tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8445441878483360552024-03-19T15:10:27.368-07:00The Harvey'sKarli Harveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01577399716549516965noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-844544187848336055.post-42494314579183089432016-07-21T09:30:00.001-07:002016-07-21T09:30:21.546-07:00I'm Alive<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today I'm filled with overwhelming gratitude for my health, my family, my daughter & that<span style="font-size: large;"> I'm Alive!!!</span> </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Two years ago today I was in the worst car accident I've ever experienced. A lot has happened since then and I often think about July 21, 2014 as the day my life changed forever. I'm so grateful that even though I no longer have a spleen, and have a ginormous scar, I still have good health. Ryan told me in Peru they say, "Si no tienes salud, no tienes nada" which means "without your health, you have nothing." I have experienced this and it's true, if you are constantly suffering from illness then nothing else matters. You can't enjoy life! I'm so glad I went through this so I could better appreciate my body when it's healthy. I've started to focus on nutrition so much more. You only get one body & one life to live here on earth! Look down at your body. It's so perfect (even when you think it's not good enough), it's yours, you can choose your actions, what you eat, what you wear, what you do to it, how you live. Enjoy your life. You're alive!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I feel really strongly about cell phone use while driving. Ryan gets embarrassed because I'll roll down my window and yell at people who are on their phones if I see them. They have no idea the harm that can be caused by their selfish, thoughtless actions! At 70 mph, a vehicle travels 103 feet every second. That means when you look down for "just a second" on the freeway, you've just traveled over 100 feet without even looking at the road! I want my accident to raise awareness that texting or using your phone while driving can be deadly! An article on caranddriver.com compared it to driving drunk & showed the response statistics of people texting and people who are drunk. Read the article here:<a href="http://www.caranddriver.com/features/texting-while-driving-how-dangerous-is-it-the-results-page-2">Texting While Driving</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here's an update two years later from my previous post:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The police never found the man driving the Ford Escape that ran me off the road. The license plate was an old, unregistered Texas plate that was illegally attached to a brand new car. I've come to terms that justice isn't always served in this life. If you've watched the movie "The Five People You Meet in Heaven," I'm certain this man is one of my five people.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The Brigham City Police Chief did contact me a few months later and said they found the woman EMT who helped me in the ambulance. She was off duty, saw the accident and pulled over to help. I was overcome with emotion at her kind act. I got her name and address and sent her a card and a hand-stitched heart thanking her for making that day more bearable for me. She was a real angel in my life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I had a pretty normal, healthy pregnancy. Liah June Harvey was born about 3 weeks early after I spent a month on "bed rest" unable to work. My poor little abdomen with its not-quite-healed incision held up better than anyone expected! Because I was a "high risk" pregnancy I got to have about 7 ultrasounds and see my baby all the time. I'll be sad for my next pregnancy when I'll only have two!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_5ueaZKr7n9hvEn5EGdHVNmX7xyHUi8jt9yuocsg38m18VCpZlrwjWofSwWj3xY6a8N8f2MVpGsc2xKHt5XSHrfqYYBvxBeLdNo4tR3KshVeB79VknZL2yDNsRh2tGzsD-yKoP3hs2Js/s1600/IMG_2941.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_5ueaZKr7n9hvEn5EGdHVNmX7xyHUi8jt9yuocsg38m18VCpZlrwjWofSwWj3xY6a8N8f2MVpGsc2xKHt5XSHrfqYYBvxBeLdNo4tR3KshVeB79VknZL2yDNsRh2tGzsD-yKoP3hs2Js/s320/IMG_2941.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> We visited Dr. Lance Bryce last year and will probably go see him again soon. He'll be a life-long friend since he saved both our lives. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-OJjQgFcKSbhxpzCtbtSwnhE2v08gl-r4PIH3vKtif8Tg9xzIJc0T1WuXaQDbl6m93kznYsboeHvAcB-bkQAjwnl7qTYkJj3gmXiXmaTMhxUjIqpfGORpD6AY2zRMM_azaqukY3WiJNw/s1600/IMG_0722.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-OJjQgFcKSbhxpzCtbtSwnhE2v08gl-r4PIH3vKtif8Tg9xzIJc0T1WuXaQDbl6m93kznYsboeHvAcB-bkQAjwnl7qTYkJj3gmXiXmaTMhxUjIqpfGORpD6AY2zRMM_azaqukY3WiJNw/s320/IMG_0722.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> While I am forever changed from this experience, I have changed for the good. I know now that life is precious more than I've ever known it before. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Trials are hard. I see life as a journey of mountains and valleys. When you are in the valleys you can't always feel the sunshine on your face. But if you keep climbing you will find the sun again. You will feel peace and be able to look down upon where you climbed from with pride that you made it out again. I couldn't have done any of it without Christ in my life, as my Brother and guide. I know He is there to grab your hands and lift you up as you keep climbing out of your own valleys. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxezYAATuvKdtzsVYiTbPh1uMTUGGuhOr-bS0IQTznpK7glDPS40gaZrYeJV8ixjbxzOOegs993B-Eo6h4yoW-TTr83E6D_NiQS7JMzHuh99MhFn52X-lAkkdgBRleqWFMAqif8mWUpzA/s1600/christ+helping.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxezYAATuvKdtzsVYiTbPh1uMTUGGuhOr-bS0IQTznpK7glDPS40gaZrYeJV8ixjbxzOOegs993B-Eo6h4yoW-TTr83E6D_NiQS7JMzHuh99MhFn52X-lAkkdgBRleqWFMAqif8mWUpzA/s320/christ+helping.jpg" width="245" /></a></span></div>
Karli Harveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01577399716549516965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-844544187848336055.post-40939933236538818842014-08-24T19:32:00.001-07:002014-08-24T19:32:35.303-07:00How Am I Gonna Be an Optimist About This?<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>“How Am I Gonna Be an Optimist About This?” – Pompeii by
Bastille</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Six weeks ago I was driving on I-15
to meet some of my wonderful friends and classroom aides for lunch in Ogden. I
was in the fast lane when I noticed a small SUV coming into my lane. I honked
repeatedly, but he continued to come over right toward the passenger side of my
smaller Acura TL. My mom was talking to me on Bluetooth and I said, “What is this
guy doing? Stay in your lane!” </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL29YUo0Dn5AjpYw1eeND0iovDUJMJ4s8xThoiRfJkf8Kl4pS9zVCRSqQB_-cemSMTWhROeasItwffbxOJzc4g_6rLMD3usxWVFpYZISTwuOa3eNxd_MaNNdumg_gOLIm0l551VidZKyM/s1600/IMG_2076.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL29YUo0Dn5AjpYw1eeND0iovDUJMJ4s8xThoiRfJkf8Kl4pS9zVCRSqQB_-cemSMTWhROeasItwffbxOJzc4g_6rLMD3usxWVFpYZISTwuOa3eNxd_MaNNdumg_gOLIm0l551VidZKyM/s1600/IMG_2076.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I looked up and saw a hand holding
a cell phone above the steering wheel. There was no shoulder on the bridge near
Willard Bay where we were driving, so I hit the guardrail going around 75 miles
per hour. The crash was deafening. The side airbag went off. My ears were
ringing and all I could see was white light. I knew I was in the road, though,
in the way of oncoming traffic. I pressed the gas to get over to the right side
of the road out of the way. As I slid (because my tire was twisted inward and I
had no control), I saw the SUV get back on the road and speed away. I saw his license plate number,
however, and began saying it over and over and over out loud. I stopped on the
right shoulder out of the way. Safe. My mom said, “Karli, did you crash?
Karli!” I just said, “Mama… mama.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I knew I was hurt. I couldn’t breathe well and my heart was
racing out of my chest. I began to shake as I watched car after car pass me by
on the freeway. I couldn’t talk. I hung up. My fingers couldn’t press the buttons on my phone to dial
911. After 3 failed attempts, I finally heard the operator say, “911, what is
your emergency?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I will say with complete confidence
that I had the help of God to stay conscious during this conversation. She
asked for my name and age and location. I told her everything with detail and
accuracy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Are you injured?” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Yes. My left side. I am 7 weeks pregnant and I think I am
bleeding. I need an ambulance.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She repeatedly said, “Stay with me until the paramedics get
there. Someone is coming.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I trusted that someone would come. It was the longest 15
minutes of my life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I saw a cop with flashing lights speed by me, pulling over,
until he backed up & jumped out to talk to me. The driver’s side door
wouldn’t open. I unlocked the other doors. Several paramedics opened the doors
and I slid over into the passenger seat. They secured my neck and told me not
to move. I told them again, “I’m 7 weeks pregnant and I think I’m miscarrying
right now.” I started to pull my clothes off. An officer said, “You’re not
bleeding.” I said, “I think I’m bleeding internally, then.” I could feel it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My phone rang. It was Ryan. I answered and said, “Ryan.” But
I couldn’t talk anymore. I was losing breath. The officer kept asking me my
name and address over and over. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Stay with me” he would say when my eyes would close.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Four people, three men and a woman,
dragged me from the car. They told me not to move and they would do all the
work. They strapped me to a stretcher and I was in agony.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started yelling, “It hurts! Can you
loosen me?” They told me to hold still and breathe. I gritted my teeth. I
didn’t cry. I had absolutely no thought of death. I just knew I had to get off
this board!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They dragged me down a steep
embankment to the nearest frontage road. The woman was nearest my head,
carrying me, and kept saying, “It’ll be okay.” “There is a bump coming” or “How
old are you?” She wanted me to stay awake.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the ambulance was a man who told
me he was going to set up an IV. He didn’t know which pain medication he could
safely give a pregnant lady, so I didn’t get any.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The woman knelt by my head and held
my hand. She looked into my eyes the whole time. Her eyes were bright green and
her hair was light brown. She asked me what my husband did, where I work, where
I was going before I crashed, and told me, “I got into a car accident when I
was a lot more pregnant than you and my baby was fine. The doctor said he was
safer than me all cushioned in there.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She was so nice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have never been in so much pain
in my life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We arrived a Brigham City Community
Hospital and somewhere in the very back of my mind I was thinking, “There’s a
hospital in Brigham City?” I thought we were going to Ogden.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_2sQrrGNcHkbWeaQhd632U8jXeU_EZsDOYPmYg50_kRcdR18nSUuQD60pgtuPlorbn8wb55t-M8Fu09nd0f6inpnSV0ozpcF-gsLSiczfq7R7u0wicfVqKb_AWKdFDxqhtQLjyd143Zs/s1600/BCCH.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_2sQrrGNcHkbWeaQhd632U8jXeU_EZsDOYPmYg50_kRcdR18nSUuQD60pgtuPlorbn8wb55t-M8Fu09nd0f6inpnSV0ozpcF-gsLSiczfq7R7u0wicfVqKb_AWKdFDxqhtQLjyd143Zs/s1600/BCCH.jpg" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When they opened the doors to get
me out, Ryan was there. I was mad at him. I said, “How fast did you drive?!” He
didn’t answer. I knew we took a while but there’s no way we took 45 minutes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the hospital I yelled, “Get me
off this board!” They rolled me off of it onto a bed. Someone started cutting
my clothes off. Someone took my jewelry off. Ryan held my hand and said
sweetly, “It will all be ok, Kar.” He seemed pretty confident.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A doctor tried to do an ultrasound.
I thought it was to see the baby, but all I heard was, “There’s too much
blood.” A surgeon came in and said, “We need to do CT scans. It will take 30
minutes.” They wheeled me away.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They made me sign a paper that said
I knew this machine could hurt my unborn baby. The surgeon said, “Without Mama,
there’s no baby!” I signed it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the scans I had to hold my
breath, put my arms up, breathe deeply. Do everything that hurt the most,
basically. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After the scans I saw Ryan again.
His face was white; his whole demeanor had changed. I said, “What’s wrong?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The surgeon said, “You have a level
4 spleen rupture, 4 broken ribs and a bruised lung. You need emergency surgery.
Do you have any questions.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I didn’t dare ask about my baby. I
just said, “I don’t want to feel anything.” He laughed and said, “You won’t.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I asked, “Can I have a Priesthood
blessing?” Ryan and a male nurse gave me a blessing. I felt the Spirit of the
Lord comfort me. I knew I would be safe. I felt God’s love for me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the operating room I was laid on
a hard table again. They gave me anesthesia right away, but before I was asleep
I heard them switch into emergency operation mode. And I was out.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>“Feeling my way through the darkness – guided by a beating
heart – I can’t tell where this journey will end… so wake me up when it’s all
over.” – Wake Me Up<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>by Avicii </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I woke up 3 hours later. I don’t
remember that much of the next few days, so this next part is the recollections
of my husband, Ryan and my Mother, Julie.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When I woke up I asked, “Where’s my
mom?” and continued asking for her until I saw her. (Obviously my mom liked
that a lot). I opened my eyes at one point and saw my daddy. I said, “I’m so
grateful I live in America.” My dad laughed, but agreed. (I don’t remember
saying this…).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I remember the tubes. My catheter
had been inserted improperly so the first thing I said in my hospital room was,
“I need to pee!!!” I yelled it. Loud. I don’t know what they did or where I
peed, but I went back to sleep. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then I remember the tube down my
throat sucking everything out of my stomach. Someone explained this to me and I
remember thinking, “So I’m going to die.” …because they were taking out all of
my food and not letting me eat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I said, “My throat hurts.” Someone
gave me a green popsicle. I asked for green, I know that. Apparently, I fell
asleep eating it and no one noticed until it had melted everywhere. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then people came. Lots of people.
People I loved but couldn’t recognize. Someone posted that I was hurt on
Facebook. Then all of our phones started ringing like crazy and wouldn’t stop.
I yelled, “Take it off Facebook! Leave me alone!” <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Actually. I yelled, “What the H*LL
was he doing? Take it down right now!” I don’t remember saying that… so, yeah…</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My phone rang and Ryan handed it to
me and said, “It’s Sarah.” I started to cry and said, “Did you hear about the
baby?!” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My mom grabbed the phone away from
me and said, “Sorry, she’s on drugs.” They didn’t let me talk to anyone else
after that. I didn’t know anything about the baby at that point, anyway!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the second day, the surgeon came
to see me. He said to Ryan, “Sorry, ‘Dad’, but I held your baby before you did.
I lifted up her uterus and everything looked perfect. There was bruising and
bleeding elsewhere, but the baby looked great.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“So my baby is ok?” I cried. “Yep.
He’s doing ok! We’re monitoring your HCG levels and they keep going up.” I went
back to sleep.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the third day, I think, I
finally looked down. I felt my belly. I felt the 35 staples there and knew I
would never be the same.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;">Ryan stayed with me every night and
my mom stayed with me every day.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Z14ZuwYIqf1-sqsTWgHlF82bqurzirINa7gfU3Zni9afWDX7A0Oi_mzWXmpY8bxJ286gZa9mO1XlHdtTmdOipseOnC0Qbg0sJaQlGFGnAFdNmUvFdluNG2-gZkAoboPYT1Fn_RQGv_A/s1600/IMG_6633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7Z14ZuwYIqf1-sqsTWgHlF82bqurzirINa7gfU3Zni9afWDX7A0Oi_mzWXmpY8bxJ286gZa9mO1XlHdtTmdOipseOnC0Qbg0sJaQlGFGnAFdNmUvFdluNG2-gZkAoboPYT1Fn_RQGv_A/s1600/IMG_6633.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the fifth day I was walking again. We saw who I now knew
to be Dr. Lance Bryce, my wonderful surgeon, in the hallway. He said, “Good
news! Your HCG levels nearly doubled today.” I made it past the 48 hours he had
set for me to miscarry. He said, “You now have probably a 90-95% chance of carrying
this pregnancy full term since the baby survived the trauma.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I cried again. I said, “Thank you.
You saved my life and my baby’s life.” He said, “You are keeping your baby
alive!” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdIky-jfm0OrgPUW7w1lctBy22UgzOSi1KcAOhtBqVMWWH32CnRfUozZxWg_2qv78z2MkuM44GYi_gIqy_sayVmOQGiAauhpJfyoKVw86reY6Lq-XPF8HlxIcw1NIO30q23wLF4jtCXpw/s1600/IMG_6608.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdIky-jfm0OrgPUW7w1lctBy22UgzOSi1KcAOhtBqVMWWH32CnRfUozZxWg_2qv78z2MkuM44GYi_gIqy_sayVmOQGiAauhpJfyoKVw86reY6Lq-XPF8HlxIcw1NIO30q23wLF4jtCXpw/s1600/IMG_6608.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> On the last day, after so much
awfulness, I started feeling so grateful. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;">I made a list of the tender mercies
that we had received:</span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-left: 1.0in; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyTGAQzzbM4PRq38hpbpEPaZvXW1QUKuavpCKviTDt0g-YWAev1p-IHJBOBZ_fnLRh-FD1aiIFzukvN6k8d7RefxqoxyYPOCHqIhyphenhyphenpZce2lUFH4gdGGP4YVdnLxrS0GbeyFbV1klj96xk/s1600/IMG_6630.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyTGAQzzbM4PRq38hpbpEPaZvXW1QUKuavpCKviTDt0g-YWAev1p-IHJBOBZ_fnLRh-FD1aiIFzukvN6k8d7RefxqoxyYPOCHqIhyphenhyphenpZce2lUFH4gdGGP4YVdnLxrS0GbeyFbV1klj96xk/s1600/IMG_6630.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">GF Mac & Cheese</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">Our baby was saved</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">I was brought to the best surgeon at the nicest
hospital</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">Amazing food. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">The cooks went out of their way to
make me gluten free food and even bought me a gluten free cake</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">We received a recall notice for our 2003 Acura
TL a few months ago, stating that the side airbags were defective and shot
shards of metal when they went off, causing serious injury and death.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">We got the airbags fixed two months ago before
they went off</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">Ryan sold the car for parts</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">All that got hurt was my spleen and ribs. It
could have been my hands or brain or face or something life-altering</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">The surgeon saved my baby!!!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">My dad’s accident earlier this year met the
insurance deductible and covers my surgery and hospital costs 90%</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">I feel closer to God than I ever have. I know He
loves me and things happen for a reason</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">I have the most understanding boss who visited
me and made me feel important and told me I will always have my job</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">Dr. Lance Bryce saved my life</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">I was a millimeter away from having a blood
transfusion but I didn’t have to have one. I lost a liter of blood.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">I felt angels with me while on the phone during
the accident</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">I have hundreds of people who have told me they
care for me</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">My scars won’t show unless I wear a bikini</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">I recognize the beauty in life more than ever
before</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-size: 7pt;">
</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: -0.25in;">I get to share my story about God’s love for me
with others</span></li>
</ul>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, “How am I gonna be an optimist
about this?” I will continue to remember all of the tender mercies of the Lord,
focus on the good and be grateful that we get to have this little baby in our
lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTrnmeca3o2KcquCgaU9Qq3V5WTremr_zmkrH3J6kms0dzaGykY5SiZyd4u8P0cxoBHfvS3GChqPtK9ePcZXZ5IDKXJ6xQpZr6UdmlAWk6uIeyWMnPFQjLkGqTH8MnkWIJ_0w4yHFTOy8/s1600/IMG_6612.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTrnmeca3o2KcquCgaU9Qq3V5WTremr_zmkrH3J6kms0dzaGykY5SiZyd4u8P0cxoBHfvS3GChqPtK9ePcZXZ5IDKXJ6xQpZr6UdmlAWk6uIeyWMnPFQjLkGqTH8MnkWIJ_0w4yHFTOy8/s1600/IMG_6612.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The day before we left the
hospital, Dr. Bryce met with us and told us, “You are stable now, but you don’t
realize how close you were to death. And you may never realize.” He said I was
about 30 seconds from death. He couldn’t do the laparoscopic surgery for this
reason. I now have a 12” incision that runs from my sternum down past my navel.
It will forever serve as a reminder that I’m Alive. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Recovery at home hasn’t been easy,
but I know it will be worth it. Nine days after the accident, we got to hear
our baby’s heartbeat. We will find out the gender the first week of October. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCjFfyzhu8JM8p18DZ7xFwA3wBjRhU8YXiH4p14gDvLUuRWBUaADJ3uQp42qIO50Z4XbFkZkZncDFVZCYAY_28QmxqLd-jt60I5uuUdYPS2y-Epk6aRp8l2-n0YVyw-DKgUpJAm1uyyEE/s1600/IMG_6831.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCjFfyzhu8JM8p18DZ7xFwA3wBjRhU8YXiH4p14gDvLUuRWBUaADJ3uQp42qIO50Z4XbFkZkZncDFVZCYAY_28QmxqLd-jt60I5uuUdYPS2y-Epk6aRp8l2-n0YVyw-DKgUpJAm1uyyEE/s1600/IMG_6831.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He looks like Pinocchio, but that's just his hand!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I called the Brigham City emergency
services office last week to ask for the names of people who helped me in the
Ambulance. The fire chief looked up my file and told me some names. I said,
“There was a girl. Who was the girl in the Ambulance?” He said, “There wasn’t a
girl with you in the Ambulance.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don’t know if their reports are
off or not. But I do know angels are real. I have felt the Lord’s love for me
through this experience. I know one day all of us will be made whole through
the Atonement of Christ. I won’t have these scars. I echo the words of Hedwig
Biereichel when she spoke concerning her trials, </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-indent: 0.5in;">“I didn’t keep a testimony
through those [difficult] times – the testimony kept me.”</span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>“But if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like
nothing’s changed at all?” </i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i>– Pompeii by Bastille </i></span></div>
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Karli Harveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01577399716549516965noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-844544187848336055.post-75235207885268152462012-12-14T21:01:00.006-08:002012-12-14T21:17:40.233-08:00Love in the Form of Art. <span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So, I like to do massive creative art projects that take up the whole kitchen table/living room floor/where ever I decide to begin working...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I always make things for my husband Ryan. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">He, however, consistently reminds me that "Your art projects are more for YOU than for ME..." </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And, he is right. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I so look forward to Christmas, his birthday and our wedding anniversary just so that I can concoct something new and exciting.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I have yet to blog about any of these fine works of art, so here they are... for your viewing & copying pleasure.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiriSefIVMv6zECJTBGAX-uskvGPQ3UdxZUO7I_UrPIbL0_4sI9kfEHotWwuCJa7D9tE-wmn0fXuAFgPY59A8YDFdQ8ZRpIVlbvmk6KPsYDDFeGYgFl3nFyWlkBfhx58C_euJSp7jTf4o8/s1600/IMG_0594.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiriSefIVMv6zECJTBGAX-uskvGPQ3UdxZUO7I_UrPIbL0_4sI9kfEHotWwuCJa7D9tE-wmn0fXuAFgPY59A8YDFdQ8ZRpIVlbvmk6KPsYDDFeGYgFl3nFyWlkBfhx58C_euJSp7jTf4o8/s320/IMG_0594.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Shortly after we started "officially" dating, I knew we were going to get married. Our relationship was very on/off and dragged out so long that once he asked me to be his girlfriend for reals this time, I knew it was inevitable. That's when the art projects began.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I got this idea from a roommate whose boyfriend made her a "message in a bottle" using scrap paper and a mason jar to write her love notes while she was gone all summer. I loved the idea, but went a little more formal with it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I bought lots of different types of scrapbook paper and cut them into small strips. Each day, I wrote a little note about activities we were involved in, memorable dates, future plans, and overall my feelings for Ryan. I kept these papers with me all the time - at school, work, etc. so that I would always follow through. I compiled them all in a jar I bought at Hobby Lobby, that I then decorated.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9sSL3ZEFrneNJpa2RPml9cLJCpHt-ob-_3x9SJYBDuBIhFE2xfz5jFcm22g_XSG8M1XH-Q4W4N08j7Gy_NE4NE7UrZyu2f_ltmwwStdyhZVoO69J9R8UdsNMJWKuEmrOO5bh93iIr4r8/s1600/IMG_0598.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9sSL3ZEFrneNJpa2RPml9cLJCpHt-ob-_3x9SJYBDuBIhFE2xfz5jFcm22g_XSG8M1XH-Q4W4N08j7Gy_NE4NE7UrZyu2f_ltmwwStdyhZVoO69J9R8UdsNMJWKuEmrOO5bh93iIr4r8/s320/IMG_0598.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Over the course of 8 months, I added in wrist bands from ice skating on one of our favorite dates, movie ticket stubs, and anything else memorable. When he <i>finally</i> asked me to marry him, I gave him the jar as an engagement present? That's not really normal, I know. But he loved it. We stayed up all night reading the papers and laughing until we couldn't breathe at funny memories, quotes and inside jokes. It is such a precious thing to us now. And how fun will it be for our kids to read someday?</span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;"> <b><span style="font-size: large;"> 52 REASONS I LOVE YOU</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I got this idea from a friend who sent me a picture of some playing cards with the title on the front "52 Reasons I Love You." I have seen it done where people typed out the reasons and glued them to the cards. That seemed kinda boring, so I did it this way...</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">ANNIVERSARY YEAR BOOK </span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This one was not a messy project. I did the whole thing on Walmart.com. Sounds kinda trashy, but they have a great selection of book styles and options. Most importantly, great prices. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Throughout the first year of marriage, I kept notes in my phone of funny things Ryan would say. He is one of the funniest people I know. I compiled the most memorable quotes or comments and typed them into the book next to pictures that related in some way or another. I documented little things in our daily lives, holidays, where we lived during that year, vacations we took, new additions to the family, etc. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I surprised him with it on our anniversary and we again laughed so hard we cried reading all of the quotes and reliving the memories. It will be a keepsake and a tradition for years to come. I plan on making an anniversary year book every year from now on. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The next one I can't blog about yet because it's currently wrapped under the Christmas tree. I am really really really tempted to unwrap it and take pictures of it so I can share it with all of you, but I will wait a few more weeks! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Plus, I wouldn't want Ryan to find out about it. Since, ya know, he reads my blogs all the time... right. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Anyway, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I hope this motivates whoever is reading this to do fun art projects for your family. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It really is rewarding! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">- K. H. </span></div>
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<br />Karli Harveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01577399716549516965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-844544187848336055.post-90475672123844711132012-01-18T21:34:00.000-08:002012-01-18T21:34:58.654-08:00Ball of Yarn: A Simile to Life<div>
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<center>Well, technically, it's a ball of really thick pink thread.</center></div>
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Ever since my adorable, crafty mother taught me how to crochet, I've been making baby blankets and burp rags for friends who are soon to pop. I had a 1/2 finished burp rag on the table next to the couch, and thought it would be safe there over night (or maybe I didn't take into thought its need for safety, but I should have). This morning I awoke as usual, and as I was running out the door to work, encountered this in the kitchen: </div>
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It may be hard to see in the picture, but the floor is covered with baby pink thread. Our wonderfully playful kitty, Sully, had the time of his life last night! Seriously, the time of his little kitten life. It's true, cats DO play with balls of string.</div>
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The string was completely unraveled with only a teeny, tiny bit left. </div>
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The string started over by the lamp in the living room, where it was raveled around the table legs and lamp cords, then it continued under the couch, over to the kitchen table (this is where the brunt of the mess was). It was wrapped around and around the legs of the table and chairs. Then it made a huge leap over to the opposite side of the living room where it extended under the couch, then over the couch, then around the lamp... then back to the table where the knots got thicker. Then, somehow, the ball itself was up on top of the other couch, wedged between the cushions. How did he do it? I do not know. When I found the mess, I looked around and found him tangled in the mess, laying on his back, paws in the air, gnawing on a piece of thread. </div>
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Now is the part where I relate this back to life. </div>
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As I spent about 2 hours re-raveling the thread into a nice round ball, I'd be twisting and twirling the thread, find a huge knot, and find my way through it. At that point I'd think, "Whew! I'm home-free!" only to follow the trail across the living room and find another huge knot under the couch... then think, "Oh good, this is almost over..." Then I'd follow the line back to the kitchen table where another huge knot was hiding from view. As I tediously re-traced Sully's steps, I realized how all of us have trials we go through, and a lot of times, when we think it's over, it's not. And we can't move on with life until it is...just as I couldn't continue crocheting my cute little blanket until the string was usable again. Luckily the string was all salvageable. I could have had to cut it, or just throw it away and start over. But either way, I would still end up finishing the blanket. Just like with life... sometimes you just have to cut the ties and start over, but you still fair well if you focus on following your dreams. I realized, too, as I was cleaning up this mess that my sweet Sullivan made, that I didn't feel angry. In fact, I found the whole scenario quite entertaining. I thought, "Some people would get rid of a cat over a little thing like this." That, also, is just like life... through trials, I can choose to be mad, or I can choose to think it's hysterical. One thing's for sure, we're keeping Sully.<br />
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<center>There's my simile to life.</center>
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<br /></div>Karli Harveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01577399716549516965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-844544187848336055.post-81229850192337284342011-12-12T22:36:00.000-08:002011-12-12T22:38:03.809-08:00Sullivan HarveyIt's about time I write another post. Despite all of the craziness going on with finals and such, I just want to share with all of you the very furry, very obnoxious love of our lives: <br />
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<center>Sullivan Harvey.</center><br />
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<center>Enough Said.</center><center>I'm happy to report (but not really) that even after losing his manhood a week ago, Sully is still going strong and climbs, chews, knocks over, or licks <center>EVERYTHING. </center><center>People might think we're crazy for taking on a 15-20 year commitment within the first few months of marriage, but hey, it's a lot better than getting pregnant! </center><center>Our parents and friends keep asking, "So, you still go that cat?" And we sigh and nod, with the surety that as much as our furniture wishes we'd kick him to the curb, he's a part of our family now and always will be. </center><center>Here's to you, Sully, and all of the hair elastics you'll continue to steal off the bathroom counter. </center></center>Karli Harveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01577399716549516965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-844544187848336055.post-84525460642280076052011-11-12T17:38:00.001-08:002011-11-12T18:18:49.952-08:00The Blessing of Family<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #ffe599; font-size: large;"></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #ffe599; font-size: large;">So my family is going to read this and thing, "Psh, yeah right! Karli doesn't feel that way!" But believe me you guys, I do. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #f9e49f; font-family: Papyrus;"> </span></span><br />
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<center><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #f9e49f; font-family: Papyrus;"> I love my family and my in-laws! </span></span></center><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #f9e49f; font-family: Papyrus;">This week I've seen and heard some
pretty horrific things.</span><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #f9e49f; font-family: Papyrus;">At the school where I teach, I was
walking in early in the morning and a student was being dropped off early by
his dad. This student isn't in my class, but he does have some physical
disabilities that require him to walk with arm braces. As he was getting out of
the car, his father (I'm assuming) started yelling at him about missing some
homework paper .... and I mean YELLING. The boy fell to the cold ground,
sitting in the street, and started to cry. Then the father called him some very
very mean choice words. I didn't approach the scene, but now I wish I would
have. As I walked inside the school, I totally started crying. It just upset me
so much that a parent (or guardian) could treat a child that way! He's only
about 8 years old! Sadly, there's just not much anyone can or will do about it.
Biological parents have WAY too many rights in my opinion and there are some
cases where children should and need to find better homes. Anyway, I talked to
the student later that day and he didn't have much to say other than,
"Things are hard at my house right now."</span><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f9e49f; font-family: Papyrus;"></span><br />
<center><span style="color: #f9e49f; font-family: Papyrus;">PARENTS!!! LOVE YOUR
CHILDREN! </span></center></div>
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<span style="color: #f9e49f; font-family: Papyrus;">I work with some of the cutest,
sweetest, most difficult kids that there are. And I love each of them with my
whole heart and soul. I said to Ryan when I got home, "I just want to take
that little boy home and show him what it's like to be loved!"</span><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f9e49f; font-family: Papyrus;">In other news, too many people are
getting divorced. You always hear, "Yeah...they're getting a
divorce." As if it was just this decision they made or something. If they
were able to get along to make a decision together, they probably wouldn't be
getting a divorce. Be honest. Have integrity. Write love notes. Pray together.
Read the scriptures together. Go make out. Seriously, choose to stay together
by doing things that make you want to stay together.</span><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f9e49f; font-family: Papyrus;">If you can't tell, I'm in a very,
"Save the family - Save the world!" kind of mood.</span><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f9e49f; font-family: Papyrus;">Choose to love your family. That's
all I have to say.</span><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f9e49f; font-family: Papyrus;">Love,</span><span style="font-family: Papyrus;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f9e49f; font-family: Papyrus;">Kar</span></div>
</span></div>Karli Harveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01577399716549516965noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-844544187848336055.post-54248517479316801152011-10-19T17:32:00.000-07:002011-10-19T18:21:07.085-07:00"1, 2, 3! Eyes on me!"<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:100%;color:#ffffcc;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:100%;color:#ffffcc;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXgp0oktjPBbNMtqVALHBw0C4FKsIRovlzz6EfNwKsi6h9sfJE-Oz8aBk5BiUWsfLfcXdIVqTV62ADI_vtWu326_1A-PHWKWro8d3cd5lRkMAb4J7nbe_2LC7Pvk75LJprEam42myPMt0/s1600/Picture+4.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:100%;color:#ffffcc;"><br /></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:100%;color:#ffffcc;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>I love teaching Special Education. It is a privilege to be around the most adorable, well-behaved and loving kids all day. Now if that last description was always true, there wouldn't be 100% job placement in this field. Realistically it is a privilege to be around the loudest, most disruptive and hilarious kids all day. And I actually prefer that even more. This semester I'm finishing up my degree and am student teaching in an elementary school. Every day is filled with surprises like you wouldn't believe! Students running away, biting, screaming, potty accidents - you name it, we've got it. And I wouldn't trade these kids for the world. I cried the other day when I realized the semester is 1/2 way over already and I'll have to say goodbye! To help manage the classroom and student's behavior, I made these cute little picture schedule trackers.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:100%;color:#ffffcc;"><br /></span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXgp0oktjPBbNMtqVALHBw0C4FKsIRovlzz6EfNwKsi6h9sfJE-Oz8aBk5BiUWsfLfcXdIVqTV62ADI_vtWu326_1A-PHWKWro8d3cd5lRkMAb4J7nbe_2LC7Pvk75LJprEam42myPMt0/s320/Picture+4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5665374757557782786" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px; " /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:100%;color:#ffffcc;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>They earn a "sticker" or an "X" for each activity depending on their behavior. Each schedule is color-coded and has the student's name and picture on the front. I wish I could post <i>that</i> picture because then you could see how absolutely adorable they all are. But that's a breach in confidentiality... so just imagine a whole bunch of cute little 5, 6 and 7-year old faces on the front. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:100%;color:#ffffcc;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Now, for a story . . . On Friday I was working with a student who likes to complain and say, "This is too hard! Miss Karli this is way too hard!" Every time he'd say this, I turn away and ignore him and say, "When you're ready to work on your numbers, you can sit up and say, 'I'm ready to try my numbers now Miss Karli.' " This worked well and he got all of his work done and earned his sticker. When he was finished, I tried to have a little heart-to-heart and explain that it will <b>always</b> be hard if he complains and says it's going to be hard. While I was explaining this, he looked at me, pulling out the skin on his face and said, "Our cheeks is made of skin!" I tried to hold it together but just burst out laughing and said, "Yes, yes they are." I love my job. I wouldn't want to be doing anything different! </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:100%;color:#ffffcc;"><center>~ Karli Harvey</center></span></div><div><br /></div><div><div><div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span><div style="text-align: center; -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000ee;"><br /></span></div></div></div></div></div>Karli Harveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01577399716549516965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-844544187848336055.post-29264937985408975512011-10-18T17:36:00.002-07:002011-10-18T18:06:46.365-07:00The Toilet Paper of Love<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;">Hello blog-reading world!</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:130%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoeAdE9HfiLp9o-8H06AeiA2SNQVNR6X3szFGM0OCtZO7vzCXHpteDXkMc6iDZt0Xf8fxWSdC1jRN3QxOw_qyhvYWkZgNxmJ3GVk588o_brDf_viZcJFrD6j6yB4QwsM89H0HXPi_AGu4/s1600/FamilyPhotoOct2011.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: none; color:#ffffcc;" >Ryan and I are loving being married, as well as our always-creative Family Home Evenings. A lot of people probably are thinking, "<i>Family? </i>You are barely a family!" Contrary to popular belief, there are four of us.</span><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoeAdE9HfiLp9o-8H06AeiA2SNQVNR6X3szFGM0OCtZO7vzCXHpteDXkMc6iDZt0Xf8fxWSdC1jRN3QxOw_qyhvYWkZgNxmJ3GVk588o_brDf_viZcJFrD6j6yB4QwsM89H0HXPi_AGu4/s320/FamilyPhotoOct2011.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664996351731173058" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffffcc;">Ryan, Karli, Hissy and Sullivan (Sully). For FHE last night, I planned the activity and treats, Ryan did the song and spiritual thought. We sang "Because I Have Been Given Much" which was really moving since we really have been given SO much! I couldn't be more grateful for our little family. And then, it was time for the activity. I got the idea out of this great book:</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxtXVJfe-oTMgNmK-kb6sA8b0I3QsFs5EQM_W3RMCp3Z6DDwYysNgymr3MqWY0MUCWpWTjBKyONkbohucKz9Ci9lya3Myxt3SvwyDwGiISIc7RbQgRaD1iR7IlOPpcMgK95hTCr25XJUo/s320/100_9176.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664999307648388482" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#ffffcc;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Family Home Evening for Newlyweds by: Deborah Pace Rowley (Deseret Book).<br />Page 43: "TP Trails: Take the roll of toilet paper off of the holder in the bathroom, then sit on the floor. Start by taking the roll and beginning to unroll it. While you are unrolling, complete this statement: "I am glad to be married to you because..." You can't stop listing the reasons until the tissue is completely unrolled! The more toilet paper on the roll, the more reasons you need to come up with. When you are finished, hand the empty roll to your spouse. He/she will then roll the toilet paper back onto the roll while giving reasons why he/she is glad to be married to you. After this lesson you can put the lumpy roll back in the bathroom, and all week you will remember the things that were said." </span> </span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:130%;" ><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000ee;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_PgrufBWk9WS1UADRXFWQEFMIq850PEFvpEwNNu0GqkmJ5Zxht9obRQ50gB9tp6juLk-xSpqZtnNj4FPkutB0Ah-GBM4-MvrppvAByJi1itLeyS74PExD0hDoCHv_C2NryrG7esqIvxU/s320/ToiletPaperOfLove.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5664999006816511938" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></span></span></span><div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;">This was such a great activity! We came up with things like, "I love being married to you because you let me buy that butt ugly lamp at the DI" and "I love the way you look at me when you wake up." Needless to say, we fell more in love during this activity. I would highly recommend it for anyone, newlywed or not! </span></div></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;">'til next time, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;">Karli Harvey</span></div>Karli Harveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01577399716549516965noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-844544187848336055.post-16130954518113620332011-10-15T16:15:00.000-07:002011-10-18T18:07:25.627-07:00Welp, this is it!<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;">I figure now that we've been married about 2 and 1/2 months, I better follow the crowd and get one of these here blogs. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;">Since ya know, I have all the time in the world. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;">A little intro into Ryan and mine's day-to-day lives... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;">Right now I'm teaching Special Education at an elementary school. The students are the loves of my life and then some! They brighten my day and give me the greatest joy. I'm always learning from them and surprised by their hilarious antics! Ryan is going to school full time and is entering the Aerospace Engineering program (crazy, huh? he is fantastic at math, if anyone needs a tutor). We go to school all day and then come home to our pet snake, Hissy and our furball friend, Sullivan (Sully). He is constantly entertaining and never leaves our side! His current mission in life includes growing and climbing things. <i>Everything.</i> Oh how we love him so. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;">Ryan and I pretty much spend our time dancing to music in our livingroom, driving to the mountains for scenic hikes and </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;">doing massive amounts of homework. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:130%;color:#ffffcc;">Well, there ya go. That's us! The Harvey's. </span></div>Karli Harveyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01577399716549516965noreply@blogger.com1