This last weekend a childhood friend of my husbands died unexpectedly of a heart attack on an airplane at the age of 29.

What. The. Heck.

Friends set up a gofundme account and it has raised over 20,000$! In just 2 days. The paragraphs of writings and photos shared on social media have brought me to complete tears.

He is dancing in heaven for sure, but goodness did his dying leave heartache on earth.

It’s made me think a lot. When I die, will things be written about me like this? Would people come together for a gofundme account to raise money for my family?

My husband wanted to go through yearsbooks tonight to look at memories of him and this friend. So as I sat with him I also went through my yearbooks. I ended up staying up for hours reading what people wrote to me.

So many friends thanked me for being me. For not caring what people thought. For being annoying and crazy haha. For listening and making them laugh.

Every person wrote one or more of those things. Almost all of them said thank you to me for letting them just be themselves around me and not judging them and making them laugh.

I’ve never thought of myself as funny. I find others funny and spent most of my growing up laughing at others. I bruised my ribs from laughing so much one night!

Now, I’m a mom of toddlers, who today lost my mind and yelled at my oldest. And it wasn’t nice. I just snapped. I said I’m sorry and talked to him about how it wasn’t okay what I did and that I yelled at him. But I feel like my days are so hard right now that I’m not laughing every day. I’m making my kids laugh every day, but that deep laugh that used to make me fall over, that is gone in the monotonous work of being a mom of toddlers.

I would however not change where I am at. I love my kids. They definitely make me smile every day and challenge me and teach me. They are the best thing that has ever happened to me.

But am I affecting any other lives? Does that even matter now? My kids are my legacy. How I raise them. How they are as adults and their strengths. I hope I cheer on who they are individually and that I don’t judge them. And that when they are adults they can be some of my best friends and we can have those good deep belly laughs.

I hope when I die, that I lived this life well like my husbands friend. He lived every day to the fullest and lived it for God. It’s powerful reading the impact he had on others from such a young age.

xoxo kymberly


Pregnancy and Baby Announcements.

I’ve gotten to share two pregnancy and two baby announcements on social media. I feel super blessed to be able to do that. I also should say that I love baby and pregnancy announcements. It is the main reason I check my Instagram. I want to see the cute additions to families and the creative ways that people share their news.

Lately…. These pregnancy announcements bring me to tears.

Its the weirdest feeling because it is not jealousy, it is not that I want to be them and want to be pregnant. In general, I don’t like being pregnant. But I want my baby back. I want that pregnancy back. I want to be in my second trimester.

All these announcements, I should also be announcing my pregnancy.

I should be announcing that we are going to keep the gender a surprise.

I should be posting belly pictures and what movements I’m feeling.

But I’m not.

I seriously feel like everyone is pregnant and due in May. I had to unfollow some people because it hurt to see what I should be posting and I’m not. And it truly has nothing to do with them at all. It has everything to do that my baby should still be here and I don’t know why its not.

Now going into the holidays where I thought I was going to be pregnant and I’m not going to be now. Its so weird. It feels like the fastest 9 weeks of my life.

That week of loosing the baby was the hardest week that I have ever had. It felt like it was lasting forever. Every time I went to the bathroom I was so scared that the bleeding was going to start. I just laid in bed holding my tummy praying and crying out that its heart would start beating again.

And in a blink of an eye, it has been almost 2 months already.

Did that all really happen?

Was I really pregnant for those 9 weeks?

xoxo kymberly

Miscarriage. 💔

I had a miscarriage. Man. That is hard to type out. I have been wanting to write about the past couple months but nothing comes out when I sit to do it. 
I found out I was pregnant in August 2017, I lost the baby October 5, 2017. I was 9 weeks along but the baby stopped growing at 7 weeks. 

I am sure I’ll be able to write about it at some point. But then at the same time I have wanted to write about my husbands brain surgeries and I never have been able too. 

Last night something happened and I felt like it is super important for me to write down to remember. 

I was really encouraged. 

One phone call around 8pm from a close friend that didn’t know my thoughts the last week. She just called and chatted then started encouraging me. Knowing I want to be pregnant, she kept encouraging that my 3rd earthly child will be born in his timing. That I can use this time to focus more on the two I have and spend quality time with them to shape and mold them and pour into them. Really focus on what they need and how to parent them each. Trying to find the good in the day is sometimes hard. It’s easy to find good in my overall life. I am a mom of two amazing toddlers, in my eyes, can’t get better than that. But my heart longs for a baby that isn’t here and I still want it here. My focus quickly jumps to that missing child when I’m taking photos of the two on earth with me. “In May, there will not be 3 to take pictures of, still 2”. So I was thankful for an outside light to shine in that I still have important work to do in the time of grieving. 
A couple text messages came later from a different friend. Pouring into me and encouraging me mainly about who I am. The qualities in me that she admires. The strength she sees in me. The fact that she finds me to be a good mom. All things I have heard before but really needed to be reminded of. 

What is God doing right now? A friend that has been in my shoes told me that she can look back and see what God was doing when she lost her baby. There was good in that sad time. I’m trying to see what’s happening. Why did my baby have to leave? What was the bigger picture of that loss? I know I have to wait to see, or maybe I’ll never know. 

What am I supposed to be learning right now? What is this season for? I don’t like it. I want to be almost half way done with my pregnancy. I want to be getting things ready and ordering coming home outfits. 

We weren’t going to find out if it was a boy or girl. We were going to be surprised. But now, all I want to know is if it was a girl or boy. Name the baby. Know the baby or have a dream about the baby. 

I’m really sorry if you have lost a baby. My heart longs for comfort for you. Let me know in the comments if I can pray for you or if you just need to chat. 



Waterfall Mom. 

It took a couple months for me to get the hang of being a mom. Learning N and what he needed and when. Also to learn my roll as a mom. The selfless part came natural to me. I fell in love with a little baby and would do anything for him. And not that I want to be selfish, but I am learning I need to take care of me also. 
A friend of mine at bible study gave this beautiful picture that I am a teared waterfall. If the very top pool isn’t filled, then there isn’t any water to fall into the pools below. How am I supposed to fill others if I am empty? 
Another friend of mine for months has been encouraging me to find something that is mine again and press into that. Just to really take care of myself all around. If I’m taking care of me then I’m going to be a better wife, mom, daughter and friend because I’m being filled and able to pour into others. 

With that being said, finding alone time as a mom of two is a lot harder for me than a mom of one. I do good being a mom of two. That transition of taking two everywhere and getting them fed, dressed, and naps, with little meltdowns or tears, I do good. A lot of days I’m really proud of myself! But I’ve been struggling as to when to find time to sit at the feet of Jesus and be filled. 

I feel guilty when I hear that other are having this alone quiet time, or coffee time, or even at church when asked if I am having quiet time because it’s so important. I’m not. My day is so busy with little monotonous things that before I know it, it’s 7:00pm and time for baths and bed. 

I love little tips I’ve been told. Or stories of other moms that have had a hard time like me. One mom would put a blanket over her head and the kids knew that was her time with Jesus and they wouldn’t bug her. Another mom had “coffee with Jesus” and her kids left her alone if that coffee was in her hands. Another mom got her time with Christ by doing bible crafts and stories with her kids. 

It is hard to be a mom of little ones and find that time to have for yourself and be filled. Sleep is so important that waking up early is not an option for me when Peyton still gets up 3-4 times a night. So most days I have worship music playing in the house. Then I can stop where I am and sing or dance and my kids love it and do their own thing. 

I also am finding more time this week as my toddler randomly became in love with the movie Trolls. That gives me about an hour once I get P fed set up with something. 

I started doing more bible journaling. I love it. It takes my love of scrapbooking (that I have zero time for) and my need and want to press into Christ and gives me the filling I need so much. I am getting both! Something for me, and time with Jesus. 

I don’t know what I’ll do when Trolls is not a hit anymore haha. Maybe I’ll be blessed and they will nap at the same time! 

I hope if you’re a mom, you find something for you. Something that you love to do and have some time to do it and enjoy it as you go along your day and clean the spot on the floor 15 times and no one notices. I hope you also find a way to sit and breath and take in what God wants to teach you and share with you. And I also hope you don’t feel guilty as I have about not spending quiet time with Jesus. There is grace for us. He knows what we are doing. He sees us clean that spot 15 times! 

Have blessed day! 




Digital Citizenship 

After I got married I deleted my Facebook because I didn’t like how easy it was for people to share other people’s photos. I felt like I couldn’t have the privacy I wanted, so I removed myself from it and keptp using my Instagram. I also ask others to not put my kids on Facebook. Some people haven’t listened to me and that’s a big bummer, but I still continue to ask. 

I use Instagram as a memory lane site. It keeps the date and I have a caption and I love to look back at what was happening and when. 

Then I had N and was so in love that I wanted to share him with everyone on my Instagram. He was my 1,000 post. I thought that also was pretty awesome. I was told that his picture made people feel so happy and his smile made them have better days. 

Along with posting N (he really is all I started to post about) I gained more followers of friends that I was currently meeting and friends I met when I was 2.  

Along the way I felt a little pressure to post my son to let others have a smile. I put that pressure on myself and Instagram started to become like Facebook to me. I had to many followers and I had no idea where all those individuals were at in their life. Would they screenshot my son and send it to someone I don’t know? I started feeling uncomfortable so I just started posting less. 

Then I had friends whose accounts would get hacked. So whoever hacked those accounts then also had access to my photos… I didn’t like that. 

Then I read on this blog about digital citizenship and it got me thinking…. I’m really only posting my kids… I have subjected them to social media without their consistent. Am I protecting them the way I want to in this crazy world? 

My mind just kept going with all these negative things about social media. I came to my final breaking point on our family vacation when something personal happened with family. 

I was all done. 

The drive home I deleted almost all my followers on Instagram. I later found out they all were not deleted because I was in and out of service so some people are still following that account. 

I turned my public crochet account into my every day account and haven’t posted about my life. 

It’s been really nice actually. My life is private. I don’t think about how many likes I have or who has liked my photo. I haven’t been asked why I took people off the old one, but I felt like writing about. 

I think I’m leaning to opening a third account (I know, crazy). And in this account it doesn’t matter who is following me because I won’t be posting pictures of my kids. I can go back to posting things I personally am doing besides being a mom, like working on my backyard, or what book I’m reading, or my thoughts. Or I can post about my kids but not portraits of their faces, maybe their cute little hands and what they are drawing. 

And maybe one day I’ll post a family photo, or I’ll change my mind and point of view. But for now, I don’t want my kids out there all over the Internet. And N is already out there for almost 3 years, and P is out there for 6 months. But I can change that as of now and just keep their photos I take close to my heart and spend less time on social media anyways. 

I want to follow my friends. I love seeing when a friend is getting married or becomes pregnant. How they announce things and how they decorate their homes. But with all these reasons that I feel like I should keep my life a little more private, I also don’t want to miss exciting moments others are sharing. 

I’m battling this social media battle inside me. The boundary I should have with it. Where does it come into my life to much? How much should I share of my life and of my kids? When they get older are they going to care that I posted about them or that I didn’t post enough? 

So many thoughts I have. 

Testing out so far, not posting for a month and a half has felt so good! If someone wants to see a picture, they can ask me! I have lots haha. 

What are your thoughts? I’m sure this could look paranoid or maybe not even make sense because it’s my raw thoughts that I’m typing on my phone as I nurse P in the middle of the night. How do you feel about social media and sharing the right amount with the world?

xoxo kymberly 


P’s Birth Story

P is 6 months old already!!! I’ve had her birth story sitting on my phone for months and thought for her half birthday I would share her story. 

Disclaimer- it’s a long one. 

July 31st– we had an appointment at labor and delivery at noon to check the fluid and have a stress test done. All the test were perfect and we got an ultrasound that showed us she was still face up. My doctor came and visited us and talked about induction and I told her I didn’t want to wait much longer so she gave us the option of that night or Thursday. I choose that night and we choose 8:00pm to come back after having our last dinner with N and spend some last time as a family of 3. Then start the induction. Because I was 41 weeks and in a lot of pain. 

Went home and spent time with N. Ate some dinner and cleaned up a little. Made sure we had all of our things we would need for the hospital. My mom watched N during the testing and came back to our house to spend the night with him. 

We got to the hospital and were monitored again and spent a little longer being monitored because P was asleep and she needed to move and show more activity before they could start medicine. She moved well and then My doctor checked me, I was 1/5-1 cm dilated. Then got the first dose of misoprostol at 10:00pm. I have to be monitored for the first two hours to see how my body reacts to it. 

Caleb and I walked around a little and I did stretches to try to help her flip over so she wasn’t sunny side up when it came to pushing. 

August 1- Midnight I got a bagel and cream cheese as my midnight snack and then was told to sleep as much as I can. I got put back on the monitors and at 2am I got my second dose of misoprostol. Then 6am I got the third dose.

At 10am when I should have got the fourth dose they wanted to check me first. I was on the monitors and hardly saw my nurse at all. For about three hours I became really discouraged. Caleb went home to hang out with N, there was no tv in my room, nothing was progressing and I had no idea where my nurse was! I just wanted to start having stronger contractions and meet my baby. 

After 1pm my nurse finally came in and talked to me and told me a baby was born in the parking lot. Like this car literally pulled into the parking lot honking because a baby was coming out. Two other babies were born in the hallway. I guess because my body wasn’t progressing, I was last priority. Obviously I understand and those babies needed medical attention and my baby was fine inside my belly. I was just so bummed that I was just sitting in the hospital with nothing happening. That afternoon sometime I got the fourth dose of misoprostol. 

Around 6:30pm my doctor came in and talked to me and checked me. I had effaced well and she could stretch me to 4 cm which was all good signs. She told me at 7 when the shift change happened I would have my own nurse and start pitocin. I needed my own nurse to be on pitocin, and that day of all the crazy babies being born I didn’t have my own nurse to myself. She let me go outside and take a walk before the sun went down and I went on pitocin. So Caleb and I took a 10min walk outside. 

7pm came and I met my new nurse. Around 8pm I got my iv and blood drawn. Then I started on pitocin. 

Caleb found bachelorette for me online and streamed it for me because the labor rooms don’t have a tv which is just crazy to me! 

I decided I wanted to walk around while I could. So we did laps around the hospital as the pitocin started to make my contractions progress. On one of those laps we ran into my doctor who asked me if I wanted her to break my water. She said its up to me, she has to preform a csection with the anitheologist and then she’s ready for me to have my baby. So I decided to have her break my water. 

She checked me before she broke my water. I was almost fully effaced and could be stretched to 4cm which was good but I was still positior. 

She broke the water. So weird to feel my water break. I didn’t feel it break with N so that was new to me. 

Water was green so she told us what that meant. She told Caleb he couldn’t cut the cord (he didn’t want to anyways) because they would need to check her right away to make sure she didn’t swallow  any poop. 

I walked around the hospital more till a contraction hit that were just to much for me. 

I went and laid in bed to relax as contractions got stronger and wait for my epidural. My one “birth plan” that I wanted. 

The nurse and Doctor helped me breath threw contractions. I just wanted to tighten my body and hold my breath. So I focused on their eyes and copied their breathing as Caleb held a heat pack against my back and I laid on my right side. 

I remember thinking this is what dying feels like. So painful. 

I don’t remember what story exactly my doctor started telling me trying to get my mind off the pain, but it was in the Bible. She is an incredible doctor. I had her trying to encourage me with stories from the Bible and Friends streaming on Caleb’s ipad next to me. Anything to try and distract my mind. 

I was told my epidural would come at midnight so I only needed to get threw a handful of contractions. 

Then I felt something happen in my body and told my dr something was coming out of me. 

She hopped on my bed and checked me and said “we’re having a baby now!” I remember thinking, “no no no, I’m supposed to have an epidural!” I guess it was the bloody snow that I felt. 

I am not sure really what happened during those ten minutes. It all happened so fast! So fast, that I was laying on my back with the bed laying flat and my doctor on the bed with me, kneeling in between my legs. So fast that the bottom part of the bed didn’t come off, I didn’t recline up like how I was with N, it was so crazy to have my doctor on the bed with me! 

Pushing…. Oh. My. Gosh. That was the most PAINFUL thing. It was burning me. And remember, I did this before, but had half an epidural and wasn’t on pitocin. 

I screamed. Like bloody murder screamed. Every push I screamed so my neighbors in Italy could hear that my daughter was being born (I live in California). 

I pushed her head out and then my doctor had the nurse call on the phone for ctons of people to come in as back up. 

P’s shoulder got stuck against my pubic bone. My doctor (still on the bed with me) leaned over my legs so she was super close to my face, (in my view she was on top of me, as I was laying on my back) and said, “Kymberly, you have to push her out NOW” um what the heck? What do you think all those screams are for, kicks and giggles??! I’ve been pushing my hardest. I’m scared to push any harder. And just like that fear over took me even more. 

What was wrong?

What made my fun, kind doctor so serious?

Was P alive?

Then I looked to my left at caleb, who was pushed aside by all the people called in as back up and he didn’t look good to me. I had no idea what was going on.  

So I pushed. I pushed with my heart that time to get her out. 

And out she went. 12:14am (Caleb says she was born sooner but how crazy everything was, they didn’t look at the time). 

She was quickly taken to get cleaned up and make sure she didn’t break any bones when she was stuck. Because she got stuck on my pubic bone she was at risk of having her collar bone shattered and shoulder issues. She was perfect! And she didn’t swallow any poop! 

I also learned as they were cleaning her up, that the umbilical cord got pinched when she got stuck. So the reason my doctor told me I needed to push her out now is because they were afraid that she wasn’t getting any oxygen. Even though it was pinched, they didn’t see any sign that she missed any breaths when they examed her! 

I couldn’t focus on anything because my body would not calm down. They couldn’t get me to stop bleeding. I was FREEZING! And couldn’t stop shaking. They put tons of hot blankets on me and still I was so cold. It was horrible. The pain didn’t end when my baby came out. 

They wanted me to hold P and I couldn’t. I asked Caleb to, because my body was not my own at that moment. I felt completely out of control. I hated it. I feel like I missed out on so much!! 

By 2 am the bleeding had stopped. They ended up giving me medicine to clot my blood so it didn’t keep pouring out of me. We got a family picture from one of my amazing nurses. And I got to really hold P.

It was time to sleep and I couldn’t. I ended up holding her in bed with me because I had no idea what just happened and wanted her close to me. 

She was perfect. I didn’t sleep that night. I just listened to her breath and prayed over her. 

What a crazy couple of hours for me. My body has never been through that much pain and I’ve never felt so out of control. But man was she worth it!!! 



What did you Learn Today?

Everyday, all day, I repeat myself. 

By the end of the night I’m so tired of talking. 

Today I told Nathan to “wait” and was trying to teach him that he can’t have something right then and there. (Well actually everyday I’m teaching this.)

He is a child that has to get his thoughts out though. You can’t tell him to not interrupt when others are talking because to him, he has the most important thing to say and has to be heard out right that second. 

It’s pretty challenging for me to try and teach him to wait his turn when it comes to talking. 

Then I learned today…. I’m like that. 

Now I’m very aware that my son is my husbands physical clone but my personality clone. It’s actually really funny how he acts exactly like me but looks exactly like his dad! 

Another reason why so many things are challenging to teach him, he’s just like me and I realize I’m needing to change my behavior to set the example for him. But that’s a different post. 

Today I learned that I don’t like the waiting…

I mean who likes to wait? 

I just didn’t think of it in the context of praying. 

I pray for something to change and am just waiting for it to happen right then or at least before I go to bed. Sometimes I’m praying like I have the most important request and I need it answered right then. I can’t wait. I have the most important prayer (which is silly looking at it that way). 

But…. What’s happening in the time that God has me waiting? Why doesn’t he answer my prayer request right then? 

I learned that I need to soak in what he is doing in the waiting time. What he’s teaching me and what I could be learning. And then I thought… “how many times has God repeated himself to me? And asked me to wait?” It blows my mind his patience level he has!