And not only did Jesus take him back, he knew he would come back without Peter even asking. There's nothing too big to keep us from turning back.

3. Jesus told Peter to strengthen his brothers once he turned back. Sometimes we get caught up in our failures and think God couldn't possibly use us. We're trained to clean up our resumes or we won't get hired. If the potential employer finds out about the employment gap or sees that questionable social media stuff, we may not get the job. God doesn't work like that. He doesn't even look at your employment history. He's already hired you! Peter is going to deny Jesus three times... and yet God is going to use him to strengthen his brothers. It's not over when you mess up.

How can you use your denial or your weakness or your mess up to strengthen your brothers or sisters? Don't let your mess up be an excuse for more messes, but turn to Him and let that mess make you stronger.

believe it...

A year ago today I wrote Steve a letter and mailed it. Yes, through the United States Postal Service. We like to keep our sisters employed so we do that occasionally. We had reconnected over the weekend and after a bad start in November, I was paranoid. I wanted to get to know Steve and I was thinking I should probably let him get to know me, but there were some timing concerns and this just felt like a big deal. 

I know it's easy for me to say that now that we're engaged, but I re-read the letter this weekend and I remember just feeling so much pressure. I had dated some douche bags, but I had also dated some really nice guys that I just ended up hurting. I was trying so hard to open up, but yet I wanted to protect both of us in the event things didn't pan out the way we wanted. 

I have always known Steve sees the best in me, but that was scary for a couple of reasons. First, I was sure I wouldn't live up to his expectations and he'd be disappointed. But it was also scary to think enough of myself to believe what he saw in me. Cockiness is such a huge turn-off, but confidence is so attractive. I know it's not as easy as flipping a switch and believing in yourself, but there is something to be gained from knowing who you are and owning it.

I'm so grateful for the people in my life who encourage me and remind me of who I am. My worth is in Christ, but sometimes it is too easy to feel like I never measure up. It is reassuring to see where I was a year ago and know that my value is not tied up in Steve or another person, but to still rest in knowing Steve sees the best in me and I can trust him. 

finding the good in college athletics...

Landmark SAAC representatives at the NCAA Convention with
Dan Dutcher, NCAA Vice President for Division III

Every January, the NCAA holds its annual Convention. There are educational sessions and conference meetings, but the primary purpose is to vote on legislation for the Association. While working for the conference office, the Convention has been one of the annual highlights for me. Around this time last year, our office started making plans to bring student-athletes to the 2015 Convention. Other conferences have done it in the past so we stole borrowed another conference's materials and set aside grant funding to make it happen. I became the point person on the project and spent nearly a year coordinating everything... 

And then I accepted a new job back in North Carolina, outside of college athletics. When I decided to take the new job, there were a bunch of moving pieces to figure out the transition, but I'm so grateful both employers were willing to help me still attend the Convention. There are definitely some perks to attending, but I also felt an obligation to see the student-athletes' trip through to completion. 

I started my new job January 6 in North Carolina and then drove back to Maryland on January 13 to attend the Convention January 14-17 at the National Harbor just outside of DC. I had spent a ton of time over the previous year trying to figure out how to make sure they all got along. I was about to put nine people together who attend different colleges and universities in the same conference. They compete against each other's institution every year and have developed rivalries that I hoped did not carry over off the field or court. A few met during our SAAC meeting in November, but they were essentially strangers and eight of the nine had to share a hotel room with one of these strangers. 

I won't bore you with the details of the trip, but I have to tell you I couldn't be more proud of this group of students. I'm so grateful to their advisors and administrators for recommending them and I owe the student-athletes a ton of thanks for embracing the experience. We went to a Convention with a ton of conversation centered around the Division I, "Big 5" and all of the discussion about paying student-athletes and providing them with extra benefits. Meanwhile, I spent most of my week with a group of student-athletes who are proud to be a part of Division III and they are soaking up all of the opportunities that come with it. They participated in the sessions, asserted themselves when appropriate and left with great relationships that spanned across sport and institution boundaries.

I left on Saturday reminded of why I love college athletics, but especially Division III athletics. I met a group of college students who are smart, talented, absolutely hilarious and they're going to be extremely successful in the "real world." I feel privileged to have had the opportunity to meet them and thrilled to let this experience be a bookend on my time at the conference office.

#commonsense

I said YES

I keep trying to come up with adequate words to describe last Friday, and it all falls flat. I may not be a “girly girl,” but I have always wanted to get married. I wanted to experience a love like that… I wanted to find “the one.” I’ve waited longer than many, but not as long as some… and along the way I’ve imagined what Friday would look like… what it would feel like. I wrote an entire blog about it when I didn’t even have a boyfriend. I’ve watched hundreds of proposal videos, but once I knew it would be Steve, I never wanted to put any pressure on him. I never wanted him to feel like he couldn’t live up to these crazy expectations I had. Everyone warned me that no one would be able to live up to them…

And yet Steve surpassed every expectation I had. He planned for months, he got a ton of people involved and he orchestrated the perfect proposal for me. I couldn’t have asked for anything more and I can’t wait to marry him!

Steve and I are so grateful for all of the people who have been so supportive of our relationship. It’s been nearly impossible to respond to everyone over the last few days and share our story so I’m giving you the cliffnotes via all the FAQ I keep getting.

Q: Were you surprised?

A:  Absolutely. Steve and I had talked about getting married since August, and I knew he was going to propose, but I had no idea when it would happen. He wanted to ask my dad’s permission and I wasn’t sure when he was going to do that since he’s in North Carolina and my dad’s in Maryland. I had just seen Steve the weekend before and he led me to believe he hadn’t talked to my dad yet so I had spent the week complaining to my friends and family and I was getting antsy (meanwhile he had driven up to MD without me knowing and asked my dad almost a month earlier!). I knew Steve was driving to Maryland on Friday to spend the weekend with my family for my dad’s birthday, but I didn’t think he was getting here until much later.

Q: How did they get you to the stadium?

A: My dad had told me a couple weeks ago that he had won a fan tour of Ravens stadium for being a season ticket holder. He has always wanted to find a way to get on the field and he was so excited (I’m still convinced he was more excited for the tour than the proposal!). He told me he was taking off work and asked if I could leave work early to get there for a 3 p.m. tour. My boss had been out of the office for a couple of weeks and was just coming back the day before so I wasn’t sure I could swing it, but I thought it would be a good way to spend time with my dad to start his birthday weekend. I wasn’t too worried about the tour since I had just gone to the Ravens’ “Ladies Night” that Monday, but it seemed like everyone was adamant that I go. I finally got the nerve to ask my boss if I could leave early and he gave me the okay just as Steve and everyone else who was in on the proposal breathed a big sigh of relief!

Q: And then??

A: This woman was giving us our tour and I felt kind of bad for her because I didn’t think she was the greatest tour guide. We made it out to the field and were hanging out on one of the benches and she said, “Since you guys are extra special guests, you get to take your picture on the 50 yard line!” Meanwhile, I’m thinking we’re not that special, because everyone was taking pictures there on Monday night, but we walk out there. It felt kind of silly, but I’m thinking we’ll appreciate this cute family picture later. We had to do some reorganizing to get Kelsie and Barton next to each other and I had the familiar thought that I wished Steve could have come so I didn’t have to be the awkward fifth wheel in another family photo (no offense to my four month old nephew, Andrew). The tour guide says, “There’s just something missing… I think we need a football.” It sounded super cheesy and Barton made a joke, but I felt bad for her and I didn’t want my dad to feel like he got gypped on this tour so I’m trying to rationalize why we need to take another picture with a football. I’m thinking she’s up to something, but I legitimately think it’s a surprise for my dad since he won this tour. And then I turn around and Steve is coming out of the tunnel. I started walking toward him, and then I turned around to my family and said, “I hoped this would happen!” Not that I thought I was getting engaged that day, but I really did want to get engaged and I really wanted Steve to be there and the combination of both things happening at once were exploding in my head! As I was walking toward him, I was thinking, “Oh no, I hope he didn’t want to do this in the middle of the field, because that’s going to be awkward to walk back!” Meanwhile he had told my family if I didn’t start walking toward him, to move out of the way because he didn’t want them crowding him and making him nervous.

Q: When you saw him, did you know he was going to propose?

A: I was desperately trying not to assume, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was really, really hoping! I tried to prepare myself for the fact that he might just be surprising me at the tour since I didn’t think he could come. But then he was shaking and rambling and I knew!

Q: What did he say?

A: I have NO idea! He said some really nice things about forever and I mumbled something about absolutely. My family asked him what he said and he doesn’t have a clue either. My brain was going a mile and a minute and I realized I didn’t care what he said. He had told me everything I needed to hear over the last year for me to know how to answer.

Q: And then??

A: And then I said YES! He put a beautiful ring on my finger that I don’t know any of the details to share with you except it’s perfect and he had the inside engraved with, “Loving you is easy” from the Ben Rector songthat he had Mitch Clark sing for me a couple of months earlier. He topped off the day with a dinner with my parents, all my siblings, nephews, aunt and uncle, and my best friend and her husband. I didn’t feel like I was putting together any coherent sentences, but it was the perfect way to celebrate an amazing day.

Q: So when’s the wedding?

A: Good question. It is looking like May or June 2015.

Q: Who’s moving?

A: Another good question… that I don’t have the answer to. We agreed months ago that we would both be open to moving to find the best opportunity for us. I am fortunate that I have an amazing network of friends and family in NC from the nine previous years I spent there, but I’ve also worked hard to make sure Steve knew I was willing to share my MD friends and family if he were to move here. I am still researching a way for us to be in both places… at the same time.

Q: Wasn’t that fast?

A: I think it depends on your perspective. If we were 18, maybe. But we’re 32. If you’re judging our relationship on facebook posts, maybe. But we spent a lot of time figuring out our relationship before we ever shared anything on facebook. I will be the first to admit, Steve knew way before me, but this was a year in the making. I had lots of questions, lots of uncertainty early, but Steve waited for me to figure it out. I always knew how he felt, and I felt like God was slowly opening my heart. The distance was actually a blessing for us, because it tempered the time we could be together and let our relationship develop in the perfect amount of time for us, rather than the too much too soon that has sometimes plagued my previous relationships. Some kept waiting for me to freak out about my relationship with Steve and how fast things seemed to be moving, but once I knew, I knew. We’re not perfect, but this is it. I’m all in and he’s stuck with me!