My dear, sweet Madeline Rowe was born on the 19th of May. Yes, dear friends, she is a mere 24 days old. I can't believe I haven't posted earlier. Wait, I totally can. She is such a handful. Here I sit, at 3 a.m., watching her totally awake self squirm around in her Moses basket & shoving her little fist into her mouth. Little baby bear, why aren't you sleeping? You should cherish this time which you can sleep hours upon hours with nobody judging you. Some day, you'll be a mommy. Does anybody else miss nap-time?
Recovery has been hard. Almost too hard. Enough for me to want to give up completely. Sometimes I want to run away. Not from Maddie-Bear, no, but from myself. I'm still dealing with the pain of tearing ALL THE WAY TO MY BUTT. Yeah, she ripped right through that sucker. Well, with the help of forceps & a suction cup. The first night home I cried all night because I couldn't get lay down in bed, I couldn't sit on anything but a heap of pillows, peeing hurt, blah blah blah, and Madeline wanted to feed on my bleeding/peeling breasts literally every thirty minutes. My poor husband had to deal with both of our screaming for about a week. Oh, and my ankles/legs/thighs/fingers everything is still swollen. It's called "edema", and - wait, she just spit up on herself - it sucks. Does it seem like I'm complaining a whole lot? Good, because I am complaining a lot. We should be allowed to complain. Women push 8 pound babies out of their lady gardens for crying out loud! I will complain.

Now for the good stuff: even though she's COMPLETELY awake right now I cannot even be mad at her. I mean, God, she is so beautiful. I can't believe my ridiculous husband Christopher made this sweet little baby. Man, she's fiesty tonight. It must be boob-time, so I'll cut this short. Babies are good stuff.

Can I get an "amen"?

Here's today's word of the day: Hormones. I hate them. Christopher and I have been fighting like cats and dogs as of late. Well, to me we have. To him we're probably just having a normal conversation. Today, I cried for an hour and a half because Chris said I was distracting him from sleeping. Really. I ran to the other room, and cried like a child. Okay, Chris and I haven't REALLY been fighting. I just think too much. Women really light fighting, anyways. Every single relationship I was in during high school was awful--mostly because I LOVED picking fights. One of the guys even stuck around for over a year, and asked me to marry him. I don't really know why.

I went to the OBG/YN's office today. Again. I have to go every week for pelvic exams because I'm in my last four weeks. They hurt. They hurt really bad, actually. When you're pregnant, all of your lady junk gets really swollen, and they think it's really cool & totally okay to probe around down there with bits of metal. There HAS to be a better way to check my cervix, Doctor. I'm actually not okay with anything down there, at all. Even Madeline. She's going to have to find another way to come out. When I say "another way" I mean she's going to have to use magic, because I'm actually scared out of my right mind about child-birth. Maybe I should have thought about that before making a baby.

Baby Bundt is coming out in 29 days! :)

Sometimes I doubt that I'm actually pregnant, that I'll actually be a mother. Even still, when my entire body is evidence to that fact. I watch Madeline roll around beneath my skin and wonder how I deserve to be blessed like this. I was called by my Father in Heaven to be a mother. He thinks more of me than I could ever stand to think of myself.

Less than forty days, and I'll be able to cradle her in my arms. My uterus is getting tired, anyways.

Yesterday was wonderful. Sunday always brings light to the darkest of times. My husband and I are finally above the water in terms of finances. That was my greatest concern for the time being. Moving back to Plano was definitely costly, but we decided that we'd rather be broke and happy. Not fearing the future is such a refreshing feeling. Sure, I don't really know how I'm going to react to being a young mother, but I'm not quite "scared." I'm comfortable in my own skin. Each day I find a new flaw, but I know my Heavenly Father made me this way. There is someone beautiful looking back at me in the mirror, even if I forget.
There's something bittersweet in seeing off a good friend on their Mission. I've grown accustomed to saying goodbye to people in my life, mainly family that forgot what family meant, because it would be beneficial to me. It's a rare day when you watch somebody leave to pick up the fallen. I say "fallen" because I believe the words the Elders spoke to me literally lifted me out of my drunken stupor. If we were all humble as those Missionaries - who devote 2 solid years of nothing but sharing the Gospel to those who need to hear it - life wouldn't be such a hard walk. Daniel, I mean Elder Hyer, I wonder how you'll change. Will you still swing-dance with me? Don't forget me, okay?

Shiloah's really excited about being Madeline's Godmother. I cannot think of a more responsible and amazing woman than her. Sweet business.

The chores are stacking up, and I'm loving it. I haven't had this much energy since we first moved into our apartment. We renewed our lease yesterday much to my mother's disdain. She really wanted us to come stay with her until the baby was born. I couldn't really take much more of Lewisville. And besides, I'm happy just being with my husband. Whether we're in a higher-end apartment complex or not does not matter to me. I want our bodies to be entwined for as long as possible, if I were living back home this would not happen. We've been married for six months now. Our relationship is absolute paradise to me. If you can escape from the world in the eyes of another, you've found something real. Out of those six months we've been married, I've been carrying our baby for five and a half. We're told SO often that we should have at least waited a year, but you will NEVER hear me complain about Madeline coming quickly in our lives. So many people have trouble conceiving, and we got pregnant within about two weeks of being married. That is a sweet blessing to me. Though we are young, I will not act like she is a burden on my growth. She isn't. She is the biggest part of my progression. A love like this cannot be matched.

I am a woman.

My Oma gave me a whole thing of Oreos. Excuse me for a minute while I finish getting the crumbs all over my laptop.

Okay. This week I was pushed over the edge sanity-wise. Instead of throwing out hurtful nouns, verbs, and adjectives at innocent passersby, I decided to write my disappointments down on paper. I wrote for hours, I wrote until I thought my hand would detach itself from my body. I hoped to post those things that weighed me down, but as I read my five-page list of sorrow, I realized how silly I was. Sure, both of our vehicles were taken away due to unseen forces. Sure, somebody sent us a fraudulent check that cost us our funds for roughly a month. Most of the time, I feel like I'm in Purgatory, like I'm glued to this bed (which provides NO back support, and only angers me further). These things are trivial -ish. They have cost us dearly: namely my job, and my sweet husband's peace-of-mind. We don't have to wallow in guilt anymore. We have to stand up and be good and ready for our blessing in a tiny human package. I'm so tired of sitting, and waiting.
Now that I've "taken out the trash" so to speak, life has been so much better. The "trash" I speak of is other people's/my own doubts. If you think I'm too young to be a mother, don't tell me. I think there are women in their thirties that are too young. It's a state of mind, and I know that I'm ready. I'm not my mother, I'm not my mother's mother's mother. I've grown into my own. You will not find me asking my baby girl to pick me up from the bar because I'm too drunk to walk. You will not find me choking for air because I suck down two packs of cigarettes a day. I used to drink, and smoke in my mid-teens, but I am enlightened. That is not me anymore. I know that my life is not my own. It would be selfish to think that.


I say this a lot: I am a woman.
It means something to me. You're born a female, but you have to grow into a woman. It's an art.


I am a woman.

A day in this life.

Here I am: 20 years old, married to my wonderful Return Missionary, and I've been a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints for a year and one month. I have never known joy like I know joy now. Hand-in-hand with my husband, kneeling by the bed, in prayer. I know joy. I wake up to him on his days off and we count down the days until we can be sealed in the Temple. I tell him that I have never been this happy, this safe in my entire life. The night we got married we were laying in bed, crying. I in my wedding dress, and him in his suit. We were crying because of the joy we felt. Were we to die, we would still have eachother. Always. Families can be together forever. This I know. I've seen the bonds that our Heavenly Father made, and I know that they are unbreakable. I am thankful for my many blessings. I met my husband at my baptism, and I know that there are no coincidences. I am ever so thankful. I know that I fall down a lot, but I know my Elder Brother & Savior is always there to lend a hand.

Never have I been more happy.
Never have I felt so much love.

Here's my heart.

Yeah, I'm getting married in 9 days. Gosh! I'm so excited, too. There's still so much to do. I wonder if I'll even get everything done. I haven't finished picking out the bridesmaid's gifts, or picked out jewelry. I haven't even gotten Christopher's present. I have not a freaking clue what to get him. What to you get somebody the day you marry them that they are supposed to treasure forever? I thought marriage was the gift--or the honeymoon. ;) We've got eachother, isn't that enough? I seriously just don't know. A picture frame would be too ridiculous, because EVERYBODY and their mom is going to get us picture frames. It's what happens. Man, a week and two days away from being Mrs. Ashlee Dunn. That's completely nuts/awesome. We're not going to the Temple until next year, but I will hopefully get endowed in October.

Life has gotten better.
Prayer works.
And Sunday ALWAYS comes.
Christopher and I got our apartment about a week and a half ago, and we love, love, love it. It's a two bed/two bath in Plano & it's only $675 a month! Plus, it's way adorable. Chris got a really good job as a nightshift manager at Racetrac. I really miss him, but it's worth it. Blah, I'm so nervous about next Friday.

The end.

Sweet love of mine.

Slow down, take a breath. This is a blessing.
You, my sweet darling, are a blessing in my life.
I love you so much.
I'll take care of you.

Where can I turn for peace?

Where can I turn for peace
Where is my solace
When other sources cease
To make me whole
When with a wounded heart
Anger, or malice
I draw myself apart
Searching my soul

Where, when my aching grows
Where, when I languish
Where, in my need to know
Where can I run
Where is the quiet hand
To calm my anguish
Who, who can understand
He, only One

He answers privately
Reaches my reaching
In my Gethsemane
Savior and Friend
Gentle the peace he finds
For my beseeching
Constant he is and kind
Love without end
________________________________________________

Father, how do I turn from Thee so fast? How can I push
Thee, and Thy Son away so quickly? I don't know, but I hate
it. I want to show Thee that I love Thee. These times are proving
to be quite difficult.
I'm scared.
It's my own fault, though.
The consequences of sin are hardly easy to bear.

I really hope that Christopher does well on his test on Monday
(I thought it was Tuesday). The job as a police dispatcher pays
pretty well. We need the money so bad. That's an understatement.
We're getting married in 183 days, and we have 0 dollars.
I'm not kidding.
What with me being on probation and all--that makes it near
impossible for me to get a job because everywhere does background
searches. I'm so baffled that I'm paying now for a crime I committed
in October of 2007.
The consequences of sin are hardly easy to bear.
A taste of my own medicine.
I don't care if we hardly have any furniture. I just want to live,
somewhere, with Christopher. I don't want to be away from my
soon-to-be eternal companion longer than I have to be.
Even now, it's so hard. I hate having to say "goodbye" at night,
when I'd much rather just sleep in his (ridiculously comfortable) bed.
Chris, just marry me now. Do it.

Okay, so since this is "supposed" to be like a journal, I guess I'll tell
you what I did today.
Adam woke me up this morning at 7 (even though school was canceled)
with a startled grunt--he obviously did not know that I had spent the night.
I couldn't fall back asleep because Chris' couch literally kills my back.
So, Christopher saved me by letting me sleep in his room.....for five more
hours. Ridiculous. You know what else is ridiculous? I pretty much ate
an entire pizza by myself. Also, I could have eaten more.
Blah, blah, blah. My life is so boring.
Anyways, Chris went to work, I drove home, I bought celery, and did Wii Fit.
Now, I will do homework for 5 and a half hour until it's time to "wake up."
That's right, world. All. Nighter.

You're all I want, You're all I've ever needed.

"Help me know that You are near."

__________________________________________

I love each day with Christopher more and more. I love being
shocked each time my love for him grows more, and so much
more than I started with. I love the way it progresses, and the
way that he feels it grow too. I just said the lamest thing ever
to him (via aim, no doubt):

mylipsdonttouch (12:13:59 AM): You're so handsome--everything about you is everything I could ever want in a man. I don't care about money, I'm happy with you. I'm SO happy with you. You are my sweetest prayer, answered. An eternal gift to me, for choosing the right.
Cudlee Man (12:14:27 AM): thank you
mylipsdonttouch (12:15:09 AM): I mean it. There is only you for me.
Cudlee Man (12:15:56 AM): I know
Cudlee Man (12:16:01 AM): I feel the same way about you
mylipsdonttouch (12:17:46 AM): Gosh, I am so in love with you.
mylipsdonttouch (12:17:56 AM): I hope everybody gets to feel like this.
mylipsdonttouch (12:18:01 AM): I wish they could.

I wasn't trying to be cocky when I said "An eternal gift to me, for
choosing the right," but we did meet at my baptism and start going
out two weeks later. I feel that way. Being with him is a reward. How
do I deserve him? - throws up - I'm much too sappy.

I love Sundays--the Testimonies of others, and the strengthening of our
own. The Fellowship. The reverence of my peers as the Sacrament is being
passed. We might be rowdy sometimes, outside of Church (sometimes
inside), but something beautiful happens when the Sacrament is passed.
This might sound weird, but I'm always reminded of a lullaby. It doesn't
put me to sleep, but it relaxes me, and I feel the Spirit strongly tugging
on my heart. I remember you, I know you, my Jesus. Rather, instead of
making me drowzy, it awakes the spirit within me, making it dance.
How may I be more like Thee, Lord? I want to. I wish I was stronger. I
mess up too much, and I haven't been a good example to my peers. My
wish is to show them my heart. I want to show all my love for them.
I want to be a teacher to Chris, as I want him to be for me.
It shouldn't be one-sided; we can be examples to eachother.
If you serve Heavenly Father & share the Gospel, you are a Missionary.
We are here to spread a message of Love, and give hope to the weary.
I want to be better.
I really do.
My heart longs to be more like my perfect, beautiful Savior's, but quickly
gives into the flesh. Daddy, please show me the way.

I know that God is my Heavenly Father, and that He loves me so much.
I am His little girl, and when I hurt, His heart breaks for me. He longs for
the day when I can be with Him again. I know this.

My Savior, He can move the mountains.

"Be careful little eyes what you see
It's the second glance that ties your hands as darkness pulls the strings
Be careful little feet where you go
For it's the little feet behind you that are sure to follow

It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day
It's a slow fade, it's a slow fade

Be careful little ears what you hear
When flattery leads to compromise, the end is always near
Be careful little lips what you say
For empty words and promises lead broken hearts astray

It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day

The journey from your mind to your hands
Is shorter than you're thinking
Be careful if you think you stand
You just might be sinking

It's a slow fade when you give yourself away
It's a slow fade when black and white have turned to gray
Thoughts invade, choices are made, a price will be paid
When you give yourself away
People never crumble in a day
Daddies never crumble in a day
Families never crumble in a day

Oh be careful little eyes what see
Oh be careful little eyes what you see
For the Father up above is looking down in love
Oh be careful little eyes what you see"

________________________________________________

I was listening to this song when I was driving home the other
night, and I did the craziest thing I've done in a while. I lifted my
hands to worship my Father. I haven't done that in over a year.
Like, I've forgotten. I feel like people will look at me like I'm crazy
if I do that. Does it matter? I want to give myself away, my heart
to my Savior. A lot of people think that's not reverent, but how not?
We should be "jumping for joy." Overly in Love with our Father above.
I don't want to base my faith off the way other people feel.
That's cult-like. The testimony's of others do help strengthen mine,
but I don't want it to be based of others. Do I sound selfish?
I hope not.
I want to dance for the Lord, and I want to fall on my knees for Him.

Christopher is sitting beside me, playing a game on the computer.
Awesome. By "awesome" I mean "ridiculous."

I love you.

Count your blessings, name them one-by-one.

"I just found out that life is hard." - Christopher said that to me last night.
He was right. It really is hard. Nobody told us that it would be easy. In fact,
our Heavenly Father told us quite the opposite before we came to this secular
place. We can make it easier on ourselves, though. Follow the commandments.
In doing so, we are promised great blessings. We can make the trials of life
much more bearable (barable? No, I was right) by walking through the shadows
with an open heart, always seeking the fruit of the Gospel.
I'm going through some stuff right now.
I just can't sleep at night--I think I have too much on my plate.
Well, I feel that way anyways.
I wake up/go to sleep overwhelmed, and then I hear my favorite hymn.
Listening to the Lord literally melts my troubles away.
Do good on earth, share your knowledge with others, go forth and prosper.

You are promised Heaven in doing so.









Christopher Eli Dunn, I love you.

"You smell like bacon"

Christopher is making me do this.
If it were my choice, I would be kickin' it old school on xanga. You're not that
lucky, though. You have to read this. By "you" I mean "Christopher." Chris,
you're probably the only person who's going to read this.

In any case:
Today I went back to college, and it smells like dead people. I'm not kidding.
And to top it off, Christopher's jacket smells like bacon. I'm walking around
with butt-chin bacon boy. Check out that alliteration.
We're getting married in 192 days.
I cannot believe how lucky I am. I love him so much.
I'm only saying this because he's sitting right next to me.
I'm actually plotting to kill him on our honeymoon, and then I'm going to
steal his dog with the floppy ears.
I'm hyper.
Oh, snap.
Ugh, and I start work today.

Chris, I love you.