Ivy is the first grandchild on both sides. Ivy has 13 aunts and uncles. She has two sets of grandparents who, while around her, make no qualms about her being the princess of the universe and most important thing to ever come to earth. As I watch her with family, I’m blown away by the amount of love. She is loved so much. Beth and I love her so much. See The Greatest Moment of My Life Every Day for further evidence.
I wonder how much this love positively impacts Ivy’s future. How much does it impact the person she will become?
As I watch her, something occurred to me recently. I was surrounded by this same love growing up. I wasn’t the first grandchild on either side, but I was surrounded by aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, and grandparents that loved and adored me. Love was poured out upon me without measure as a baby. Not only was I loved by those I could see, but I was made to know that God and so many I couldn’t see also loved and cared about me.
While watching Ivy, it occurred to me how lucky and blessed I was to be surrounded by all that love.
How much was I positively impacted by the love I was surrounded by? How much did it shape who I am today?
Not all children are given this great gift.
It was a humbling thought. It’s humbling to consider all that I’ve been given. If I ever get prideful about any good qualities I may have, I can quickly look at all the attention, direction, and love I’ve been given in my life and realize there is nothing to be prideful of. I have been afforded much.
This used to be a daunting scripture. Now it is a great responsibility, and a great blessing.
As I’ve gotten older, I have become more aware of how blessed I was to be raised with the light of the gospel of Jesus Christ in my life. That is why I write this blog. That is why I try to talk to friends, family, coworkers, etc. about the Book of Mormon. That’s why I share my testimony of Jesus Christ.
I am grateful for The Family A Proclamation to the World for what is teaches authoritatively and without reservation about the importance of the family unit. My family unit has blessed my life in so many ways. I wish every child could be loved like I was, like I still am, like Ivy is.
God expects me to share the love I’ve been given. Not in a prideful way, but with a humble recognition of how lucky I truly am.
The two great commandments are to love and to love. When you receive love, you must give love. That’s what God asks from us.
There’s a serious question/joke every new parent has heard at least 100 times. Are you getting any sleep?
Why are we asked this question?
Because it’s a REAL concern.
Ivy trying to eat my hand when she should be sleeping
So, for all those wondering, how has our sleep been? I wrote about the First 48 Hours. How have the first five months gone? In a blur would be one way to answer.
I could go on for a while about sleep training and how much work and effort Beth has put in. This isn’t a mommy blog so I won’t go into all the detail. I will say Beth has done an awesome job helping Ivy to sleep. She usually puts her down between 7pm-8pm. Ivy will sleep until 6:30am-7:00am with at least one wake-up in the middle of the night. Some of these wakeups just take putting the pacifier back in her mouth. Sometimes it’s an hour feeding her a bottle and helping her back to sleep.
Physically restraining a stubborn baby
Before I provide my spiritual thought on this, I will stress two points:
Ivy is pretty good overall with her sleeping. We are blessed. Beth reminds me of this. While I have no frame of reference, Beth is in touch with all the mommy’s of the world and knows that babies don’t always sleep the way Ivy does.
Beth does the heavy lifting most nights as I work in the morning.
As I proceed with my thoughts on getting sleep with a newborn, please refer back to points 1 and 2 often. Every time you’re thinking, “well Beth is doing all the work, of course you (enter your feelings about my thoughts)…” or “of course it’s not that bad, not all babies sleep like yours has!” Please refer back to those points. I am aware of how blessed we’ve been in point one, and I’ve been in point two.
That said. My thoughts.
It hasn’t been that bad. There. I said it.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s HARD. I’ll say this, I think lack of sleep isn’t as bad as interrupted sleep. There’s something about having to get up every 2 hours in the middle of the night, even if it’s quick and you can go back to sleep. That’s what made the first couple months so difficult.
I recently heard another father describe the newborn sleeping phase as something like advanced sleep deprivation training for the military. As he said that, I thought, “huh, I don’t think it was THAT bad” (see point 1!).
Leading up to Ivy’s birth, I made some big changes to everyday habits of mine. For one, I’ve cut out sugary drinks completely. For those who know me, that included Hawaiian Punch or soda with lunch and dinner. That’s A LOT of sugar. I cut out the juice and soda about 18 months ago.
Leading up to Ivy’s birth I read a book that led to two other changes. I started doing a breathing exercise once or twice a day. According to this book it’s the single most important thing anyone could do to immediately improve their health. The other thing this book prompted me to start doing was change my breakfast habits. I’ve always had breakfast every day no matter what. My breakfast every morning is usually cereal and milk. My cereal is most often not of the healthy variety. Berry Colossal Crunch (Cap’n Crunch knockoff) and Cinnamon Toasters (Cinnamon Toast Crunch knockoff) are still in my kitchen from our last order before I changed this habit. Instead of artificial sugar for breakfast, I’ve transitioned to fruit every morning. Usually grapefruit and blueberries, apples, oranges, or bananas.
For those keeping score, I’ve cut out Hawaiin Punch, soda, and cereal in the form of straight sugar.
For those of you wondering if I still eat candy. Emphatic YES. Maybe one day this can be cut down in my life. We’re not there yet.
As I pondered on the past 5 months, and the difficulty, something occurred to me. Like I said above, I don’t think it’s been that bad. Difficult, not debilitating. As I thought about this, I thought about a scripture.
And I will also ease the burdens which are put upon your shoulders, that even you cannot feel them upon your backs, even while you are in bondage; and this will I do that ye may stand as witnesses for me hereafter, and that ye may know of a surety that I, the Lord God, do visit my people in their afflictions.
And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethren were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord.
I think this is the most I’ve ever related to this scripture. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like for burdens to be made light. The lack of sleep should be killing me. I have to be on-call every few weeks for work. A call at 3 in the morning that would take 2 minutes used to infuriate me. It would ruin my night and the whole next day. Now a 3am-4am feeding session is a pretty regular occurrence.
What explains that I haven’t gone into a fit of rage? For one, I love Ivy passionately. That helps. But I can’t help but feel like my burdens have been made light. Heavenly Father knows my prayers have picked up, needing this assistance.
I’ve wondered how the change in my eating habits has helped my energy. Does God miraculously give us more energy and uplift us? He can, of course. I believe more often He would like to help us by allowing us to help ourselves. I believe these new habits were inspired and I was guided to them. I believe it has lightened my burdens, and God continues to lighten my burdens.
I’m still working on the cheerfully and patient parts. That I could always improve on. But I am grateful for God and His help these first few months. I’ve felt His presence and assistance every day.
In the end, all the lack of sleep in the world is worth that smile.
“We need to wait for a helicopter. It’s 2 hours by road to the nearest hospital. You might have internal bleeding in your brain. You might die before we could get you there.”
I was in the back of an ambulance for the first time. It’s an interesting thing to wonder if you’re being melodramatic about dying and then being told by an EMT that you might die. It becomes a real possibility, if it wasn’t already.
My family rented ATVs over the weekend. We rented a cabin and stayed in Duck Creek, near Cedar City, Utah. We had the ATVs for four hours. My family went out first while Beth and I stayed at the cabin with Ivy. Then Beth and I swapped in for my mom and sister.
There were nine of us total and three ATVs. Two of the ATVs held four people and one of them held two. When Beth and I swapped in I drove with Beth in the front seat, my dad and brother in the back seat. We drove to Mammoth caves and explored. After 30 or so minutes looking at the caves, we went back to the ATVs to off road for our last 90 minutes before the ATVs had to be returned.
Moments before the accident
Beth hadn’t driven so we made her drive. My brother Garrick and his girlfriend Arielle rode in the back. We reminded Beth that if you’re not flipping the ATV you’re not trying. My uncle Jon led in the two-seater and my brother Dresdan drove the other four-seater behind them. We took up the rear so Beth could go at her own pace and not feel the pressure of Dresdan bearing down on her.
I had one glove off because I was eating airheads from my pocket. Beth was driving as cautiously as expected and the other two vehicles got ahead of us. I had a thought cross my mind: ‘I bet it would be safer to have no seatbelt on. It would probably be safer to be thrown out of this thing than stuck and crushed inside of it.’ I did have my seatbelt on. That thought I had was undoubtedly wrong.
I’ll describe what I remember next. Then I’ll tell the whole story from the perspective of those who stayed conscious throughout.
We were coming up on a turn. We were not going that fast. I had driven with much more reckless abandon when I was behind the wheel. We came up on this turn and Beth began to break and then we started to tip.
The next thing I remember was feeling pinned down and stuck. I couldn’t see anything. But I was stuck. My arm couldn’t move. I believe I started yelling.
The next thing I remember was the feeling of flipping over.
I still couldn’t see anything.
The next thing I remember was hearing crying and screaming from Beth. I told her I was going to be ok. It was going to be ok. I still couldn’t see anything.
The next thing I remember was moving. Jon was in the driver’s seat next to me. Someone was behind me holding something down firmly on my head.
It is fascinating how the brain works in moments of trauma. How was I thinking so clearly?
I asked if an ambulance was called and was told yes. It occurred to me, we drove way out into these trails. We were at least 30 minutes from anything. I asked who was behind me. Dresdan. It crossed my mind: the firmer whatever is on my head is being pressed down, the more likely I am to survive. I asked Dresdan to push down harder. He did, and it hurt. I asked him to push down less hard. I put my hand up and held it myself and asked Dresdan to support on top of my hand. I felt him start checking my neck and spine with his other hand. I put my right, gloved hand out the window and started flexing my fingers. I was tapping my legs repeatedly. I was acutely aware of the importance of staying awake.
I was staring through the windshield and thought I saw a crack. I stared harder and realized there was no crack, my vision was getting blurry. I was so tired. I told Jon and Dresdan that my vision was getting blurry and I was very tired. I told Dresdan to talk to me. He said something to me, and I can’t remember what it was. It wasn’t a conversation starter. I put my hand on Jon’s leg and squeezed. He put his hand on mine and held it. I asked Dresdan about the book I’d given him to read. He told me it was good and that I’d really like the one he gave me for Christmas. I talked about the book he had just read briefly, then got quiet. I was awake enough.
I asked Dresdan to give me a blessing. It was too loud. He would have to yell it. The talking I’d already done had made my head throb. I asked him to quietly give me a priesthood blessing.
I’ve always wondered how I would react at the prospect of death. It’s easy to say you don’t fear dying but what about when you actually might die?
I’ve always hoped there would be no fear, just faith.
On a destroyed ATV, soaked in my own blood, I learned the answer. I wasn’t afraid to die. While I wasn’t afraid to die something kept coming to my mind on repeat. My daughter is 6 weeks old. I want to see her again. Beth was driving, she can’t live with this guilt. I love my daughter more than anything in the world, I need to see her again. I love Beth so much and can’t have her live with this pain. I want to see my daughter again. I love my wife.
Beth’s cries in that moment of blackness were in my mind. I could hear her grief. Could she live with this? I might die. Probably not. I was conscious. I was awake. Dresdan was keeping pressure on the wound. I would be fine.
But what if I wasn’t?
In that moment I confirmed what I’d always known. The two most important things in this world are God and family. In that moment I prayed relentlessly. I believe the blessing and my prayers kept me awake. What else mattered in that moment but God and my family?
Nothing.
I wanted to see my mom again, I wanted to see my dad again, I wanted to see my brothers and sisters. More than anything I wanted to see Ivy again. It hit me, maybe I wouldn’t. I realized, just in case, I should say something that needed to be said. I told Jon he had to tell Beth that I was ok, and it wasn’t her fault. It was an accident.
We came to a crossroads in the trail. I remembered where we had come from and told Jon. Adie and Jared drove up in the two-seater and told Jon to follow them to the main road.
We got out to a main street and started driving. We came to an intersection and there was the ambulance. We pulled into a dirt lot. I was surrounded by people I didn’t know. I was asked a lot of questions. They cut my clothes off of me and told me not to move my neck if I could help it. I was able to get my seatbelt off. They asked if I could get to the stretcher. I said I could with some help. I took the couple steps to the stretcher and they buckled me in. As I was taken to the ambulance, I saw Beth. Her eye was extremely swollen. She said she was ok. I was put into the ambulance.
This is where our story started. The EMT told me I might die.
Oh.
Ok.
It was real then.
Still no fear. Maybe that’s natural. Maybe the panic and shock takes precedence. I don’t know, I’ve only almost died this one time. The main EMT was a young blond guy. I asked him, “Are you a member of the church, you know, we’re in Utah right?”
He told me he wasn’t, he was raised in the church but had distanced himself from it. We had a conversation about the comfort I felt having that hope. He told me that hope was a powerful thing. He told me that hope told me that even if I died today, I would see my daughter again. He told me the other EMT in the ambulance was a member of the church.
I was told we had to wait for a helicopter. The drive was too long. I might die on the way. We had to wait. I was tapping my toes repeatedly. I was doing it to stay awake. I asked the EMT, Aidan, if it was ok. He said it was a panic response, my anxiety was high. He said it was natural, but if I could take some deep breaths and calm my body, that would help.
I haven’t been meditating all this time for nothing.
I took a few deep breaths and felt my body relax. He said my vitals (I don’t know, blood pressure?) improved and I was looking good.
They asked if I wanted my clothes that they’d cut off thrown out. I told them my garment top was there and it needed to be disposed of properly. Every person I saw from then on got the message that my garment top was present, and it was important it went with me.
The helicopter arrived and I was airlifted to the hospital. I asked the man sitting with me in the helicopter if he was a member of the church. He said he was just Christian. I told him we were part of the same family. He said he loves to discuss the differences. Oh, if I could have gotten his phone number.
In the ambulance they gave me pain medicine. What a difference that made. I was also told it was ok to sleep. I don’t know if I slept, I’m sure I at least dozed off.
At one point the man nudged me and told me we were going over Zion. I turned my head best I could and looked out. My first helicopter ride could have been better. Wasn’t the worst, though.
I arrived at the hospital and was wheeled in.
I can’t emphasize enough how kind every person was to me.
From Aidan, the first person I saw at the ambulance, to the helicopter, to the hospital. Every person treated me with love.
The next bit is a blur, so much happened.
I was given more pain medicine, my skull was numbed, they tried as best they could to clean out the wound in my head and arm, I did x-rays and a CT scan.
At one point a nurse told me something I did not want to hear. She tried to see if I wanted to hear it and I misunderstood and got much more information than I wanted. She could see my skull. Cool.
Eventually they determined I didn’t need surgery. Everything was good. They could staple me up.
The doctor counted 51 staples in my head, I counted 52. He said it wasn’t often they had to use a whole stapler. I was released the same day.
Sounds like it wasn’t that bad, right? You should see me now. My head has been leaking for three straight days and my shoulder is pretty morbid. I’ll put some pictures at the bottom for the sickos in the audience.
It all ended up being fine. I lived. I’m fine.
I should have died. If a couple things didn’t happen I wouldn’t have survived.
The parts that you (and I) missed. Apparently when the ATV flipped, my brother who was sitting back and to the left of me saw my body. He thought I was literally drowning in a pool of my blood.
The other two ATVs had stopped. They said something about knowing that was a slippery turn and wanting to wait. If the other two ATVs had gone on, I’m almost sure I would have died. Them stopping was the difference between me bleeding out in a tipped over ATV and living.
I firmly believe that I am protected by angels. Not just that day, but every day. I tell Beth often that God won’t take me a minute sooner than is my time. I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that angels resided with me that day. I know the others were prompted by the spirit to stay. They were feet away when we flipped.
It is difficult to get a group of 8 people to do anything in a quick and organized fashion. Set aside the panic and fear that might have set in. I’ve never been more proud of my family than when I heard the steps they took to save my life.
My brother-in-law Jared heard me yelling and thought I was crushed. Every male in the group, my dad, Jon, Garrick, Dresdan, Jared and Easton immediately grabbed the ATV and flipped it over. Jon got in to drive. Dresdan got in behind me to keep pressure on my head. I learned later that Easton was in my ATV also.
Adie and Jared jumped in the two person ATV and drove off to get cell reception to call an ambulance.
The others got in the other ATV. Initially they were going to drive ahead also. Someone realized, since the other ATV had flipped, it might have an issue driving. They drove behind us the whole way in case the ATV I was still seat-belted into broke down.
Can you believe that? In minutes, every person in my family did exactly what was necessary. Without a moment’s hesitation they saved me.
The doctors at the hospital told me they couldn’t believe I still had my right arm. They told me they’d seen a ton of these accidents and almost every time the person’s arm is destroyed or gone. They said if I’d reached out my arm would be gone. I think the airhead I was eating might have played a part in saving my arm.
God and family.
It’s weird to look back on nearly dying.
I’m amazed at the peace I could feel in what should have been a terrifying moment. I knew if I was meant to die, I would. The only thing that mattered to me was that my wife knew I loved her and it absolutely, positively, was not her fault.
Leaving Ivy would have hurt. It would have hurt. It would have hurt. It would have hurt. But I know that she would have been so loved.
I know what’s important in this life. I’m grateful for trials and scary moments to reaffirm what I know.
God and family.
To all those that have prayed for me, thank you.
To the Hollerbach’s, thank you for sending us food the night we drove back from Utah.
Beth has been off the charts amazing since the accident. She is currently caring for a newborn and someone with a traumatic head injury. She drove us back from Utah, 7 hours, the very next day. I just wanted to get home.
Ivy slept the entire way. We had to wake her for the two stops to feed her. She would get back in her car seat and zonk out. God has blessed me with so much.
I feel it necessary, because Ivy will read this one day, to say something to her.
To my sweet girl when you were born my world stopped revolving around the sun. When I thought I might die, you were my first thought. I hope you never doubt how much I love you. You and your mom are the most important things in the world to me. Never doubt it. Because I did come close the other day. I know what’s important. I love you, Ivy. I love my family and I can’t say enough how grateful I am for them.
God and family.
The pictures below are kind of gross. View them at your own risk. I’ll keep the pictures I wish I never saw private.