I'm so behind/totally missing so many of my pregnancy updates! I have all sorts of cute outfits goin' on now that my belly is fully pregnant, but now my camera lens has been damaged and my pictures all turn out ultra fuzzy/scratchy (that's why my face looks all faded). Excuses, excuses...

ANYWHO... the Mulder family is doing quite fab. Mama and son are healthy and happy. He's jabbin and punchin and kickin and running. Always perks up when Daddy comes around. :) I am feeling healthy and energized and happy. I am in the doctor-approved weight gain zone... yay! I had to "cut back on carbs" for a while there (per Dr's advice)... It wasn't easy, but all is well. Tums are my new pocket mate. Who knew they work such wonders?!



So, as a follow up to the previous post "work tales..." (a couple below), I have another story.

I had to go to the Maude Whatley Health Clinic yesterday to sign some papers with their HR lady so I could start my clinicals. This is not is a very good part of time and is geared towards people who can not afford health care/do not have insurance.

So the secretary let her know I was there and she told me to have a seat in the waiting room. I reluctantly sat down on the edge of my chair, trying not to contract any diseases (I know that sounds bad). People in the south like waiting rooms. Normally waiting rooms are pretty private and people keep to themselves. Not here, people strike up conversations with the person next to them, will yell half-way across the waiting room "what are you in here for?!" It's funny.

As I was sitting down I could see the middle-aged black lady sitting next to me looking at me. I knew it was just a matter of time before she struck up a convo.

30 seconds later....

"So is this your first?"

We then small talked about the baby for a few minutes...

A minute later...

"Are you mixed?"

Me, a little confused... "Like... mixed with what? But no..."

She then went on to explain how I didn't look like I was "just white" and it was due to my "complexion" as she pointed to my arm. I explained to her that I was not "mixed" with anything and tried to get her to tell me what she thought I was "mixed" with (since the girl who previously asked me that would not)...

She then told me she thought i was half-black.

Half?!!?! Black?!! I'm the whitest person I know! I was sooo bamboozled to say the least. She said she has a neice with my complexion and hair color who is mixed (but she has curly hair that's not like mine).

I have been asked this twice in the last two weeks. My theories are either I have been living here for too long and I am really starting to look black (like when you live in a foreign country for too long and start to not notice the people are Chinese/Hispanic, etc... except the opposite), or my "pregnancy aura" makes me look black, or I really do have some black in me, or these people down here are just crazy... ... ...


Sweet Sabbath

Oh, how sweet is the day of the Sabbath. (I feel like I should use correct grammar and punctuation for this post. I do know how.)

Sundays are divinely appointed and designed. A day where if we are smart enough we will listen to the commandments and not shop, study, or really work at all. To me, that sounds like the greatest day ever! Then why do we have trouble following it? Maybe six days of relentless work just is not enough for some. For me, it's plenty. We can and should work on Sundays, but nice work that is full of service and love. We can visit our friends and family members, administer to the sick or afflicted (where Dan is at this very moment, in fact), or even make cookies and deliver them to people! (That one sounds like the most fun to me.) 

Our world bombards us with crazy music, busy commercials and advertisements, immodest clothing and language, and other inappropriate things trying to squeeze their measly little way into our lives. It is nearly impossible to be a normally functioning person in society and not be affected by these influences. That's where the Sabbath comes in. One day a week we are protected from the abounding evils around us. The television stays off (unless you are watching a wholesome film of some sort), the music stays pure, and the errands get a day off. We get to be at home with our families... loving and enjoying and being happy. This day is very needed once a week. We love Sunday and are thankful that once a week we are able to take the Sacrament and remember our Savior. 

Sundays have gotten harder for me over the past two years, but I have gained an added appreciation for them. My schedule is a little odd. I work eight nights in a row and then have six nights off. So every other Sunday it's a struggle for me to get to church, let alone be pleasant and participatory. I think I have done pretty well. I go to Sacrament meeting every (99% of the time) Sunday and all three meetings 90% (maybe 85%) of the time (minus emotional breakdown nights were I simply can not function without alligator tears running down my cheeks). I have really grown to appreciate an uplifting three full hours of church. Three hours of church on no sleep and a tired body and worn-out attitude don't make for the most attentive Rachael. So every other week when I get to sleep the night before church, wake up and spend a little time getting ready, and feel like I am actually there during church is really a special treat for me. 

I wish I did not work on Sundays at all, but thankfully I am still able to go to church. We have made it work, but I have vowed to myself to never work on Sundays again. I didn't fight hard enough for it when I started my job. I know they probably could have worked around my insistence to not work on Sundays. I have learned from this experience and want to grow and become better from it. The gospel is first. Going to church every single week is of utmost importance. I won't ever let this get jumbled with worldly concerns again.

Thank you, Dan, for giving a beautiful talk today and how the little things in life really make the biggest difference. How are we supposed to have meaningful scripture study and prayers and listen to the Spirit in our lives and fight off temptation if we do not attend church on Sundays and partake of the Sacrament? This truly should be the crowning moment of our weeks. I am thankful and blessed I have the opportunity so readily available to me. :)



our song.
it's perfect.


work tales

so i'm in my patient's room trying to spray chloraseptic spray in her throat and hang antibiotics and she says...

"i don't want to be rude but...."

(now i'm anticipating the... "are you pregnant?" question...)

but no, she says...

"i don't want to be rude, but... i just have to ask..."

"are you white?"

are you white?! really?! i was in probably shock. i have never been asked anything even close to this before. i assured her that i was "white." she went on to assure me that i looked like i was "mixed." she couldn't quite figure what i was mixed with, but she was convinced that i couldn't be just white. something about my fair skin and complexion and how i just didn't look white. still doesn't quite make sense. i assured her that i wasn't offended and was just surprised at her observation.

so that was funny.

work is so, so difficult. it's tiring and frustrating and busy and hard and overwhelming and draining and everything else. but every night i pray that i can be a good nurse to my patients and i can truly say i feel like i am. i know that is a blessing to be able to know that even after everything i can still come home and know i did my best and did everything i could. i know the only reason i can continue on and keep going and trying is because my Heavenly Father strengthens me.

 i am sooo blessed.

it is humbling and unbelievable. i try every day to deserve it. and yay, i'm half-way done with my week! 4 down, 4 to go...


twenty two weeks!

i'm a little behind, considering i'm twenty-six weeks now... but i'm trying to stay on top of it. weeks go by fast! at twenty-two weeks, i was still pretty able to hide my belly, depending on my outfit. this was our first night in las vegas when we went out for our trip. by the end of the trip, i was much bigger, indeed! (or should i say, "we" were much bigger...) i love my little baby. :]


best story ever.

working my little heart out is the name of my game. it's been a lot of working. basically all i have done for the past week and a half.

my patients/coworkers are really starting to notice that i am "with child." i love the reactions and the "awwws!" and the rubbing of my belly. some people aren't too fond of it, not me. i'm soakin' it up.

half-way through my week i had a cute little 30-something bipolar, post lap. nissen lady patient. she was so strange and funny. i absolutely loved her oddness. she always had this absolutely shocked, almost frantic look on her face. so i walked into her room the first time, did my assessment, etc, etc, left, and went on with my work. second rounds came around and i slowly turned her doorknob and creaked open her door just to peek in on her respirations. she immediately woke up and said "turn da light on..." i turned the light on and explained to her that i was just checking on her and didn't need to wake her up. mid convo, she glances down at my belly and gets the most bewildered, utterly shocked, and almost upset look on her face. brows furrowed, eyes wide, so deep in thought i could not get her to budge.

i started laughing uncomfortably... "whatt?!?!!"

"what is it??!!"

she just stared with that intent look on her face. like she was thinking about something so, so hard. she stared for a good minute, then looked up at me and as sure as day said in the most matter-of-face voice...

"it's a boy."

i was overjoyed. she had a feeling about him. she said God gave her a gift to just know and she just... knows. she later explained to me how it was my first and i was married. she was completely unsurprised as i agreed. she said she could feel my spirit when i walked in and she knew i was a good person.

totally made my night!