It happened in October.

So after getting comfortable enough to share my weight with you all recently, I've been thinking about other personal things I can talk to you about (since you're all seriously like my best friends). If you weren't aware, October is also Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, where we remember lost little ones, little ones we never met, and the mothers and parents who had to endure the pain of these losses--physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I know that I have mentioned my miscarriage on my blog here and there. However, I've never quite gone into that story because for a long time, it was extremely difficult for me to talk about.

It happened in October, two years ago. I had just turned 23. I suspected shortly after my twenty-third birthday that I might be pregnant; I was hormonal, chubbier, and lacking a monthly visitor. I even made a joke about it to my mother who did not find it funny at all. I'd not been taking my pill because my prescription was out, and I was due for my yearly checkup. I never scheduled it, so I went more than a month with no birth control at all. Smooth move, Kate.

All the while, I never took a test. I just refused to believe that I might actually be pregnant.

We were at cheerleading practice at the high school where I taught on a Thursday afternoon. I remember wearing cute palazzo pants and a black Piko top that day. I was running practice when I was suddenly hit with excruciating cramps. I've never really had cramps with my period... If anything, I would just get a little achey in my lower back and a teensy bit moody. I've never had any of the other issues. However, this was an overtly intense pain. On a scale of 1-10, I'd put it at about an 8, and that's coming from a girl with a high pain tolerance.

I excused myself from practice, running as fast as I could to the faculty bathroom, clutching my stomach at the same time. Luckily, it was after school and most everyone was gone. I was crying by the time I reached the women's bathroom. I shut the door behind me and fell to the floor, clutching my stomach.

I remember feeling so extremely terrified; I thought something was about to burst out of me, crazy as that sounds. I laid there for a good twenty minutes as the pain came in short but excruciating jabs. I had no idea what was going on... I realize now I should have called 911 or had my husband come get me.

Finally, the pain subsided enough so that I could walk. Practice was long over and some of my girls had texted me to see if I was okay. I remember not knowing what to tell them, other than "Yes, I just got sick." I still had no idea.

The pain never returned that evening or the next day, but two days later, I suddenly began bleeding. Really bleeding. Worse than I ever have on a period. Without going into too much detail, just believe me when I say it was horrible.

I mentioned it to a fellow teacher and good friend at school, whose response was, "Do you think you could have miscarried?" Suddenly, I felt my world turning. That afternoon, I called and made an appointment with an OBGYN in Memphis a few days later.

I never took a pregnancy test, but it was confirmed at my appointment that I had indeed been pregnant. The doctor guessed that I hadn't been further than five or six weeks along and confirmed via ultrasound that there was no need for a D&C: my body had shed the baby naturally. That explained the horrific bleeding. He also explained that the cramps I'd gotten several days earlier were actually contractions.

I felt better knowing I wouldn't have to have the D&C procedure and at first I thought I was totally fine. It had never even registered with me that I was really pregnant. There was never a celebration or an Oh my gosh! moment with my husband. There was no too-soon shopping for baby clothes in excitement or picking out paint colors for the nursery.

It didn't take long for the depression to hit me, and it was a darkness and emptiness like no other.

 I was pregnant, and now I'm not. I had a baby inside me, and now it's gone.

Despite not being ready for children at all, I suddenly ached for this little one. I yearned to know him or her. I was angry at God and angry at myself. What did I do wrong? Had I done something to cause me to lose the baby? Was all of this my fault? I felt so alone and scared, and it would take months for me to realize that I should have sought help for how low I felt. I wasn't sleeping at night. I called in to work constantly because I couldn't pull myself out of bed to go.

It wasn't until Christmas break that I finally began to get myself together. I remember how glorious those two weeks were and how badly I'd needed them. Eric and I spent a lot of time in Potts Camp with my family. At some start I started praying about my experience, and I let go of the anger I felt about our lost baby. I knew God would send us a little one at the perfect time.

And He did.

In late January, I discovered I was pregnant again, and yes, we kind of did it on purpose. The doctor I saw in October instructed me to give my body a few weeks to completely heal then call him back to make an appointment to get back on a birth control method. I never made that call, silly me. Honestly, I kept meaning to, I really did! But with what I was dealing with after my miscarriage, I just couldn't do it. I didn't want to see the doctor again.

I was just under eight weeks along when we went to our first appointment with Vaught in February, and I remember spending the rest of the first trimester worrying about miscarrying again. I just knew there was absolutely no way I'd be able to handle it if it happened again. Obviously it didn't, and I led a happy, healthy pregnancy and delivered Vaught on September 25th, 2014.

I'll never forget the month of October in 2013 or the experience of my miscarriage, but I have made peace with it. I know that I am a stronger person and a better mother because of it. It's comforting to know that Vaught has an angel brother or sister in Heaven watching over him. Actually, I sometimes think he or she comes to visit him in his dreams. I know our little angel does in mine.

5 Things You're Thinking When You Watch My SnapChat Story

1. You take a lot of selfies. Yeah, I do, because selfies are fun, and if my hair/makeup/outfit's on point and I don't SnapChat it, it didn't really happen.

2. Your child is the cutest thing. Ever. Right again. He comes to life when the camera comes out. I don't put him on SnapChat very much, but when I do he's a total ham!

3. I really want to screenshot this, but I can't because she'll find out. I'm surprised at the amount of times my Snaps have been screenshot by totally random people. I can't help but wonder if they realize that I am notified when they do that. Surely...

4. I can't handle this girl in the Grove on game days. COME ONNNNNN, those Snaps are the best!

5. Just stop. Seriously. Sorry, no, because can't stop, won't stop.

5 Things I'm Thinking When I Watch Your SnapChat Story

Ahhh, SnapChat.

I had an account a couple years ago, like before it literally exploded and became more popular than Oreos dipped in peanut butter and Netflix and fringe clothing and pumpkin spice lattes. Most of you probably didn't know SnapChat's been around for a while. Anyway, I traded it in for a bigger Instagram circle and more space on my iPhone, not really seeing the point of having it. Plus I didn't really have many people to send SnapChats to. And to be honest, I found it kind of boring.

Today, I'm into SnapChat once again (because it's entertaining as hell), and people are really into it. Like, SnapChat-names-in-their-bios into it. I'm not that intense with this fun form of social media, but I'd be lying if I said I don't enjoy it… Most of the time.

Here are five things I'm thinking when I watch SnapChat stories.

1. You're, like, 17... Why are you drinking? This one is kind of my own fault; I used to teach at a high school and can now be friends with lots of the kids I taught on social media, which is fine, but I hate seeing them snapping pictures of themselves holding beer bottles and mixed drinks. I know that's a bit hypocritical, but I guess it's the mother in me.

2. I am dying to screenshot this to share (and judge) with my friends, but you'll find out. SnapChat informs you when someone screenshots your snap (more on that tomorrow). I read about a way to get around all that (I Googled it out of boredom, I didn't actually plan on doing it... okay, I did), but my new iPhone 6s does not allow for it. There goes my attempt at stalking.

3. Your story needs a limit. Ten snaps that are ten seconds long equal 100 seconds of a SnapChat story; you better be hanging out with Beyoncé or Jesus. No one should have a 100 second SnapChat story. Thankfully, you can now tap your way through those.

4. I am not watching your video. I never--literally, never--watch people's video SnapChats. The second I open a snap and see it's a video, I tap right through it, unless it is one sent directly to me and even then, it usually annoys me.

5. Just stop. Seriously. Stop.

Go ahead, add me on SnapChat and we'll watch each other's stories... Unless it's a video.

kcpace12

How do you take your coffee?

I received these products for free in exchange for my honest review. All opinions are my own. #gotitfree

I've been the worst blogger lately, and I blame it all on a lack of wifi and our laziness in investing in a new internet provider. I do have some posts lined up for this week though, so YAY for yesterday's productivity at Starbucks! 

Today, I am sharing my go-to, at-home coffee drink with you using my favorite International Delight seasonal holiday coffee creamer. I was pumped about being invited to this Bzz Campaign because I had tried one of these creamers last Christmas season and absolutely loved it! With my two coupons for free coffee creamers I opted for White Chocolate Raspberry (Eric's choice) and Peppermint Mocha (my choice). Let me just say that the Frosted Sugar Cookie creamer is delightful as well; it was the one I tried last year! 

For the perfect made-at-home peppermint mocha, I brew a pot of coffee using medium or dark roast whole beans. My mom got me a grinder from a thrift store, so I love grinding my own coffee beans!

While my coffee brews, I pour 3-4 tablespoons of International Delight's Peppermint Mocha coffee creamer into a microwaveable coffee mug. I add a splash of whole milk and microwave for 30 seconds. 

I then pour the coffee into the mug on top of the cream and milk. 

Next, I add a little whipped cream and top with a drizzle of chocolate syrup, just like they do at fancy coffee shops! Now if only I had some crushed peppermint! 

I absolutely love these seasonal flavors from International Delight and encourage my readers and followers to try one in your coffee today!

What is your go-to, at-home coffee drink? 

Which International Delight seasonal creamer is your favorite?

#BeatVandy [Game Day No. 3]

Yes, I am most definitely one of those "proud to be a Rebel all day, er'day" Ole Miss fans, but I'd be lying if I didn't include that I was pretty upset about our September 26th game against Vanderbilt. Since then, we've lost to Florida, but I'm not going there.

But wait, you don't come here to read about that. You're here for the pictures of me and my gorgeous friends. So, let's just get to the goods. 

 

My SnapChat game kills on game days.

He's the red to my blue.

kills. kcpace12

 

Again, I am playing major catch-up on the blog this week! It's been difficult not having Wifi at our house... First world problems, y'all.

In 365 days, I was my biggest and my smallest...

I meant to post this a couple weeks ago, but I'm actually glad I didn't; since I began writing it, I've had the stomach virus for a couple days, so I've lost more weight, haha! When I stepped on the scale and saw that I weighed even less after throwing up/not eating/other gross stuff for a few days, I was like Okay, NOW is the time to publish that post!

Cheating, I know. But hey, I've only gained back a pound since the bug, and it's been over a week!

Vaught turned one year old on September 25th, and we had so much fun celebrating him with family and friends. In my quiet time though, I had to reflect back on what I have been through, in mind and body, since he's been born.

In 365 days, I was the heaviest I have ever been in my entire life, weighing 264 two days before I delivered Vaught. As of this morning, I am 204. A 60 pound difference for the win.

 

 

September 2014

October 2015

I love and hate when people say YOU NEVER LOOKED LIKE YOU WEIGHED THAT MUCH!

Thanks. I know that.

I've heard it since I was a teenager. Even when being weighed and measured for cheerleading uniforms and dance costumes when I was younger, my coaches would wrap the tape measurer around me or record my weight then mutter to themselves something along the lines of, "You're bigger than you look." One year, a coach even said "Dang!" to my face.

Although I carry my weight well (obviously), I've always kind of wished it wasn't as much as it was. It's embarrassing to have a nurse at a clinic say, "What do you weigh--175, 180?" Yeah, add about thirty more, dear.

On the flip side, I don't really mind it. It means I'm strong, stronger than most girls my age, my stature, my size. I like knowing that I can run long distances and lift a lot of weight. But it's been hard overcoming being self-conscious about a number that is simply a statistic--a simple fact about my gravitational pull to the earth.

I'm not lying when I say that being a mother has completely changed my perception of my body and what it's capable of. I very definitely still have my bad days, the days where I feel like nothing works, nothing looks good, nothing fits. But those days are rare, and I pick myself up and keep going. On Sunday, I put on a pair of size 12 jeans, and they're a perfect fit; losing two sizes in the past two months is something to be proud of! I have to remember where I come from, where I've been. It's been a hard ride, and it's nowhere near over.

Thank you so much for allowing me to be completely honest. Thank you for coming here to read and support me, thanks for cheering me on. It's nice to know that I can reveal some of my innermost thoughts and struggles with friends and many perfect strangers... If only I could meet you all to thank you in person!

I'm anything but average.

According to the World Wide Web, the average size of the adult American female is 12-14. She has a waist of 34-35 inches and weighs between 140 and 150 pounds.

As far as size goes, I am officially classified as "average." However, I am anything but.

Yesterday afternoon, Vaught and I went to return two sweaters to TJ Maxx. I'd bought them a couple weeks ago and decided they weren't in my best interest (I'm a sweater hoarder for real). Obviously, I just can't go to TJ Maxx without hitting up Target too--they're right beside each other.

I was browsing the clothing section, when I happened upon a pair of jeans draped over a rack of t-shirts. No hanger or anything, it looked like someone had just decided against them and thrown them over the rack. I don't know what made me pick them up, but I did.

Size 12 skinny jeans. They were the dENiZEN brand, a sub-brand by Levi's for Target. My first thought was No way. I've only owned two pair of Levi's in my entire life and though I like the way they fit, they usually seem to run a little small. However, I was trying on two tops I'd picked up, and something convinced me to try on the jeans as well. I held them up, thinking the waist looked far too tiny to ever fit around me, but What the hell?! I'll give them a try.

They were the first thing I decided to try on in the dressing room. I stepped in one foot at a time, prepared for the shimmy dance I knew I'd probably have to do just to be able to pull them up. But they slid right up and buttoned with ease. I was in complete and utter disbelief as I turned from side to side, looking in the mirror, again saying to myself No freaking way.

And then of course I pulled out my phone and took pictures. Pics or it didn't happen, right?

 

I was thrilled, to say the least. I can vaguely remember the last time I was a size 12. I was in the eighth grade. They fit in the fall, but by the end of that final middle school year, I was filling out and had put on a little weight. By my freshman year of high school, a size 12 wouldn't have even surpassed my hips. I also find it odd that I still weigh about fifteen pounds more than I did in ninth grade; guess that's what lifting weights does for ya!

 

 

So yes, I am now average-sized, but let me assure that this girl is anything but average. I'm capable of so much more than the average woman, and I think I've proven that pretty well in the past year. In the past year, I've been the biggest I've ever been and now the smallest, and I'm talking a little more about that tomorrow :) Come back for a post with the numbers.

 



One.

This post was supposed to be published a few days after Vaught's party, but we have been without Internet service at our house for a couple weeks after switching service providers... Sorry for being a bad blogger, guys! Better late than never :)

Vaught turned one Friday, September 25th, and we had an amazing weekend of celebrations!

 

At the end of year one, Vaught weighs 25 pounds, 1 once.

He is 30 inches long.

He's gained exactly 17 pounds since the night he was born--my little Chubs is a growing boy!



Our birthday weekend started with breakfast at Cracker Barrel Friday morning.

He is slowly building his vocabulary and has recently added "no" and "go"  to the words he knows (this should be fun). One of the women who takes care of him at daycare is named Rachel, and he can say her name on command. He can crawl about as fast as I can run (only half joking here) and pulls up on everything. He enjoys pushing his walker toy around the living room, so I'm thinking he's merely a few weeks from walking.

We recently found out that he is asthmatic and will need breathing treatments from a nebulizer until further information from his doctor. He got his one year shots the Monday after his birthday and handled them like a boss. On his birthday, he got his finger pricked and didn't even whimper. Clearly, he's tough like his mom and dad!

This first year has been amazing, and we've made some sweet memories I'll cherish forever.

We had his birthday party at the Olive Branch City Park last Sunday at two; so many people came to celebrate our little guy!

 

 

 

Between my in-laws, parents, and husband, we had a full feast! Hamburgers, hotdogs, bratwursts, homemade mac-n-cheese, rotel dip, and so much more--I don't think anyone left hungry! My mom, being Bev, went around holding all the small children so other mamas could fix their plates and eat.

Vaught had mac-n-cheese and chocolate cake! He didn't eat very much cake, but I think he liked it!

My Aunt Janet made his football cake; we loved it! Perfect for our little linebacker.

He got so many gifts! I was honest with anyone who asked me what he "wanted." Every time I pick him up from daycare, he's surrounded by toys and is so happy. We don't have a ton of toys for him at our house. To be honest, he's entertained by pretty much anything, so getting lots of toys for him hasn't really crossed my mind. When people asked me about a birthday gift, I told them: toys.

His great-grandparents from Meridian got him a toy box that we set up in our living room when it arrived a few nights ago. Vaught knows exactly what it's for and knows how to pull things out... We're still working on putting everything back :)

Kenton was too cute in her pink sunglasses!

Vaught fell down and got upset; Aunt Audrana was there to make it better!

We had such a fun party, and I'm so appreciative for the help from my in-laws and parents for making it happen. Without them, there's absolutely no way this party would have happened. For next year, however, Eric has already warned me that we're keeping it low-key, or he's not attending. Well, alright then, Mr. Pace.

Vaught's "girlfriend" Darby came all the way from Saltillo to celebrate!

This huge blowup football was fun... until it went into the lake. Pictures below :)

Uncle Cliff and Aunt Jess, my fabulous hair stylist, came too!

 

I can't say enough about my best friend Jaymo. She wouldn't miss a second of Vaught's life for anything!

 

Sweet cousins, Vaught and Ava!

Vaught and cousin Cherish!

 

 

Someone kicked the football and the wind carried it into the lake.

 

Thank you to our friends and family from near and far for coming to help celebrate with Vaught. I can't explain how much your love and support mean to us. We love you all so much; we're so blessed to have people like you in our lives!

Happy Birthday, Vaught!